Saturday, 14 March 1874

[One line cancelled]
I go out with Maman and my aunt, who are paying calls; I stay in the carriage and only get out at the Filimonoffs'. I went through all the rooms and even the kitchen, then I did Mania's hair. But here we are at last on the Promenade -- I cannot live anywhere else (blue dress, good, very fresh). Near the Strait, which alas is almost no longer one, the baron on the outside -- I find no other name for that place between the trees of the Promenade and the carriage drive -- the baron, then, stands on this outside and salutes us offhandedly. Since the cold weather Auguste drives faster -- a second, but enough to see the air of triumph with which he greeted us. Ah, the baron! He rejoiced at having been able to see, if only for a minute, says Maman. What a wretch -- he dares to court her, you can imagine, she continued. It is true that the baron is very amiable. At luncheon Papa said again: To what should one attribute Woerman's paying you calls again? Ah, it is Marie Konstantinovna. And Stiopa and everyone jokes about the baron and about Lambertye. But they are mistaken; one could tease me about Boreel or the Duke of Hamilton, but here it is another thing; it is they who should be annoyed -- that is to say, it is the baron and the count whom one should... well, I understand what I mean.
I believe simply that the baron wishes to avenge himself, by being so attentive and amiable, for my contemptuous greetings. My aunt is very delighted with me, for at every moment she says: Yes, really, you! You are G.S. and still you act the proud one -- but in so kind a tone that I see she admires me. And there is nothing to admire.
Leclerc makes me laugh; he so loves eating, and during the lesson it always happens that he talks to me of some dish. This evening there will be a grand concert at the Grand Hotel by Sivari and Plante.
Maman, my aunt and I. Maman in a violet and yellow toilette; my aunt in white crepe de Chine and violet velvet; I in a blue dress and white muslin.
Allard does our hair; it is curious -- I can no longer do my own hair in the evening.
All the hair is swept up, but the coiffure is round, simple, graceful; the hair in front lightly powdered so it stays in place, and all is very well. I am very pleased with myself, and this contentment came to me during the concert. We were given a sofa right at the front, so that we found ourselves almost facing the audience. Maman was at first displeased, but my person and the good music changed her humour. The hall was full; the Duchess de Mouchy was there with the Obelisk, who is of the utmost beauty. There is nothing to criticize in her person, and with her beauty she must also be so good, so gentle, so frank, that I love her simply -- I love her. The prefecture with the troika was in the first row.
[In the margin: Troika: I mean Mmes del Borgo, d'Auzac and de Bargemsat.]
But there were not the fine equipages and the men. That bored me, but the concert in itself was so ravishing that there is nothing to say. It is a true happiness to hear music like that. Never in my life have I heard anyone play like Plante; before hearing him I did not know the piano. He makes of this banal instrument an astonishing and entirely new one. As for Sivari, he is the same as at Baden -- nothing more adorable, more original, more thrilling, more extraordinary, more fantastic and more graceful than his lullaby of the little child, by I no longer know whom.
Maman and my aunt were admiring me, and several times I caught them wanting to say something about me. And at home my aunt comes in to Maman's; I was on the bed. Yes, you, G.S., what does she think -- these unmerited admirations spoil me and give me an assured air. I make no scruple of saying I am the most charming in the world -- in jest, no doubt. But Maman is annoyed because she believes I am the most beautiful, and she does not want me to praise myself without remorse.
Poor Khalkionoff; today at five o'clock he ceased to suffer. His mother has been here for some time.
Poor Khalkionoff; he was such a good young man, so good, so upright, so modest.
Poor fellow; I hope his soul will be well in the other world. Latterly Walitsky was no longer treating him; his mother wanted Rehberg, and she behaved rather rudely towards Walitsky, and that was wrong, because Walitsky took far more care than Rehberg and did it for nothing. He had already once had an attack similar to the one [Crossed out: from which he has just] that has just sent him to the other world, and Walitsky saved him; this time nothing was done, they let him die. Who knows -- perhaps if Walitsky had been there. No. It is the will of God.

Notes

In English in the original.