Sunday, 27 June 1875

I get up at eight — early for a Sunday — and immediately sit down to write that I should like to go for a walk in the garden, but that it is hot and that it bores me.
I am reading my journal, book 15. But it is to the first that I keep returning; it always seems new to me, I never feel I have read it enough. But it is so badly scrawled that one can hardly make it out. I am going to make a fair copy of it. I shall never have said enough about the time when I used to see him, and every time I move on to another book I feel I have not read the first one properly.
written across the page
It is the Duke I am speaking of; one would think it was le Surprenant.
Mmes Sapogenikoff, de Mouzay, Bashkirtseff and Romanoff go off to Monte Carlo, and we, their daughters, go to the concert.
De Daillens acts as young as we are, and we laugh as we did before Girofla had been introduced. Fiouloulou and Enoteas come and join us. I give the first a sou to make him say his name in that way he has, and he goes and fastens the sou to his watch chain. Without meaning to, I have done something very useful: Audiffret will see that I do not single him out. Besides, I did not give it to him; he asked for it. He is a mischievous, crafty man, and one must be on one’s guard with him.
We come home, and after dinner we draw up the following letter:
Sir, Kindly insert in your advertisements next Thursday the following notice: Wanted: attractive young men, well-bred, in Nice. I count on your punctuality, Sir, for this notice brooks no delay.
I have the honour to salute you, Sir. A lady of Nice.
Envelope: To the Editor-in-Chief of the Figaro, 26 rue Drouot, Paris
That will raise a laugh. But I should not be sorry if the attractive, well-bred young men were to take it seriously. By Jove, I should very much like them to take it seriously.
I dreamt that Fiouloulou, that unworthy notary’s clerk, was making me a declaration of love. It is horrible.

Notes

In French in the original: comme il faut. ↩