Saturday, 8 November 1873

We are invited to the Howards' (green dress, black hat, mackintosh, good). Already from the window I see beaming faces; I enter and Aggie kisses me a thousand times and thanks me for the little box. M. and Mme Friedlander are there -- charming old people, that is to say she, not he. I spoke English in front of everyone; I am beginning to have confidence.
The time passes in saying nonsenses; we spoke of theatres, dresses, etc., etc. But Helene and I are becoming true friends. I love that child; I would love her even more if I were prettier than she. Today, however, I look well. I tire myself too much; I do not sleep enough -- only seven and a half hours.

^[In English in the original.]
Helene tells me about Patti's triumphs in London -- her dresses, the bouquets, the jewels. And there I am, all aflame and longing to sing on the stage, like Patti.
We went to the salon and settled ourselves on the sofa -- myself, Helene, and Dina; beside me on a chair, Helene, and Aggie at my feet. Jean on another sofa opposite. That dear little Aggie overwhelms me; she kisses my hands and my knees. Helene confided to me as we were going upstairs alone that before me she had no friend, for she does not care for little girls who are, like all little girls... well.
It is the same with me. Mme Howard is also very kind; she is very fond of me, they say, and always kisses me when we meet. At a quarter past five, Paul arrives dressed to the nines.
"There is Paul come to fetch us," I say, and from that moment we begin our farewells; but the farewells last another half hour.
They love me so, these Howards. They think I am a genius and an original and witty and everything in the world. Poor little ignorant darlings!
On the way back Paul tells us he had thought to stay until the evening and says:
"I should perhaps have liked to stay more than any of you, but you said: 'Paul has come to fetch us.' I really had to leave."
Hitchcock has become quite tamed; I am rather fond of her. All the time at home we spoke of my costume. It is a new theme this year, and always amusing. Bete advises me to go as a Russian boyar's wife. M. Abrial dines with us. I said another lot of nonsenses at dinner. Dina is beginning to speak English, and next week will start English lessons. How ugly she is, poor girl!

^[In English in the original.]
I read in "Le Derby" that the Duke of Hamilton has commissioned the portrait of Barbillon.
Papa says he believes the Duke of Hamilton is not married, that engagements are nothing, and that he might change his mind. We were speaking of Gioia, and Papa says she is no doubt with the Duke of Hamilton.
But I do not doubt that in some time he will come back to her. Could an Englishwoman... no, I was about to say something stupid.
I am going to bed early -- at half past ten I shall be in my bed.