Saturday, 13 June 1874

Everyone had gone out except Paul and me. Maman had said she would go with Walitsky to hear the mass once more. I worked an hour at my piano, then thought it would be very dreary to stay at home until five o'clock. I dressed (gray dress, for it is cold) and set off with Paul to the Opera Comique, thinking to find the others there. It is practically the first time I walk; with Maman one goes so slowly.
At the entrance, I was told that Maman was there, in the stalls. I ask for a seat beside her -- none. They put us up in a box on the second tier where there were already people. I kept looking for Maman but in vain. In the interval I see her coming up; she had not been at the theater but has just arrived. There was the beginning of a storm, but the Requiem is too beautiful not to listen to.
This time I found it magnificent, without forgetting, however, that it is not perfect.
We go to the Bois; there were few. But the return was very lively. I believe the races were very fine today. One saw only men, and many, very fine ones. I saw Wittgenstein's back again -- it is funny. It is cold.
I refused to go to the theater this evening; I should be too tired tomorrow. For here I am on the eve of the Grand Prix.
Berthe has not come to see me; perhaps it is because we no longer have the Jockey Club next door. She is right, that girl, but I am worth more than she. I have ruined my complexion staying up until two, three in the morning; since our departure I have been leading this fine existence. This evening I go to bed at eleven.
We were with Maman at Alfred's, and Maman tells him the Dusautoy story. He will make me a riding habit. He is making for Princess Souvoroff, who departed yesterday at five in the morning, almost in secret; it is believed she has debts. She will no doubt pay them, but for the moment -- requiem aeternam.
He is making, then, for the princess and her daughter, men's riding costumes, like the ones Lord Falkner wore at Baden. I should like one just the same, but where and how to wear it? If I were Mme X or Z... but I am only what I am.
I saw twice the nice boy who pleases me so much, but always from behind -- it is ridiculous.
[Written across the page: This nice boy who pleases me so much is Girofla.]
I defended against Walitsky this little one -- that is, Audiffret -- and many others; then a discussion on the nobility.

Notes

Requiem aeternam: Latin, "eternal rest" -- Marie playfully applies the Requiem phrase to the departed princess.