Sunday, 12 July 1874

I dreamed that they wanted to lock me in a castle. I ran, I leapt over barriers, I went down staircases. By tricks, two women shut me in again. I reached a barrier; I bit one of the women on the calf; I could neither scream nor jump the barrier to escape. Then I called out with all my might for the master of the castle: Prince, Prince, for pity's sake, Prince, Prince! [Crossed out: I found him] The master is Blackprince. I find him lying on a bed; I implore him; he barely answers; I call again; they say he has gone. I go down to the stables; he is there and goes away; I run; he disappears; he does not even seem to hear my pleas; I run; they want to catch me; I cry out; I cannot breathe; I threaten; I want to jump and have not the strength; one of these women is about to reach me; I shudder and wake.
I breakfast at two o'clock and we go with the marquise to the rose exhibition (pink dress, Massa hat, which [Crossed out: everyone] de Tanlay, Gericke, and Koukourikan admire very much), which is in the old gambling house. In the garden, the band is playing; we find there Basilevitch, Eristoff, de Tanlay, and Gericke.
From there into the park; de Tanlay and Basilevitch lose themselves. The Pole comes to our house ten times a day. I say nothing to him but unpleasant things and show him nothing but disdain.
We wanted to dine at the Orange, where Basilevitch, her husband, de Tanlay, and the baron are dining. But the excursion train, somewhat, and the people from Liege and Verviers have overrun everything.
Today there is a night festival in the avenue and a sort of choral competition with music. We dine at the Flandre.
In the evening in the avenue, at the cafe -- Paul, and the baron, who gets up and comes with us, procures chairs for us in this enormous crowd, and stays the whole evening with us.
Basilevitch and Tanlay are three rows of chairs away.
At first we laughed. Gericke called me Douchenka and fool, and I called him imbecile, Douchenka, and you are a madman in Dutch. It seems to me now that Douchenka is my name. But soon Maman is talking with him; they speak of love, Basilevitch, etc. I was watching the orchestra and the illuminated bandstand with scrupulous attention; as for the singing, I followed the slightest notes. Dina, my worthy pupil, did likewise with exaggeration. We did not miss a word of the baron's conversation with Maman. I heard everything -- how he told her that Basilevitch let herself be kissed as much as one liked; then he begged that this not be told to anyone; that it is very easy with any woman: you press her hard, take her by the waist, kiss her, and there you are -- it is done in the blink of an eye. How he asked Maman whether she had never experienced this; how, upon a negative answer, he laughed and would not believe it from a Russian lady. How he said he would do this to Maman if she were alone (it is dreadful, but it was said so well, so nobly, that the most scrupulous could not have taken offence); that it is very easy. Then, for a moment, I wished I were Maman and alone. No -- since he does it as if swallowing a candy, which is what he himself says. How Maman told him that he was dealing with entirely different women, that neither Dina nor I had ever written, nor anything. I confirmed this, confessing that the only foolish thing I had done in my life was to have given a lock of hair to Remy. It is the first time I have said this before everyone.
Then the music interests me only by moments. Gericke says he will court Miss Row to make Basilevitch jealous, since, he says without any reason, she does not like it when he does not love her, and having another, wants him to remain hers. Then Maman says one must not play with a young girl's heart; then he says that American girls have no hearts, and that besides, a courtship does not inflame young girls so. I shall ask these young ladies, he says -- are young hearts like yours capable of catching fire for an ugly fellow like me? (I do not remember exactly, only the sense.) So we assured him that it was absolutely impossible. Then we talked of everything. I was thinking quite the contrary and was afraid this madman might become my infatuation for a while. I thought of the Duke, and he appeared to me so great and so adored that I was not embarrassed for a single moment. I thought that Gericke might become, as I said, a caprice for a month, but that not for one second, not even at this moment, would the other one change places. A railway line makes many detours, and yet on the whole it is regarded and marked as straight.
It is the same with me: the Duke is my straight line, but along the way I may well deviate, rise and fall. It was not for nothing that the remark was made about the gap between my front teeth.
At the Casino, not a soul. We send for a hired pianist and improvise dances after eleven o'clock.
There were myself, Maman, Dina, Basilevitch, de Tanlay, Gericke, Paparigolo, Van Halsen, Clark, Winslow, and Merjeewsky, Paul and Walitsky -- there we are. Besides us, there came two Spanish ladies who looked at me, and about ten Sunday people arrived in Spa -- bourgeois.
When these people began to dance, it was amusing; they reminded me of the country dances of Le Var and Conte, in Nice. De Tanlay proposed imitating them; I consented, and in an instant we were all dancing thus -- it was enough to die laughing. The good people suspected nothing.
Gericke pretends to court Dina, gazes at her, admires her foot -- which is perfectly ordinary.
Winslow dances [Crossed out: so] a great deal with me and stays near me; Clark makes fun of him.
Again at the cafe, as yesterday; de Tanlay pays. He is likeable. I pushed back my Massa hat, and look very well thus, my face picturesquely framed by that straw. I say several impertinent things to the count:
-- You know, Count, you disappear to make yourself interesting; well, instead of that, you will be forgotten altogether. De Tanlay was watching me and thinking: there are two lovers sulking. I upheld this idea. The Pole was busy annoying me about the horse I had ordered from him for tomorrow. He recited a poem, composed by himself, to Basilevitch.
But at the door, I said to him:
-- Count, every joke has an end. Listen to me seriously: I want that horse tomorrow at six o'clock.
-- Well then, seriously, the joke is over.
-- Otherwise I shall be angry, and when I am angry it is for a long time.
-- For a long time, he repeated stupidly.
During this exchange, my hand was upon his hand, which served him as a tray; I did not press it, but I withdrew my hand very gently and left.
I cannot bear to tolerate him; I nearly drive him away and am then obliged to be kind for a moment in order to be able to spurn him again.
At home, Paul reports that everyone he knows speaks to him of nothing but my figure and my feet. That Robenson said it is a sin not to show them, that I should have a hunting costume made. Ladd is in love with me, says Paul.
The little Marquis del Puente also spoke of my feet and my figure. Everyone, in short.
There is nothing surprising in this (may God forgive my pride; I think it, so I may as well write it): they are right, I have a fine figure, I have marvellous little feet, as they say.
Before writing my journal, I write this acrostic, which I shall copy here:
C -- Scoundrel and devil,
H -- Bold, amiable;
A -- Adroit, affable.
R -- Laughing at table.
L -- Light, everywhere feted,
E -- Is a spoiled child
S -- Submissive to beauty.
Maman today at dinner composed this:
Our baron is handsome,
Dangerous to hearts;
He is tender, good,
But he takes no account of women's love.