Tuesday, 14 July 1874

I have just reread my journal since Gericke's appearance. I was mistaken several times -- first in saying that Basilevitch is a virtuous woman, and then that Gericke has ideas about propriety and the convenances. That is not true, as Row says. He has ideas, but at the same time he has many others, and moreover he is a very forward young man who does not let half a chance escape -- let alone a whole one. One must be on one's guard with him.
Since morning I have been running about. Everything was [Crossed out: had been] prepared, everything thought of, except the means of transport. This morning one cannot find a horse, not a carriage. They are all in Verviers for the elections. I go with Walitsky and we find the stables and courtyards empty -- not even a donkey. One could see only children playing in the horse stalls. After each visit to a stable, my anxiety grew. I see Kirsh, call him, and he takes us to a livery stable where there might be some means of procuring a few carriages. We had been there a few minutes, making offers to the man, when I saw de Tanlay and Gericke arrive. Unity makes strength. Thus united, we managed to obtain carriages for half past three. We were to have left at twelve. Better late than never.
These two gentlemen walk with us to our house, since Basilevitch -- that little bitch -- is very near.
It is only natural that men should run after her, while my mother cannot be courted for a hundred thousand reasons. Which of these dogs would court a woman for her beautiful eyes alone? I have already expounded on this subject before Maman.
For my part, I bring two pineapples and a flower for each person, tied with a blue ribbon bearing the words engraved in gold: Spa, 1874. I had this idea last evening and had it carried out today in the space of three quarters of an hour. It was very well done. I decorated the gentlemen. Paul decorated the ladies.
The marquise, with her husband, her proteges Mme and Mlle Davignon, four servants, her crockery, the table linen, and a large part of the provisions, went at one o'clock to prepare everything. All the others meet at our house.
They begin to arrive: first Basilevitch with de Tanlay, then Gericke, then Koukourikan, then M. and Mlle Witoslowsky, then the Americans -- the two Misses Row and Mrs. Winslow and Ladd. This morning I was at the Rows'; Ida, the pretty one, had asked me to come and give her some information.
Then the departure takes place.
First carriage: Basilevitch and de Tanlay.
Second carriage: The Witoslowskys and Walitsky.
Third carriage: Myself, Dina, Gericke, [Crossed out: and Paul. Fourth carriage: Mam.:] the salad, and Paul.
Fourth carriage: Maman and Koukourikan.
Fifth carriage: The two Rows, Winslow, and Ladd.
Gericke never has a fresh shirt and cravat. It is ugly. We arrive at Barizart first; Gericke goes up at a gallop, the salad dishes in a scarf under his arm.
The marquise, dressed like a cook, the Davignons, and the marquis meet us. I understand very well that the poor marquis does not like going out with his marquise, that he finds her badly dressed; she complains that he complains about this.
Basilevitch, with her count, arrives last and will leave last, so that she arranges two tete-a-tetes for herself.
A quantity of good things had been brought, but the cloth was spread on the grass; one sat on the grass. It was too rustic, especially for the legs. I do not know how the others managed; for my part, I did nothing but overturn glasses and dishes. I preferred not to eat and hastily swallowed only two sardines, a piece of ham, a chicken wing, a peach, and a few glasses of wine. That was my entire dinner, and I had not had luncheon. Truly, a well-laid table and good chairs would be better. They will say I am not a child but an old woman; I should like to put [Crossed out: each] those who say so on the ground cross-legged for two hours with a great hunger, and every time one reaches for something one upsets it or is upset oneself.
I was not too badly off, but everyone complained of it; I do as the others do.
No doubt with a table one would be less free -- which my dear neighbour Gericke would no doubt regret, having as his other neighbour Ida Row, who fed him from her plate and made him eyes far sweeter than the cake [Crossed out: Basilevitch had brought] brought by Basilevitch. She was between de Tanlay and the marquis; then came Maman, Ladd, Winslow, myself, Gericke, Ida Row, her sister, Witoslowska, Dina, Mlle Davignon, her mother and the marquise, and one met de Tanlay again. (Koukou etc. was travelling like Paul, Walitsky, and Witoslowsky.) Dina is foolish; she believes the baron is courting her. For his benefit she has fashioned herself an Orpheus hat and walks like the Jewess being led to execution. After the meal, everyone made themselves comfortable. De Tanlay stayed near Basilevitch. [Crossed out: Maman could not] Row and I sat on a tree trunk; before the screen that Walitsky made, at our feet stretched out Gericke, Paul, and beside me came Winslow; from afar, Ladd watched -- squinting, smiling, and removing his hat each time he spoke to me.
