Monday, 2 August 1875

I wake at seven o'clock.
At ten o'clock we go out. I have grown sluggish from the provinces — it will take me two days to recover. At least my dress is good, since it is from Paris.
What torture for me! Machenka adores wandering the streets and admiring the shop-window displays, rushing into every boutique. I detest all that, and to think I am obliged to escort her everywhere. I go to Reboux, to Ferry, to Jouvin, to Laferrière. But thrice alas! Caroline is not there — she will be absent a fortnight! A girl is replacing her; I hope she will serve me well.
I go to Klein's. I come home and write my aunt a desperate letter demanding money, money, money!
Ah! I forgot — at Ferry's I saw Berthe, who is elegant and pretty. She has an angelic complexion. We speak a few minutes and she promises to write to me; I promise to visit her when I pass back through Paris in six weeks.
I am tired.
We go to the Bois. I had been in grey; to go to the Bois I change into white. There is quite a crowd.
Ah! My God, how comfortable one feels in Paris, how elegant! The sheer effect of seeing so many graceful and beautiful things makes one better oneself.
After Nice it seems to me I am in heaven. And indeed Paris is Paradise. London is immense, but Paris is more beautiful. I am transported!
And my inner drive begins to gnaw at me. Here is society — here is where one must be. I can scarcely breathe. On the second circuit of carriages I recover myself and look at the people with a benevolent condescension. That is the way to hold oneself well. I was noticed — not greatly, I confess. Wait and see.
Let those who have ears listen, let those who have eyes look.
Tomorrow I shall be far better. I did not see a single man on whom the eye could rest. Cads! I recognize a crowd of people. Saint-Clair, from Nice, and Lambertye — Fedus! We look at each other and I burst out laughing. Apart from him, a quantity of others.
And at last — Audiffret. I am delighted to see him so elegant and so well mounted. Fine horse, fine carriage, well dressed and handsome himself. We pass quickly, [Crossed out: he re—], we turn back and greet one another. I blushed slightly, but not so as to be noticed. Smirnoff and Stiopa, sitting opposite me, say he turned to look a long while. We pass each other several times and he bows each time, and his pleasant smile pleases me.
He had stepped down from his carriage and was strolling on foot among the gilded youth — what pleases me infinitely is to see him well surrounded, well mounted.
I smiled to myself to see us both transported from filthy Nice into my beautiful Paris, but far from losing by the change, we gain.
I am displeased — I would have wished him to draw up to the carriage. It is either very good or very bad. Very bad if it is indifference; very good if the contrary. I think the latter, for if there were nothing he would simply have turned his carriage as anyone does when meeting an acquaintance in another city — as de Tanlay did, as several others did.
I dine, debating with Smirnoff on the different forms of political government. The contrasts of ideas within me are so violent that it is frightening. Besides, I never speak except in jest. It is the most convenient way.
After a day of shops, dressmakers and milliners, of frivolous promenading and coquetries, I put on my dressing gown and read my good friend Plutarch.
Do you know what has been amusing me these last few days? Looking everyone in the eyes. In Nice I took pleasure these last days in seeing how many people watched me. I feel like talking to everyone I see. It seems to me I am a queen and all must greet me. I love to look men in the face but with such a haughty and all-powerful air that whether they will or no, they take notice of this creature who seems to be everything. I do not know why I am expecting Audiffret this evening. Yes I do — I know why: it is because I desire it.

Notes

In English in the original.