Saturday, 27 March 1875

I was quite right to say there would be a change. I have had as much fun as a king. And how little it takes to amuse me.
A carriage at our disposal, Marie, Olga, and Girofla.^["Girofla" — nickname derived from Lecocq's 1874 operetta Girofle-Girofla, also known as Terffidua (Audiffret spelled backwards).] Not because without a chaperone we would get up to any more mischief than with one, but for some reason I prefer being alone with my equals. I am the guest this time. Marie drove. An English woman with grey hair passes by:
— She is beautiful, I say.
— Yes, but badly dressed, replies Marie.
— You know, Moussinka, she continues, we must go to England to carry out a reform of dress and to make a stir through eccentricity, so as to become celebrated women.
I opened my eyes wide and hesitated in my answer — she was stealing my idea. For that we naturally need to marry English princes or dukes, Marie continued, and I, more and more astonished, listened — there was no need for me to speak, since she was saying everything I think. Then, having listened a few minutes longer, I said:
— And we must found a club for women — it is not fair that men have clubs and women do not.
— Yes, yes.
— And then, I continued, men will not be admitted. We shall wear, as all the other members, garments of white wool and gold, and a gold ring with a large pearl shall be our badge. You know, my dear, it will be we two, the founders, who give out the rings — who could forbid us, when we shall be millionaires?
— Certainly.
— But I have a thought — we need not look far. Prince Arthur of England^[Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught (1850-1942), third son of Queen Victoria, was visiting Nice.] arrived three days ago — let us marry him!
— That's it — you marry him, and you will be president of the club.
— No, you.
— No, you will do it better.
— I am not made to be a princess and a president.
— You have exactly the right manner.
— Very well.
And on this we chatter and laugh so much that it is impossible to imagine the like.
We never leave the Promenade; since the first year of Collignon, I have never spent so much time on the Promenade. We go very fast, laugh like lunatics, and improvise variations on the theme of the Club, the Prince, the dukes, and so on, without worrying about the rest of the world — except Girofla or Terffidua, as one pleases, whom we encounter at every turn and who looks at us smiling. It would be difficult not to smile — we laugh so much. Never, never have I enjoyed myself so much — or laughed so much.
At six o'clock we go to the café (Rumpelmayer) — my aunt joins us there; we sit in the gallery and a few minutes later Girofla arrives with several others. I had my back to them; it was my aunt who told me who was talking and I listened. We were far from calmed down — on the contrary, we were laughing even more and for no reason, like imbeciles.
How charming they are, I said in Russian — they wait for us to leave before going themselves. Look — there is Girofla standing at the door like a sentinel. We walk back. My aunt and Olga go in to Nina's, and Marie and I continue on foot.
Why are they following us? she asks me.
No, they are not following us.
But it is amusing when they run, is it not?
Of course it is amusing.
Only I don't think they are running.
I was saying to Marie that they are running after us and that they are all posing for our benefit. But I don't believe a tenth of it.
I don't know who was the first goose to propose making a blanket for Prince Arthur — the fact is we have agreed to make him one and to send it to him in England if he does not stay here long enough. After dinner we go to Nina's and talk of nothing but this blanket.