Wednesday, 11 February 1874

I am woken with the announcement of Allard. I take my cold bath and go to the drawing room, where this little man throws himself with fury into a fantastic improvisation upon the heads of Maman, Dina, and my aunt -- the latter having been, for the second time, done by one of Allard's substitutes to save time. In truth this moujik does hair very well. Simone brings the dresses, which are superb.
Allard did my hair very well; I am pleased. I put on my blue dress, which is charming -- I say this because at the performance of Hernani I wore it and Maman scolded me indirectly; I therefore thought the dress was ugly. Maman and my aunt have outfits of violet velvet and yellow ribbed silk and lace, their heads covered with artificial flowers but admirably made.
We go to the bride's house; we were to dress her, but she is ready. I give a last touch all the same; she is very pretty, the poor little thing. Mme Fedoroff, the wedding godmother, is already there; then come the groomsmen, MM. Berr, Woerman, and Bashkirtseff, then Mme Howard with Helene and Lise in white muslins.
The young ladies and the bride remain in a separate room; the rest in the drawing room. I was to attach an orange blossom to the baron; I confess I trembled a little as I slipped it into
his buttonhole -- it is the first time I have touched a man's buttonhole.
The moment arrives; the bride is blessed and everyone goes to the church. There we find a very considerable crowd. Those belonging to the wedding party are in the front row: on the right, Mmes Koulichoff, Potemkine (the wife of the bridegroom's brother), Countess Tolstoy -- on the bridegroom's side. On the left, [Crossed out: Dina, me] Maman, my aunt, Mme Howard, and we young ladies on the bride's side. Poor Dinette was very moved; I wish I could marry her off.
The baron is a miserable weakling; he could not hold the crown for five minutes, but Paul helped him continually. Berr held firm. It was a little laughable when the priest set the crown on Potemkine's head -- who was ugly -- then, as if scorning all coquetry, placed it heavily on the orange blossoms. The groomsmen hastened to support them.
The ceremony lasted quite a long time; from the church we go to the house of M. and Mme Potemkine, brother-in-law and sister-in-law of the newlyweds. Champagne is taken. After some hundred toasts, the young ladies and, this time, Mme Potemkine withdraw to the room next to the drawing room; but the groomsmen come there too and lead us to the buffet. I go with the baron, who is very gallant and who even deigned to bring me a pear and hold the plate the entire time I ate it. Near the buffet:
-- With what might I sweeten you, Mademoiselle?
-- A bunch of grapes.
-- Only that?
-- Only that; but do you not find that I am sweet enough without it?
-- You need sweetening still.
-- I am so sweet it would be too much.
He is very stupid; with this sweetening he thought he was being so witty.
Today he was amiable, as I like; it is all I ask. I wish I could describe the agitation, the commotion, the carousing, the congratulations -- above all Potemkine, who is truly charming. A good, joyful, frank, and everything-one-could-wish man. He ended up a little tipsy and kissed my hand twice, in the Russian manner. Maman was much surrounded; there were young men, or men, all Russian.
Helene was tender again today; I think I know the cause of these changes (good) -- (bad); yet I was not (bad) today. Perhaps I am mistaken.
It is about half past four; we undress the bride to put her in her travelling costume. (They go to Antibes by carriage.) In the blink of an eye she is undressed -- there were five of us doing it; I did the most work. I go with Katia (the bride), and she tells me about her dresses, and shows as much friendship as a bride can show. Her sister is not as pretty as she.
Katia, being between me and Helene, said:
-- I am madame and mademoiselle at the same time.
Helene and I had the good sense not to hear her. A wedding is amusing. One cannot believe how much I should have liked to see Dina married.
I refuse to describe all the comings and goings, all the glasses of champagne drunk, all the merry talk.
At last we escort the newlyweds to their carriage, and Potemkine the elder, already quite tipsy, in the street, admiring my hair, took it and kissed it -- out of the goodness of his large Russian heart. There were spectators near the exit, which was covered and strewn with flowers. My hair seemed rather foolish to me. We leave in our turn, but not for Antibes...
It was very amusing for me especially, who sees a wedding for the first time.
But a wedding always has something improper about it; one should not take young ladies to one, especially to hear what the priest says.
It is still a strange impression that a wedding produces.
Baron Potemkine the elder, Azarevitch, and Fedoroff handed us into the carriage. All the ladies and the young ladies came out to see the newlyweds off.
This wedding made me think of the duke. Only I cannot picture him as a bridegroom. Triple miserere! How I should like to see the Duchess of Hamilton! Is she beautiful? This question I repeat to myself from morning till night.
I am foolish to occupy myself with clouds; it is better to think of Dina! (Double miserere -- how I should like to marry her off!)
Berr is a very fine young man, but I fear he is after the second Filimonoff girl. At the end of the service the Beak came -- that amorous Beak!