Monday, 25 January 1875

We walk with the Sapogenikoffs, but it is windy and there is no one about — only once I see the handsome young man. The children dine with us, and in the evening we go to the opera — my aunt and I, and Olga and Marie, whose hair I have done (my hairstyle, pink dress). There is a ball at the Cercle Masséna and the theatre is empty, as was the Promenade on account of the pigeon shooting.