Thursday, 25 December 1873

I have just come back from the English church, where I went with Dina and Hitchcock. There are not many English there -- a pity (brown dress, good). Before going I took the Galignani and found in it what is pinned here.
Newspaper clippingGalignani’s Messenger, décembre 1873 (épinglé dans le carnet)
The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton arrived in town on Saturday from Suffolk, and afterwards visited the Duchess of Hamilton (Princess Marie of Baden) at Holland House, Kensington. Prince and Princess Edward of Saxe-Weimar also called to pay a farewell visit to the Dowager Duchess of Hamilton and Princess of Monaco, previously to their departure from Holland House the same evening (Saturday) on their way to Baden-Baden, which they expected to reach on Tuesday evening.

^[In English in the original.]
I know not what disagreeable feeling I experienced reading it; only something changed in me. For a long time now I had felt nothing, but from that moment I am agitated, forced to draw deep breaths to keep from suffocating, and my heart is not as it always is -- in short, I feel it. At church I sinned, for I did not think of God without thinking of him. How strange I am! Even today it still does not seem possible to me that he is married, that there is a Duchess of Hamilton, his wife, that he loves her. I understand him only as I saw him. I should like to weep.
I have just looked at myself; I saw a wretched, discontented face.
How happy I am to be unhappy!
We go to hear the band (brown dress, not bad). No doubt there are a great many people, but it makes no difference. M. and Mme Sapristi are out walking -- very charming.
In the evening we go to the Howards’ (pink and grey dress, good, but not as I like; face good). They wanted to dance but there was no one to play, and the Barters did not come, so we did nothing but chat. Dr. Friedlander did sleight-of-hand tricks, but the children threw him into confusion: instead of applauding they explained how he did it and said they knew that one.
The lion of the evening was Tibet. He is a perfect clown; we did nothing but laugh. And the boy has wit. He performed antics and tricks, and the rest listened and watched.
My aunt comes to fetch us at ten, but we do not leave until about eleven. I laughed, but on the whole I was bored.
Maman is still ill.
How I fear their arrival. They are in London and from there will no doubt go to Nice. How dreadful! The dominant feeling in me is a sort of surprise, of astonishment, of bewilderment -- something strange; I could not account for it. I must see it to believe it.
Walking, we saw Gioia, in the same outfit as the other day at Monaco -- yellow boots. My aunt said “she wears those boots in memory of the duke,” and Maman added that she thinks Gioia loves him now -- as I now believe she loves him, that is, she says so. And my aunt: and her shoes are like Hamilton’s.
I: -- He never wore yellow ones.
-- What, never -- always.
I: -- Well, I did not see him wear any. And I often met him on foot.
I did not blush once. On another occasion too they were speaking of false titles, and my aunt said that Gioia could easily go to Russia and call herself “Duchess of Hamilton,” etc. etc. I replied coldly and calmly; Maman watched me, thinking I was going to blush. I was ashamed.
Gioia was with her son -- very beautiful, very beautiful. Only, the bad thing is that she drives about in a hired landau; it suits her so little after her own carriage, and gives her a wretched air. How much one’s situation matters! counts for a lot Everything!
My rage begins again; I am troubled once more, and (((jealous))) -- it is very stupid, but I am unhappy.

Notes

Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
In English in the original. ↩
Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