Wednesday, 29 July 1874

For four months I have been leading an irregular life: I stay up late, I rise late, [Crossed out: and today] and I have made myself ugly, pale, and weak.
I am at fault; I ought to be severely punished. Today I felt faint several times. Despite this, I dined at the Orange. We were leaving when Jahal comes running, offers Maman his arm, and insists that we absolutely must see the conversation room. We stay for some time in this conversation room; the Greek, who had already been at our house, passed near us. An Englishwoman, the one Gericke is courting, sang rather well; she is not bad-looking. Gericke was dining at the same table with us, but far away. Beside us were Monsieur and Madame de Bauche, both very amiable and refined. Gericke hid himself.
I still feel weak and faint; in order to go to the casino I take a good quantity of gin and then two cups of tea to chase away the drowsiness that was overtaking me. In this way I was able to go out.
This evening the Spaniards, led by the Marquis del Puente, are organizing a cotillion for their circle.
I must say that since the crowds have arrived, we have been overshadowed; the Spaniards and the Americans monopolize the promenades and the young men. This evening they organize a cotillion for those they know. Paul insists on getting in; he is barely accepted, being told that he must be introduced to everyone. He refuses, I do not know why, gives up his partner, and behaves foolishly.
I am furious at not being invited -- not I myself, but these wretched us. We go all the same, around ten o'clock.
They posted on the columns that at ten o'clock there would be a soiree, private society. Despite this, many stay to watch the private society in their finery. After the cotillion there was a supper.
There was no room in front. Having spoken with Countess Guirini (who had visited us twice) and Viviani, we pass behind the columns; to the left, on the first sofa, is Gericke, who does not rise or greet us. I passed by naturally and without looking at him. I suppose the others did the same. We settle behind the piano. Jahal and the Greek, who are not part of the private society, come, and we begin a concert of the spurned. I took part and laughed inwardly.
Gericke, who is not part of the private society, stations himself opposite us, hidden behind a column and peering with one eye. He looks wretched. But I cannot guess what ails him.
I forgot to say that I went out this morning with Dina in a torrential rain, that we met the Haristoffs, etc. I was in a rubber coat and boots. I have been up since seven o'clock.
Let us return to the evening. Our conversation is wretched and suits our position; nevertheless we laugh and think we are mocking the private society that is enjoying itself. I wish there were as many young men in Nice as here. It was pleasant to see all that fine youth in full dress. The Spanish duke greets me again: why did he not greet me at the beginning? The man I could only recognize on horseback and in a carriage is, I believe, the Baron de La Rousseliere -- married.
He passed before us. But this is not the one I saw the first time; I cannot recognize him. I think, however, that it is a different man.
I am noticed by all the men here, including those of the princess (of Italy).
Somaglia always looks at me. Old rascal Bloudoff speaks very well of me to de Bauche; when I go out alone he watches me a great deal and sometimes walks behind me. Once I heard his footsteps behind me; I turned the corner to go home, and he stopped and watched me enter.
He told Viviani that he would very much like to call on Madame Bashkirtseva, but that he is too accustomed to cocottes and would not know what to do in the company of a femme comme il faut.
While I was watching the crowd, the face of Blackprince appeared to me, so beautiful and with an expression I love, that I shook my head to chase it away and made an impatient gesture to the left, opening my fan. It is strange.
We go home accompanied by the Greek. The Polish count is ill.
At home the chorus of the spurned continues; I recall our position in Nice and am grieved.
Maman sleeps with me.
The Greek told me twice, on different occasions, that he has no weakness for me. Does he think I have one for him? That would be ugly.
Having said that, he added that I am pretty and have enough to turn as many heads as I please. If only it were true. He courts no one among us, yet comes often; I rather like this arrangement.
I was about to forget to say that without ever having learned, I know all the ways of making eyes. This science came to me during these last few days; I am astonished by it.
I am happy to say that people no longer smile upon seeing me as they used to smile when I was little; now they look at me.
The young Countess d'Aquila does smile, but she does so as Maman does at Clementine Durand.

Notes

In English in the original. Marie's private code name for the Duke of Hamilton.