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Saturday, 20 February 1875

# Samedi, 20 février 1875

I am as gloomy as the weather and have cried as much as it has rained — which is not enormously. I am going to ask Maman to arrange things, to let us live properly; I no longer have the strength to go on like this, and I come home to get ready to go out — downcast, dismal, wretched, desperate, yes desperate, for Maman can no longer find a word to say to me, no longer reassures me, but on the contrary approves of me. However paltry and vain those reassurances were, and however little weight I attached to them, they sustained me. Oh! But now I no longer believe I can ever live as I like!!!

Je suis sombre comme le temps et j'ai pleuré autant qu'il a plu, pas énormément. Je vais demander à maman de nous arranger, de vivre convenablement, je n'ai plus la force de continuer ainsi... C'est ma vie je le répète, pour la centième fois, c'est ma vie ! Chacun a une chose à laquelle il tient, par dessus tout. Eh bien, moi je tiens à cela par dessus tout, par dessus le duc de Hamilton !

It is my life — I say it again, for the hundredth time — it is my life! Everyone has one thing that matters above all else. Well, what I hold above everything, above the Duke of Hamilton himself — it is that. I do not speak of my mother, because my mother is me — no, she is God. My mother is always excepted, my mother is always beside God.

[Annotation: - C'est très joli ces sentiments mais je ne les comprends plus en 1881.]

[Annotation: — These are very pretty sentiments but I no longer understand them in 1881.]

... nous jouons aux rois. Morgan vient et assiste au jeu. Je le considère comme une misère parce qu'il est l'ami de mon frère, et aussi parce qu'il est un vaurien. Demain promet être une bonne journée, Marie viendra à douze heures et nous essayerons de faire les portraits de nos chiens.

I wanted to go to the opera for a first night — I might have seen a few faces I know — but there are no boxes left when I come to ask for one.

My dear Victor is back from the veterinarian; the wretch has made that poor dog thin and miserable. From three in the afternoon until nine in the evening the Sapogenikoffs are with us. In the evening we play the Game of Kings. Morgan comes and watches. I regard him as a nuisance because he is my brother's friend, and also because he is a scoundrel. Tomorrow promises to be a good day — Marie will come at noon and we shall try to draw portraits of our dogs.

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