Row's sister also sat rather poetically.
Dina made a picture under a tree; Maman struck no pose. All the others sat without poetry and faded into the background. Ida wanted to smoke; her sister forbade it. So we went into the woods, accompanied by Paul, Winslow, and Ladd. They made me sing, and were enchanted, by appearances. Suddenly, in the midst of our solitude of five, [Crossed out: arrive] Walitsky runs up and announces the arrival of Kirsh with a barrel organ and two violins. We ran like mad -- only to learn it was not true! But someone proposed going to the restaurant; there is a piano there.
So we went. The tables were put outside and we danced; Kou etc. played.
Gericke is an improper madman. While talking to me, he tapped my shoulder -- too childlike, truly! I told him as seriously as I could what needed to be said. To another I would have said something different; I would have reprimanded him gravely; I would have put him rudely in his place; I would have been very cold afterwards. But this child of nature disarms one: one wants to scold and one laughs. From the very first moment he positions himself thus.
No, he is not a man who can please me. He is amusing -- that is all. Basilevitch, to attract de Tanlay, took the baron and went with him into the garden. I took Dina and we went in the opposite direction; de Tanlay was searching.
Row joins us. It is cool; we go into the damp grass. Dina is frightened by a spider and runs; I run after her; on the steps we nearly collide with de Tanlay.
Papa Rigolo taught me the language of the fan. He dances well, but the poor fellow is too young. However, he is agreeable and comme il faut. His conversation is pure and decent.
I was sitting on a sofa behind a table. Gericke bounded toward me:
-- How stupid Paul is!
-- What?
-- Paul is stupid. He was beside Miss Row; she stretched out her hand, fanning herself; it lasted half an hour, and he did not kiss her hand. I arrived, took her hand, and kissed it -- quickly done! In one minute!
I said nothing. He is an imbecile. At half past eight the carriages arrive. We return as we came, only the baron places himself behind us. I drive; Paul is in front. We overtake the Americans' carriage; Gericke and Paul abandon us and go to them. I was displeased -- it is an impoliteness; I put the horse to a trot. At La Geronstere I stopped, not knowing which way to go. We return by the four fountains. Then these gentlemen come running. Dina asks to drive; after a hesitation I consent. I wanted to ask her to drive; she guessed me. But soon she abandons the reins to Paul, who drives with his legs hanging out of the carriage. It is dark. I could not cry out; it would be a scandal. That is to say, if another had done this... no, with another I would not say what I did. I would have held myself stiff [Crossed out: and would not put] and would not have exposed my hand.
This imbecile, the whole way, did nothing [Crossed out: but talk about] but say my figure was pretty and ask me about and talk to me of admirers, etc. I told him I was not American, and that one does not speak of such things to girls of fifteen. Then, quite naively, he continued in the same tone, saying he was speaking of the future, when I would be twenty.
The only remedy is not to remain alone.
One sees here Gericke's ideas about propriety and his lofty principles -- and my lightness and stupidity too: One learns at any age.
One also sees a great many things that can only be seen.
We arrived before everyone else and waited on the balcony. The baron came up; I was eating strawberries, and he was pestering me to feed him like Ida. Which I did not do -- I should think not, good God.
At the Casino again. I am very tired. Did not dance. Saw the young man who always looks at me, and whom I sometimes look at because he is handsome, though dark.
Toward the end of the evening he positions himself near the left column at the entrance and watches me dance.
I dance too much. Our gentlemen are numerous, and two dances with each makes a great many.
I tell Maman that I want to know who this gentleman is. When I dance, people look at my feet.
I am hungry; I ate half a chicken.
I wanted to tell Maman what Gericke did, but remembering a phrase she often repeats to me -- "Not all truth is good to tell" -- I held my tongue. It could cause too much of a scandal.
I told the story of the Pole, and Walitsky composed verses in which he describes all these gentlemen. I shall ask him for them.