Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 11 July 1875

To church and to the convent as last Sunday. The sisters asked whether the calling was beginning to make itself felt.
In the afternoon I am so unwell that I have not the strength to dress.
We shut ourselves in — the three Graces — and smoke in my room. Nina came to us in her dressing gown and bare feet.
Quite pale and languid, I go to the concert with my aunt and the two girls.
There, at once, Audiffret proposes dining at the London House and going straight on to the ball from there. I could not have wished for more; I had thought of exactly that at the very moment he said it.
We dine poorly but we laugh about Saëtone and Marie. Saëtone, who for the past few days has seemed cold and has been keeping out of sight.
The Sapogenikoffs take Fiouloulou and we take Audiffret and go to this ball — the same as last Sunday but more brilliantly lit, more dressed up, and with the orchestra of the 111th line regiment.
We are introduced to a crowd of people (do mark the fine expression), Gautier, Chevalier the secretary of the prefecture, Courson de La Villeneuve and Danis, then those we already know — Godard, d'Audiffret, Galula, Saëtone, and Bihovetz. Those are our gentlemen. Gautier is the celebrated Pépino whom Olga set her sights on during her brother's absence.
I am in high spirits this evening — everyone is. Besides, I read the cards and they predicted what I am about to recount.
Well, you see before you a joyful and satisfied woman. Let us admire the goodness of God and praise His clemency!
But in truth I am not worthy.
I dance with all our rascals. A waltz with Girofla, but we dance little. He speaks to me of his dream — that dream which enchants him so, and in which I was the subject throughout. I beg him to tell it to me; he pulls faces; I forbid him to speak of it, and he says it was too agreeable for him not to go on speaking of it. In a word, monkey tricks. Again, when he takes my waist to dance — the same jolt. I have so much to say that I do not know where to begin, and the ink dries on my pen.
At last!
I go to quarrel with my uncle; Danis meets us behind the house — or rather, here is how things stand. One dances behind the house, and in front of the house there is a small garden, but the music plays behind and the illuminations are behind, so that the front is a sort of half-dark place, lit here and there by colored paper lanterns hidden in the grass.
It is there that Danis finds us; this little man jumps and dances about. I speak to them of holding a fête at the Tour. They find the idea sublime, and I undertake to speak of it to the lord of the manor, while they promise to make the arrangements.
Saëtone teases me about d'Audiffret, and with an air of mystery tells me that he no longer dares approach since — "it's.. Fla!
Fia says he no longer wishes to dance and puts on a discouraged air.
— Monsieur d'Audiffret, I say to him, taking Saëtone's arm — are you not going to invite me to dance?
— But Mademoiselle, but of course, but I should be delighted, but..., cries the embarrassed man.
— Very well, very well — the next waltz, then, and I walk away.
Then meeting him again,
— So then, Mademoiselle, he says to me, the next waltz — for I too wish to have my walk behind the house; you went with everyone, I noticed.
The waltz comes; I am a little tired, they will not leave me sitting down for a moment. He comes to find me:
— I am tired, Monsieur.
— There you have it — when I come, she tells me she is tired, Monsieur — there you have it!
We stroll during the waltz, the interval, the following polka, and on until the quadrille which I dance with Chevalier.
First where everyone is, then further off.
By half-words, by riddles, by barely perceptible pressures of the arm, by silences — the boy tells me that he loves me. He even goes so far as to wish to die:
— I could never die better than at this moment, he says, in a manner calculated to move anyone but me.
I would be moved — sed fides deficit.
He knows that I am favorably disposed toward him and means to try. But stop! I observe myself.
— It is here that Monsieur Saëtone and Monsieur Danis and I walked, I say.
— Yes, yes, with Saëtone — that I know.
— We quarreled the whole time; he said foolish things to me.
— Yes, and it annoyed you — Girofle told me as much, but I was very pleased.
— What?
— What Saëtone was saying to you.
— But what was he saying to me?
— Ah yes!
— What?
— Yes, what?
— I don't know.
— You know perfectly well.
