Thursday, 12 February 1874

An adorable day -- no sign of that star which gives light and life. I go to the Promenade with Dina (brown dress, good). The two little ones are on horseback, and the princess, Mme Galve, Mme Labanoff, Zveguinzoff, several men including the baron, on the Promenade on foot. What a fine entourage! How happy they are; how I envy them; how I should like to live as I wish! It drives me to despair, and I go to Bussi's to look at diamond parures. For two days I have wanted a diamond parure -- something pretty. I must always have something to occupy me, must always desire something. If it is not a saddle, it is a hat; if it is not a parure, it is a dress; and when I have all that, I invent something newer still. I am going to the masked ball on Shrove Tuesday! Now that will be grand! Maman has promised. We shall go in a box; I wish it were already Tuesday! I count the hours.
It is a pleasure entirely new to me! For the first time in my life I shall see a masked ball. We go in the greatest secrecy. No one in the house will know except those who go, and they will be, I think: Maman, my aunt, Dina, and I. I shall wear a domino, a veil of black lace, a mask...
What happiness!
It is cold today. By dint of saying foolish things and thinking them, I blush -- for whom? For Lambertye! And today, near the public garden, I was on foot with Hitchcock; it seemed to me that Lambertye was coming and I nearly blushed, my breath failed me, and I became breathless. It is really not to be borne, and I am a fool without equal!
Also the fault is a little -- a great deal -- this gentleman's, who [Crossed out: me] stares enough to unsettle one braver than I. After all, it was not he. If I could avenge myself for his stares! Oh! My God, permit me to avenge myself! An innocent revenge that would do no harm, but that would be a revenge!
Now this man troubles me, makes me blush, and why, I ask you?! Why am I exposed to his impudent stares!
If at least I knew the cause! But no, whatever the cause, it is the utmost impudence; it is to count me as nothing, to have no respect, no consideration for my family and for me! And all this because we live like wretches! Oh my God, deliver us from all these troubles,
rescue us from this position! Have pity on me! If anyone knew how humiliated I feel at every moment, everywhere, always.
[Written across: I complain of our life then, and yet it was brilliant in comparison with the one at present.]
And this man too -- he sees well enough the role we play even in Nice, and does not seek to be introduced (besides, by whom??!) as one might suppose from his manners; but he contents himself with looking when the object presents itself, with looking and launching an impudent, impolite, coarse smile!
I detest everyone; I detest the Beak! Because no one dares stare at the Beak like that, because the Beak has a fine position, because people seek out the Beak, because the Beak is proud and has the right to be proud! Whereas I -- oh, misery of miseries! If I lived like others I would not even notice the coarseness of this count; but in the position I am in, everything seems an insult, everything seems mockery! I feel it cannot be otherwise, and I consume myself in useless, powerless rage. I should have liked to have the baron, Lewin, Lambertye, the Beak, and all those people beaten before me. I should like to have them beaten and to see them weep.
There are moments when I envy, I detest, and I rage!
[In the margin: (It is not for these sentiments that I shall deserve a change.)]