Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Friday, 26 December 1873

To begin with, I skip my Latin lesson, since on opening my eyes I found it was ten o'clock; then I had no luncheon at all. It did not enrage me, but I felt tired as on the first day of a journey. We go -- Maman, my aunt, Dina and I -- to the post office to post letters, then to Monier's to order dresses for my aunt and Dina for the grand musical soiree at Mme Howard's next Saturday. It is Dina's first outing, but wretchedly -- for we live wretchedly; on every side unpleasantness. Still that Seraphine, who never comes and will not know us, although diadia comes every day and is very amiable -- all this is known; and those scoundrels the Tutcheffs, as soon as they talk all the gossip in Nice, on account of which I am martyred.
Uncle Sacha has sent the depositions of the witnesses of the opposing party; it breaks one's heart to read them -- there are so many lies, and what lies! Lies and dreadful slanders! I did not want to hear it all; lies drive me beside myself; I cannot bear them! Oh! My God, help us! Let us triumph and live peacefully, honorably! One cannot dream of living as I would wish when one has so many enemies to confound.
The Duchess de Mouchy had an exceedingly grand reception today, and there were two policemen at the door. How I envy her! -- the fortunate woman, how I envy her!

^[In English in the original.]
A passage in the Iliad struck me: when Menelaus brings Antilochus the news of Patroclus's death -- "At this news Antilochus, seized with horror, remains mute; his eyes fill with tears, his sonorous voice is stifled!" It is as I found myself when for the first time I read that my Patroclus is to marry. I did not know how to express it, but Homer taught me, for it is exactly what I felt.
"Out of sight, out of heart." I have not seen the dresses for two days, and I no longer desire them.
I ordered from the London House two portions of I know not what for dinner.
I go rarely to the Promenade.
Today there was no sun -- fresh, gray, good. But my whole outing was spent at Monier's, the telegraph, the post office and Mortier's; I ordered a hat, like my black one but brown -- the old one is too dirty. I was hungry all day; I am tired. I am rarely with Hitchcock, almost not at all, except when I go on foot or to the English lesson; she is very stupid, poor Mlle Hitchcock.
In short, what mortifications, what vexations!
Arson no longer comes, nor Mme Gaiewsky; all these pigs are quite indifferent to me, but all the same I rage! It makes me unhappy; it takes away the assurance of my bearing. I shall become timid, and by that insignificant and plain, while others, sure of their welcome, will be proud, assured, gay and will pass for witty. While I could say more and better -- but I dare not, and remain in the shadow.
Oh! Great God!
With my pride, to humble myself thus! But Thou wouldst test me, bring me low; I submit, being unable to do otherwise, to Thy will. But I hope, my God, that one day Thou wilt reward me! Yes, my God, You are good; You will give me what I implore of You!
You will forgive me, for there is much to punish in me.