Thursday, 16 July 1874

Maman, Dina, and Walitsky go off to Liege.
Mme Basilevitch takes me with her; there is a children's ball.
She scolded Gericke too harshly, or rather I believe this boy is jealous and in love with the beautiful bearded one. The fact is that since yesterday he has been melancholy, looks unhappy, distracted, and today he sulks at Basilevitch and goes off with Paul. De Tanlay is with us. Basilevitch too affects melancholy, says she is in a bad mood, that she is bored. Tanlay takes a basket and we go, I driving beside the diva, Tanlay behind and Koukourikan in front. We leave cards at the Vivianis', de Tanlay carried the husband's cards... and at Gambart's. We make the round of the fountains; the Greek is indecisive, Madame puts on nervous and bored airs, de Tanlay stares fixedly and says nothing. How much in love he is! I try to speak with him to make the others talk; the Greek made a declaration to Madame, but seeing that Tanlay would be happier in silence I leave him be;
We spoke of Berthe and... and the Hamiltons. "The Duke of Hamilton, Berthe's great friend," he was saying. I blushed, but I had my back to him.
I learned from him that Carlo served in the Prussian army during the war. "The fat duke is a good fellow, but the other is a Prussian!" said Tanlay. Everyone calls him a good fellow. I did not fail to say that he is ugly and frightful.
We alight from the carriage at La Geronstere; each is silent. Madame languishes, Tanlay suffers, the Greek is indecisive, I observe.
I go to see if our family has returned; then I dine with Basilevitch at the Hotel des Etrangers, in a private room. The food is good. M. Basilevitch is a good-natured man, has wit, but he looks like a Menelaus. Madame plays the coquette with him, makes eyes at him: Jean, my dear Jean, you are the best of all my admirers, and repeated a hundred times that she is in a bad mood. De Tanlay's conversation is charming; when he speaks, one feels drawn to him. He seems so good that I believe him bad.
He is to inherit, he says, one of the finest chateaux in France. He is full of feeling and kindness; one might think one sees a hero of a novel. [Crossed out: After dinner]
[Written across: I cannot help laughing when I read these four or five lines.]
I forget to say that yesterday I made a bet with Gericke, or rather I wanted to prove to him that the Robenson woman has a false foot -- that is to say, double heels, etc. -- and I wrote last night to Ferry to send me a pair of identical boots. I will not have anyone with a prettier foot than mine; above all I will not hear it said.
After dinner we go to the concert, M. and Mme Basilevitch arm in arm, de Tanlay talks with me. After parading before everyone past the chairs, we go into the avenue; the conversation becomes general. De Tanlay tells of how he went to war, then expresses elevated ideas on religion -- good ideas, true ideas. It is a pleasure to hear such ideas, I say; I meant everything I said, which does not often happen. I am captivated by his conversation; si bon seems to me to express in Russian what I mean so well. Here is an excellent man. I do not admire his face, but he speaks so well, he seems so good, he has such high and such fine ideas about everything. As he said at table, I am sure he would be an excellent husband. So loving, so tender -- in a word, he is so thoroughly excellent that he cannot be genuine, and to my shame, I believe him a hypocrite.
Maman finds us still sitting under the trees. We go to the Casino. Basilevitch arranges herself a tete-a-tete before going. Is it possible that de Tanlay loves her? If he is as good as he seems, he cannot love that woman, and yet he never stops looking at her; sometimes while looking at her he is petrified, and hears and understands nothing. [Crossed out: but] He is the husband's friend, is often with him. He seems to adore her, this woman.
It is a pity.
The poor baron is sad; I tell him so. He answered with a foolish thing: Give me your hand to kiss and I shall be happy. That proves he is unhappy. He then says his character is melancholy, that he is very unhappy, that he forces himself to gaiety, etc. Is it she who makes him so? Can one love like that? He is jealous, [Crossed out: he is un-] the poor man; I pity him. I ask myself why anyone loves this woman -- it is certainly not for her beauty! She looks like anyone [Crossed out: who loo-] reflected in a dog's eyes or in a spoon, so that the nose protrudes. Moreover she is bearded like the Boutowsky woman, paints her face, destroys the hair, which gives her a detestable skin on the chin. Badly shaped -- her bosom is -- I shall say a dirty thing, it is Princess Galitzine's expression -- her bosom (I am ashamed) is like an empty purse with nothing but a ten-sou coin at the end. She has no hair. It is true that she is elegant, and dressed, she is very well.
Her greatest charm is that she is a femme du monde who conducts herself like a femme du demi-monde. There you have it.
We were introduced to Baron Farger, secretary of the Belgian embassy in Vienna.
We go for ices after the evening.
I sang at home; a crowd gathered, they applauded. I am furious. Walitsky said impertinent things to these impertinent people.