Wednesday, 8 July 1874

We play croquet as on Monday, only instead of Maman a cousin of the count plays -- a detestable creature, mean, overripe, and made of butter.
I became animated toward the end; I was playing very well (linen dress, white fichu, Massa hat, good) but yet another mishap prevented me from winning -- Paul killed my poor leaderless band... through my good advice we were about to win when the count missed the final shot and all was lost.
I rush to write like a madwoman; Maman tyrannizes me.
In the evening at the concert with Maman and Baron de Bauche, a gentleman who in Monte Carlo had made many advances to Maman before knowing who she was. As things stand, he is very charming and the only gentleman here.
He paid for our chairs, gave us roses, conversed -- in short, behaved like a gentleman, and not like the cads here. Basilevitch was walking with her husband.
I pretended to sulk with the Pole, but he bores me. He was pardoned toward the evening. The mother comes and sits near us, the cousin with her father, Basilevitch, the count, Paul, Walitsky, de Bauche, and we formed a pleasant circle on the promenade.
I danced this evening. I was introduced to two Americans. Row was so sweet that I kissed her on the cheek; she invited me and we danced together. What a charming child -- natural, simple, and gay. She said to me: Oh you dear little thing.
There is not a single man, and I am bored without men.
Macainne is not only blunt and dances like a bear on a rope, but is monopolized by his sisters to an impossible degree. I took his sister for his wife.
Maman is pressing me!!!
There were several pretty outfits. I should like to continue the acquaintance of these Americans; Americans are very good with young ladies. I shall tell Paul to bring them.
In the evening, going home -- myself, Maman, Dina, Walitsky, Paul, Basilevitch, the count, all together -- we meet de Neufarge, who is still the best here -- not for me, no -- and besides, he has a reputation... I vaguely suspect what sort of reputation.
He is abominable, but with all that the most presentable. Maman was pleasant to him; I am well pleased.
We remained some time in the middle of the square, then Basilevitch went in, followed by de Neufarge; but, taking advantage of the fact that we had stopped again on the steps, she came back, this time on the arm of this gentleman, to say to us in a tone that I myself sometimes adopt: "Well, what is happening?"
Maman is torturing me to make me go to sleep.
They went back and said goodnight. For three minutes I watched, watch in hand, for de Neufarge's exit from behind the corner of the square.
Macainne talked with us; we were playing dominoes. He was even tolerably courteous, this bear -- blunt, the expression is right. He is a British officer; that is why.
We admired him at dinner today.
This wretched Englishman teases me; he is cold and impassive. I have a mad idea! That he should fall in love with me, and then I shall ask him to dance the galop like Mercury in Orphee in Paris, in the reformed Orphee. I shall die laughing.
I have so many absurd things to say, so many things passing through my head that are sublimely original and grotesque. I cannot write a thing; Maman is pressing me.
I am bored.

Notes

In English in the original.
In English in the original.
In English in the original.