Friday, 23 January 1874

Only a minute remains and we run to get to our carriage. At Monaco everyone alights and one sees all these animals snatching at the carriages. The roulette tables are opened and we attend this ceremony. Almost the first person I see is Mlle Hirschler, that pretty Viennese, Sophie Warrodel's friend. I take her to lunch with Paul and me. In the dining room all these animals are eating and we could barely find a table. It is hot, as at the races (blue dress, not bad). I wanted to take Herminie Hirschler to the Shoot, but her mother would not spend twenty francs, saying it lasts too long. Pigs! So we go, the three of us: myself, Dina, and Paul. There are only a few people; I was beginning to be bored when -- [Annotation: I do not mean to say I was bored and Lambertye (his name is Edouard) was amused; as I was writing "I was beginning to be bored when" I was about to put "the Galves arrive" etc. etc. but having remembered Lambertye, who had come to pose near us, and as he had come before their arrival I wanted to put things in order and I wrote in sproposito] -- Lambertye comes to our side and passes quite near us; he stays there a long time. At half past two the Galves, Souvoroff, Centifolia, etc. etc. arrive. I am refreshed. Princess Souvoroff asked me in Russian:
-- Is this chair taken?
-- No, it is not taken, I reply. Then she told me the train was late, that she had been at church; they sang a Te Deum on the occasion of the marriage of our Grand Duchess Marie. She was sitting beside me, very close to the barrier. She called her sister, but the latter said she was afraid, that often pellets reached that far. Thereupon I said to Mme Souvoroff that it was forbidden to fire to the side, which she repeated aloud to Galve.
-- It is over now, I say to her.
-- They say there will be something more.
Her manner of speaking pleases me greatly, especially when she came to sit near the barrier and said: "I am afraid of nothing, I!" She spoke Russian the whole time; we exchanged a few more words; the consolation round was about to begin and everyone rises, walks, and talks before taking their places. I still had my steel heels, which were much looked at. Around four o'clock I go into the salons; there are so many people that I am surprised and amused. While Maman was playing at a table and I was beside her, Mme Korsikoff was playing beside me; for a long time she looked at me with such kind eyes; I then turned my head towards her and she said so sweetly, in such a kind voice: You are so pretty, so beautiful -- I was flustered and I think I said: Is it possible? I love her, because I please her and she seems kind. Prince Furstenberg stared at me a long time at the Shoot, the little rascal!
What is the matter with me, that everyone looks at me?!! We reserved the table in advance; we are six at dinner: myself, Maman, my aunt, Dina, Paul, Walitsky, and Stiopa.
Lambertye came in with two others, but he does not stay. M. Blanc is giving a dinner for all the marksmen, down below at the pigeon shoot itself. How happy they are there! Lambertye was blossoming, half-reclined on a divan in the first salon, between a pretty woman who is with the Galves (they left at four) and Princess Souvoroff. There is a blissful ugly creature.
In the evening Dina, Walitsky, and I go down to watch the fireworks and the illumination of the Shoot, with coloured lanterns and on the lawn in enormous letters: 1874 -- Sir W. Call.
I thought it could be the Duke of Hamilton... I am pleased with today as well. I shall return to Nice in three years to give this marksmen's dinner myself and preside over it. I shall show them what I am, with time. But what is terrible, distressing, and dreadful -- yes, dreadful -- is that everything is over! I cannot believe it yet. And yet it is true! Nothing more this year. Goodbye races, shoots, Monte Carlo, goodbye! How I love you, both for your own sake and for the sake of associations!
Now I must bury myself in dried leaves and sleep until my sun reappears, like the turtles.
I shall show them all, these bataclans I love, what I am. Dear bataclans, how charming you are! You are what I love best; farewell, farewell! No -- till we meet again!!!
There were a few acquaintances before the five o'clock train departed. Besides, I was a little as I like -- only a little.
Princess Souvoroff is very beautiful; last year I had not seen enough of her. Centifolia is adorable but today a little wretched.
I would so have loved to see the executioners of pigeons; we went down to the second-to-last terrace, where there was Entry to the public is forbidden.
A day, a day will come when, throughout the earth, / my name will ring out like the thunder; / the bataclans, trembling beneath my laws, / my salons shall become the ambition of kings.
But all men look at me. I love the blue dress; I have such a slender waist in it.
We return by the eight o'clock train like most. We go to the London House; I eat smoked salmon and an adorable pear, and I go home, leaving Maman, my aunt, Paul, Walitsky, and Mlle Kolokolzoff to supper.
[In the margin: Let no one mock me for calling happiness what is not. For me, now, this is happiness. I understand happiness quite differently from others. The details make the picture.]

Notes

In Italian in the original. "Inappropriately."
In English in the original.