Sunday, 28 June 1874

"The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton have arrived in England from the Orient" (Derby) -- just as if one said that M. Lefevre's filly arrived at Epsom after the Grand Prix. This fine announcement recalled me to myself, and I want to cry.
But we were not yet dressed when there was a knock at the door. -- Who is there? -- It is I; open.
-- But we are not ready.
-- It does not matter; open, I shall not look.
We opened and Mme Basilevitch entered, without ceremony, and sat on Maman's bed, Maman still lying down. Go on, go on. I shall stay with Maman while you dress.
Such manners are perfectly fine at a watering place; I am not displeased. I dressed; she left; I went down to take tea and found there this English family, the Macainnes -- the brother is the object of Mme Basilevitch's admiration. He is a tall man, but ordinary and peasant-like. I went with Paul to the Casino to play billiards; on leaving I saw Mme Basilevitch already with Maman and Dina. We walked together until the arrival of the carriage that was to take us to the Chateau d'Alsa, M. Gambart's residence. The gardens are very well arranged and beautiful, because in this climate the greenery is green, the grass silky. The house is [Crossed out: full] filled with paintings; there is nothing surprising in this, since this gentleman trades in them and apparently, as he says, profits greatly by reselling them.
At first I believed he spoke as a connoisseur and appreciator, but soon I saw that he spoke as a merchant would of his merchandise. At dinner we were served by two English women. Besides us there was a M. Body (of the district) and an Englishman whose name I forget at the moment of writing -- here it is, Wheelwright. This dinner at one o'clock was rather stupid. M. Gambart served portions so ridiculously microscopic that there was enough for half a mouthful.
Afterward I went rowing on a lake before the chateau -- three persons: Dina, Paul, and the son of M. Gambart's so-called ward, who was his mistress. I rowed with both oars and steered the boat well, earning the approbation of this Englishman Wheel, etc. A man who has not a bone unbroken from riding horses. He had been at the races at Baden but never in Baden itself. Everyone, led by Gambart, climbed the hill; I spoke English, talking with M. Wheelwright.
Then we visited the cowshed, the pigsty, the gardens; we threw the discus and played bowls. But the rain came; we settled into the gallery of the chateau, and for an entire hour I was there listening to M. Gambart's conversation -- the thunder is fifteen leagues from us, he would say, or things even more insignificant.
[In the margin: H. G. t. D. o. H]
I was bored to death.
We left at half past four; I went out again at once. Henriette (from the hotel) took me to a shop where I bought a Flemish peasant hat. It is pouring.
I dined after Gambart's dinner (yesterday Maman went alone to the ball).
Maman and company went to the Casino; I stay at home, finish my hat and the second volume of "Bragelonne."
Maman has invented a term like mine: I say "dust" and she calls all the men at Spa zhuk [bumblebee]. Walitsky, every time a man passes, begins to buzz, ending with zhuk! Often he stops a peasant woman and asks: Little bumblebee, do you not know where there is a "zhuk"?
We are dying of laughter. And this evening, while walking Maman to Mme Basilevitch's, who has a headache, a gentleman was occupying the entire sidewalk with his open umbrella.
-- "Zhuk," give us the way.
-- Ah, pardon, Madame! I laugh like a madwoman.
Written down it is stupid, but in reality we laugh without end.

Notes

In Russian.
Russian, zhuk: beetle or bug -- family code for eligible men.
In Russian.
Walitsky's question in Russian, comically addressed to local women.
In Russian, addressed to the stranger.