Monday, 24 November 1873

A Russian hippopotamus, Soukhotine, came to see us; he saw Maman yesterday at the concert and spoke to us in the carriage. A true hippopotamus -- he shouts like a beast and finally sang something Russian. I heard all this from the study.
At half past two I go to prepare myself, for I am riding. I come dressed to the salon where diadia and Soukhotine are. They show me off. But in vain I wait for the horse; I think that in telling the groom to come I say to morrow instead of to day, as often happens to me in English.

^[In English in the original.]
We go down to the garden, I in my riding habit, near the croquet lawn and the fountain. What is disagreeable about this accursed Buffa is that every swine on earth passes through the garden. Today for example some children and a nursemaid come and stand right beside us; several times Bete tells them to go away, but they seem made of stone and remain without saying a word, like mutes. Then several rash Nicois come and sit on the bench; I tell the gardener to send them away; he speaks to them, but these scoundrels do not budge. I am exasperated: to all the charms of our delightful dwelling are now added all the animals that pass by -- what am I saying -- that stay and stare at us like a spectacle. We barely had time to go inside when Walitsky arrives and we beg him to chase off these dreadful rash creatures; this time they decamp.
I resume my former shape; we go out -- my aunt, Dina, Maman, and I. It is past four. We went to diadia's for a few minutes; he is expecting his daughter, today or tomorrow. Before going home, at the London House: oranges, grapes, and a superb pear.
Today I see him as on the day of the races and the shooting. At the races with his cane. It seems to me he is looking at me -- a cigarette in his mouth, whistling and coming down the steps of the grandstand, leaning on a cane.
Truly I love him. It seems to me I could bear anything from him, and I should be happy. To tend to him, to anticipate his whims, to adore him -- that would be my life. Without appearing to, of course, for if he saw that I adore him he would be too proud and neglectful. I want him... I should like him to be at my feet and at the same time for me to be at his.