Wednesday, 11 March 1874

I am in a dreadful state, but let us begin with yesterday. Allard does my hair and I put on the white dress, which is really very pretty. We leave; there is a concert, and passing by I saw Lambertye near a carriage. There are on the Promenade several persons who ought to be there.
It is a dance matinee at the Howards'.
On entering I see almost all our acquaintances, but there are not many people; above all there is a lack of gentlemen -- there are only Tebbitts and Barters and that sort; it is not enough for a great dance matinee. There is almost no one from elegant society, only Mme d'Apletcheieff who came in with the Viennese girl, who to my great astonishment is an unmarried girl -- I took her for a widow of six years. Lewin, Woerman and Prince Tchetvertinski [Russian: 13 letters, French: 14 letters], Mme Narichkine his aunt, Nervo and a few more. All the Russians we know, and the rest English ladies and a few Englishmen.
People were rather bored; there were not enough dancers, and the poor young ladies were dying of boredom. Most of the time I stayed in the blue salon where the buffet was, and in the little green room. Woerman hardly left my side. It is a pity he is so stupid; one does not know what to talk to him about -- he understands nothing, and with that tries to be witty, and makes puns and plays on words and I do not know what else. I do not know what he wants of me; his attentions bored me, for the witch Youlia Stepanovna looked at me so intently in passing when this madman was at my side.
I was standing with Allen; he came to me, I sat down and he sat down too. Then I find myself in the other salon -- he is there too. Several times I went away and several times he found me again. He is avenging himself for my greeting of yesterday; the fact is that I barely greet him -- Dina says not at all.
This poor Mme Howard does not know how to manage her salon, nor do her children.
Helene, who is nearly seventeen, does not know at all how to conduct herself or others.
The gentlemen were not presented to the ladies, so that one walked about looking at one another and that was all. The Chevalier Hidalgo, former minister plenipotentiary, was obliged to beg (his word) Mme Apletcheieff to present him to Maman -- he who had sought nothing else, who had followed her like a shadow for two years (always his own words), and who did not wish to leave Nice without having had this honour, this happiness, etc. etc.
I thought they would present the prince to me; he was walking about and looking at me, then conferring with the baron. He is a very proper young man and of good family.
[Crossed out: The summary of this mat-]
I walked about, I sat, I danced a little, as did everyone. Conclusion: very little animation, few people; for a moment -- that is to say, at the end, when they danced the grandfather -- it seemed a little gayer, there was more spirit, but in a second I realized that no, it was as tepid as at the beginning. My dear aunt in dead-leaf brown was holding court, and with Nervo -- what a pair! -- the aunt Tutcheff.
The masters of the house are rather cold to us; I believe it is because it has been a month since we last called on them, whereas they come often to ours.
My aunt noticed this coldness and is very angry; so am I, so is everyone.
Mania was more bored than the others.
I asked Maman to [Crossed out: ask] request Mme Apletcheieff to arrange my introduction to the Viennese girl, since she is an unmarried girl. I like this young child; I told her I had known her a long time, that I had seen her at the Exhibition -- I even reminded her of her dress. One day, taking her for Mme Beketoff, I followed her for a few minutes. The first impression is good. There was not a soul who did not admire my dress.
But today! That is what is dreadful.
We were at the villa with Biasini, where I was very much bored. After dinner I came to lie down with Maman and as always we spoke of... as always. I wept and Maman too; she said I was right. That there is no longer any possible existence for us in Nice. These scenes are always difficult to describe.
Yesterday Patton said: -- Go to the ball, otherwise they will make up something more about you. Maman had the extreme folly of sending to Lewin's to ask for an invitation. Only in the evening did he reply, with a thousand regrets, that the list was closed. I am furious; Maman is very wounded. So that is what they make up! I wept. My God, what humiliations, what troubles, what tears!
My aunt, who had advised sending to Lewin's, was embarrassed, and ended by bursting out against me; Maman, very overwrought, took her side, and there it begins.
Exhausted at last and revolted, I rush to my room. It is eleven o'clock. This scene lasted from eight until eleven. I am exhausted, and besides it is impossible to describe all these miseries, and the interventions of the uncles, and the disgusting furies of Dina, and all of it!
I know that with Maman alone there would never be any trouble, because she understands me and she is not unkind. We spoke of selling 55 and going away to Naples, for in Nice there is no more salvation for us!
Give me words to express how unhappy I am!
Maman is so weak, so ill that... oh my God, preserve her!