Saturday, 18 July 1874

We rise late; everyone looks disconcerted. Dina returns from the Pouhon and reports that she saw Basilevitch there with Gambart, then with de Tanlay, Gericke, and the Greek coming from afar. Maman is angry on Gambart's account; I am furious on everyone's! The moment one opens one's eyes one hears such fine news! I am jealous of that woman. She monopolizes everyone; it is distressing -- so distressing that I nearly weep.
We do not go out. I have the idea of altering Maman's red dress and spend the afternoon at this occupation.
Vexed I am! And with good reason. Well indeed, it seems to me that I am neither hunchbacked nor ugly. It is true that I have no beard.
Maman complains, I complain, we complain. There is reason to, I repeat.
A little before dinner the Greek comes, wants me to sing to teach me how I should sing Si vous n'avez rien a me dire. He assures me I would sing it as well as Adelina Patti if I put more feeling and passion into it. Is he foolish? Where shall I find passion? The voice leaves nothing to be desired, he says. I ask him to play; I settle on the sofa and pose -- but so little and so naturally that it is not worth mentioning. At a quarter past seven he is to come here so we may go together to Gambart's.
He comes, but not to go to Gambart's -- he is indecisive and insists it is not fitting that he go. Then arrives the baron; he is not going either. The reason is clear to me: Basilevitch is not going. It is abominable all the same. Gericke acts foolishly. I stay on the balcony with him; he wants me to show him my foot, and as if by accident while bending down he uncovered it. I found this an extreme impropriety; but he says one must not be angry. He said nearly everything I say about him, and I repeated it to him, adding that I am of angelic goodness -- otherwise I should have been angry already. He behaves as Walitsky used to behave; today, for instance, he made me chase him round the table, and everyone laughed.
It is too much; at the first opportunity I shall address him thus:
-- Monsieur, I beg you to cease these manners with me. Every good joke has its end, and your ways displease my mother greatly.
If that does not stop him, I shall no longer speak to him.
Maman says with reason that if anyone else did a quarter of the things Gericke does, I should know how to stop him, [Crossed out: but] and that I permit this one because he pleases me.
He does not please me -- that is to say, he is better than the others, I am furious when I see him with that woman, and I tremble for myself when I see that he is handsome. We were introduced to a Comte de Jahal, who has settled in Petersburg. Dark-haired in his old age.
I rowed.
Only at eleven o'clock do they leave. When only we remain, with Body and Mme Godefroy, Body and Malezieux sing the duet: Causons de nos amours passees. We ended up all finishing in chorus. Malezieux and his wife lodge in the chateau itself.
I am ruining myself; I never go to bed before two o'clock, often at three. This must end; I am destroying myself. Starting tomorrow, I change.
We go into the ball; there is a crowd of people and gowns. Maman danced a great deal; I too danced, but not as much. I was slightly coquettish with Papa; I do not concern myself with Tanlay and Gericke -- at my age it would be a waste of effort.
Basilevitch has a great sea-green Worth gown, but she looks like a parcel in it. The Robenson woman is pretty and elegant as a bird. And so she was quite surrounded! Basilevitch found herself once more between Tanlay and Gericke. But the finest thing is that M. Basilevitch was there. Maman said that they need him.
How Tanlay must love her. The Spanish duke danced with Basilevitch; he is to marry, they say -- he is a widower with two children.
He resembles Biasini.