Saturday, 19 June 1875

Yesterday at the baths I borrowed a spyglass. With Collignon we study the white figure. Much ado about nothing. It is a door in one of the battlements of the left tower that appears white from noon until four o'clock because the sun's rays falling from the top of the tower illuminate it. That is all.
I don't think I mentioned that this evening we have dinner guests.
Audiffret, Saëtone, Galula. Galula is, they say, a Jew — he is a poor, simple young man but comme il faut and witty, even subtle.
I do my hair as only I know how to dress it. Thank heaven, my hair instead of darkening with age is growing ever more golden, and has even a slight reddish tint that makes my heart beat with joy.
I put on the white silk dress in which I look like an English fashion plate. I find myself looking well, and everything smiles upon me.
Audiffret alone is without a tailcoat. Good heavens! He is quite embarrassed about it at first.
I hold the conversation.
They admire my dress; we speak of Laferrière, and Girofla says she makes bodices in a quite particular way — one recognizes her bodices among a thousand; they have a certain je ne sais quoi which, that, which — in short, a certain je ne sais quoi that can only be expressed with a gesture of the hand; in short, je ne sais quoi. Good heavens, the young man knows his subject — Gioia dresses at Laferrière's.
At half past seven Arthur, whom I have had taken back on, comes to announce dinner.
The table is well laid with our — with my silver; I am placed in the middle (my place is marked by a gilded silver glass), with Audiffret on my right and my uncle Saëtone on my left. I describe how I shall travel to Russia. And my right-hand neighbour does nothing but ask me when I am going:
— As soon as my uncle arrives.
— What! Immediately?
— No — a week after his arrival.
— Ah well, yes, in that case it's... he says, seeming [Crossed out: calmed] reassured.
Olga makes me laugh — she eats nothing (which spoils her breath) and makes jealous faces at her brother. I should explain: Girofla is called her brother.
As for me, I have only cause for satisfaction — he was charming toward me and I toward him. I return good for good and ill for ill.
They have me play; the young man begs me so prettily that I play, and then even sing.
At the first words of Mignon, Barnola — my excellent friend Barnola — enters; everything stops, but he joins the others and I sing.
I am told: very well indeed. Barnola comes to pay me a thousand compliments, which flatters me — he knows singing and he understands.
He goes to tell Maman that I sing marvellously for someone who has never taken lessons, that it is prodigious, that he had shivers listening to me, that it seemed to him I was his own kin — that he has known me since I was a tiny child.
Saëtone, who has known me by sight for five years, seems enchanted — he is agreeable; I especially bear with him because he saw me as a small child. These people watched me grow up, and I love them for it.
Audiffret watches me the whole time, follows me with his eyes. I could feel his eyes never leaving me when I sang, and throughout the evening when I spoke to others as well. I was pretty, white-skinned and fresh. Nothing spoils this day for me — I am entirely happy.
— How many women in this world could not say as much! — as Ravel sings.
They show my photographs; Saëtone asks for one and I refuse — he wants to steal it. Audiffret begs me to leave one lying about in the drawing room. "I really must make friends with someone in the house," says the handsome man from Nice.
— Go ask my aunt for my portrait, then.
— Oh! Ho! Ho! She would send me packing, your aunt! I know it. But through Léonie, you will see — I shall get one.
We speak of it more but I do not write it down. Through Léonie he will have difficulty getting one — but I am quite indifferent. I don't believe he wants it very badly; besides, I know nothing about it.
Collignon improvises a dance. Audiffret dances with me, and when he took me by the waist and I rested lightly on his shoulder, placing my right hand in his, I felt that electric shock of which I have spoken before. He dances well. And his cheek grazes mine.
What a lucky man! Does he think so? I certainly hope so.
We play parlour games. He stays as close to me as possible — when not all the time, it is because he does not dare, and often moves away deliberately.
I should have nothing to say if he always conducted himself as he did this evening.
We were very gay and at one o'clock in the morning it felt as if it were only ten at night.
The evening ends with a waltz — myself with the man.
How foolish the world is. Appearing in one's corset is considered improper, and yet at a ball one goes far more décolleté. Touching someone's hand one time too many is forbidden [impermis, sic], and yet in dancing one embraces at pleasure.
I don't know what others do. [Crossed out: I pose.] As for myself, I dance leaning very close to my partner, without pressing against him, but close enough to graze his face — with my hair if he is tall, or with my cheek if he is like Audiffret.
I remember the evening at Ostend when I forgave the Pole and permitted him to speak to me — I touched his face with my hair several times while waltzing. With my cheek I would not. Ugh! The vile man.
Marie is Saëtone's partner this evening — because I do not want him. Nevertheless I was flirtatious with both him and Galula, with Galula more, and each time I raised my eyes to him I felt other eyes following mine.
I was being coquettish! And who was it who answered the priest when he asked:
— Are you a coquette?
— What is it, Father — coquetry?
Girofla talked more this evening and jumped about less.
We played the little-papers game and laughed like madmen.
A simple evening, innocent and gay. The time will come — Deo juvante — when I shall give others.
I want to go to Russia. My Genius (good heavens — I have a Genius like Socrates) urges me thither, and my Fate awaits me there.
When I say that I shall spend the winter in Florence, Audiffret says he will go there too — that it is a beautiful country.
And since I began speaking of Russia he wants to go and see the fair at Nizhny Novgorod.
I take nothing literally — but I smile.
I go to bed at two o'clock (I wrote this Sunday morning), still feeling the touch of Audiffret's cheek on my right cheek. My right side is much more — how shall I say? — than my left side. It is my right foot and my right hand that Gericke kissed, and it is my right hand that Audiffret pressed so hard.

Notes

In English in the original.
Mignon — the famous opera by Ambroise Thomas (1866), based on Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. Marie often sang from this opera.
"Deo juvante" — Latin: "with God's help."
Socrates spoke of his daimonion — a divine inner voice or guiding spirit. Marie humorously claims the same.