Thursday, 5 February 1874

I have my hair done by Allard; he gives me a very pretty arrangement -- half the hair swept up as I like, and the other half hanging. Dina, done in the same style, made a great impression with her magnificent hair.
Simone made her a dress after Worth, and really very well. It is the Nagornoff concert this evening (grey and pink dress, not bad; face good). We have our places in the second row. Nearly all the Russians are there -- half of the proceeds for the benefit of Samartseff. I was at ease, for almost the whole room was known to me. I went to speak to all these people. Helene is wretchedly dressed and almost ugly -- she has no eyebrows. Madame, Mlle Filimonoff, M. Potemkine, M. and Mme Warrodel, Mme Antonsky, M. Barnola. Prince Gagarin, Count Markoff, and M. Zibine are the stewards of the concert. Everyone was very kind to me.
Before us sit Princess Labanoff and the Beak, with the baron and another. To my great astonishment I see that the Beak does not stretch from one ear to the other but on the contrary is so small, so small one can scarcely see it (this afternoon I saw Gioia on horseback with Baron Cartier -- she is ridiculous). The baron [In the margin: I call Woerman baron mockingly] turns and speaks to Maman, then to me; he even bored me with his talk. At the entrance I took a little bouquet of violets and placed it in the centre of my bodice; the baron (Woerman) tells me the violets are very beautiful, then that I must put them to one side.
-- For a child, anything goes, said Maman.
-- It is quite indifferent to me.
-- No, Mademoiselle, you must put them to one side.
So I put them to the side. That animal was looking at my neck, and
I believe I ought to be offended, for it was out of vanity that he looked.
-- I believe, Mademoiselle, that you no longer wish to know me; I bowed to you several times and you pretended not to see me.
-- Not at all, Monsieur, but once you did not bow to me, and another time I did not wish to greet you first.
-- Four times! Once at the quai Saint-Jean-Baptiste! Another time at the Promenade, a third on the avenue, etc.
-- Only once, and the other times it was unintentional.
I do not remember exactly how I put it; I only know I spoke well, and Maman was pleased.
It seems to me that the Beak (if it is not her mouth, it is her nose that is a true Beak) is mocking me. My aunt says he admires me. I believe rather what I see. The baron kept speaking to me to show off before the Beak. But how I detest that Beak, because it seems to me she mocks me. How I should like to ruin her with confetti at Carnival!
I did something foolish. I gave the bouquet myself to Mme Silwanoff. I shall be torn to pieces by Mme Skariatine, who looked at me with terrible eyes! Her daughter is an ugly little grimace-maker.
In the second row behind us were Princess Souvoroff, Mlle de Galve, and the lady who has a companion. The little Galve is in blue as always and adorable as always.
Mme Souvoroff must be stupid.
I believe I was ridiculous in giving the bouquet; they assure me I was not, but I am sure I was. Well, let us try to forget it.
The concert is charming; Mme Connau sings delightfully, but the Russian woman is done for. Nagornoff plays admirably, and I love the violin very much.
There is very fine society. And we have many acquaintances -- that is the main thing; men, too.
I am very glad I went.
I think one day I shall go mad, for I seem so ridiculous to myself, and it seems to me that people mock me -- it is a dreadful feeling! I wish I could rid myself of it.
The departure was very gay, and I leave satisfied. My dress and the bouquet poisoned my evening.
I shall forget.