— He was telling me, I say, a little embarrassed — he was telling me — no, I was telling him that one ought to hold a fête at the Tour, and truly, I went on bravely, it would be very lovely (then faster still) — do give a fête, a fireworks display at the Tour.
— Ah, Mademoiselle, that is just like women — at the very moment when... you turn it into a rustic ball, a fête at the Tour, at the very moment when a young man is making you a declar... [sic] Oh! what am I saying! (shaking his head) at the very moment when... in short... you turn the conversation. Ah! Mademoiselle...
— Ah! Monsieur, I say, imitating his tone, mournfully.
The whole time he says the same thing to me, and the whole time I reply that I do not understand what he means.
— You understand perfectly well.
— I assure you I do not.
— All women are the same! You simply do not wish to understand.
— I cannot.
— There you have it: I'd be willing but I can't — there you have it!
— Oh yes! All men are the same — they never explain themselves and go off rambling.
— Ah! Mademoiselle!
I laugh.
— Come, we must leave here — they are launching rockets and they will kill us, I tell him.
— What — do you truly hold to life? he says, half laughing, half serious.
— A little.
— I would like to die, he says (stopping), I shall never be as happy as I am at this moment.
— I hold to life; let us go.
Nothing serious — I am for him what he is for me. I am a little vexed. Have I the right to ask for more than I can give in return? Well! One is twenty-four and sixteen, one is attractive, one is having fun. Quid melior?
I suspect this creature of having wicked thoughts — he wants to lead me into telling him that I love him and then withdraw. But he shall not have that satisfaction. Let him see now that I understand his game and he will change his tune.
For now, I say I do not understand; then I will say I do not believe it; and finally that I understand and believe but do not wish it.
The fête at the Tour "will be whenever and however I wish." I don't believe a word of it.
He is a cunning boy, full of mischief.
How I thank God for being skeptical!
Olga and Godard run after us and all four of us sit down on the steps of the house — those steps lit by torches [Crossed out: recall ancient temples] like the tiers of a pagan temple. Godard has confided in Olga; he told her that people find him stupid. Upon my soul, it is adorable.
We dance a free quadrille, laughing and enjoying ourselves like the blessed. Olga openly teases us. And what were you doing, and where were you hiding, and so forth and so on.
My boots are full of sand; she takes them off and puts them back on in front of these two sparrows. I could not do without my two Graces. I adore them and they are indispensable to me.
On the way back from the Promenade, I dance with Chevalier. Marie is opposite.
— Well, then? she says to me as we make the ladies' chain — did he tell you he loved you?
— No, no, be quiet.
Olga from the other end:
— Well — did he tell you he loves you?
— Go away, it is not true.
Bravo, the three Graces!
Society is prospering! Three girls and nine young men. Three apiece — good gracious! How we are getting on. Audacter et amanter.
My aunt and I drive Girofla home, and on the way I speak of the fête at his place.
— But I need a reason for all this illumination and everything, for they will take me for a crackpot.
— What do you mean, a reason — the flood victims! An excellent reason.
He ponders it and perhaps he will.
But can you see it — this creature, stopping to think when I wish it! Fie! It was not like this in the good old days.
But if he does not love me, why hold the fête?
No doubt — if he does not love me. But if he does?
We shall see.
— Ah, my aunt, I say as we climb the stairs — what trouble it costs, one's feet ache, one goes to bed late!
Girofla left me saying very softly:
— You know — today, a three-hour dream.
— Very well — a four-hour dream, if you like.
The Sapogenikoffs have supper at our house and I recount, or let them guess, almost everything.
Olga begs me to be kinder to her brother, that he is so wretched when I treat him badly.
I do not treat him badly — I even allowed him to squeeze my hand while dancing and my arm while walking, with great willingness. I am even very kind. I simply cannot put my head on his shoulder. But... do you know — in secret, here, just to my journal — I was terribly tempted.
Well, and what of it? Have I not promised to tell everything?
If he loves me, it is extraordinary — for the cards predicted it, and in tasting each new fruit I wished for him to love me.
You know the saying — that when tasting a fruit for the first time in the year one must make a wish. This year I have eaten at least ten varieties of fruit and I have never once failed to wish for Girofla.