Wednesday, 23 June 1875

No one would ever think it was the 23rd of June in Nice. It is deliciously cool, and towards seven in the evening one felt the need of a cloth jacket. I am very cheerful because of this charming coolness.
We go for a walk, and Maman, on seeing Danis and the rest, said very aptly: “There go the handsome remnants.”
I perform a noble deed at dinner: I drink a whole bottle of Saint-Émilion. It is the first time I have drunk a bottle of wine all by myself. And so after dinner I go up to my room and undress, but, afraid of letting Maman and my aunt (who alone saw how much I drank) think foolish things, I come down again at once and spend an hour with them and the Sapogenikoffs in the dining room, listening to discussions on how servants should be treated. They reproach me for joking with Léonie. I do joke with her, but without lowering myself one inch.
Besides, I am the best-served person in the house.
I am not tipsy; I understand and hear everything, only I feel a little hazy.
The sea is rough; there was no one at the baths and I did not go down.
Léonie told me one day that she had been in service with the Audiffrets and that the old man was very kind.
— Aha! So you were his sweetheart! I said to her.
Ever since, I laugh about old Girofla having been her sweetheart, and she says so to amuse me.
Yesterday she read the cards for me. More unheard-of good fortune, and the love of a dark man who thinks of me night and day.
Fancy that. Hamilton was mentioned. I behaved well. Besides, I have no need to hide. They know he appealed to me; only they do not know how much, they do not know that he appeals to me still, that I have not forgotten him.