Friday, 3 September 1875

It is like a thunderbolt — I blush, I rise from the drawing-room table, and I run almost to meet m...........
Oh! Do not be alarmed — to meet my aunt, who has just dispatched my letters.
For I cannot remember how long I have been talking of the Michelangelo centenary — well, the very first lines of the newspaper I picked up speak of it! I thought I had time, and I have no time at all.
I am quite overwrought — I do not know where to go, where to begin, what to do! I go to Caroline's; she is charming and understands dress like an angel. She achieves the sublime. One can be sublime in anything.
Reboux makes me my eternal hat — the large light grey felt with the faintest touch of yellow, tilted to one side, with two fine plumes; nothing suits my hair better. Caroline, seeing me seated at her house all in white with my Italian straw hat of the aforesaid shape and two white plumes, exclaimed that I looked exactly like Mlle de Montpensier — that she had seen an engraving of the Grande Mademoiselle in which she was ravishing, and that I had precisely her air.
To Ferry's, to Reboux's. I run, I laugh, I weep — all at once; I fear I shall be too late for Florence, nothing is done, nothing arranged, I am more tormented than I have ever been.
I can barely write — I am frantic, I am on edge!
We dine at the communal table next to the American consul from Nice — the dear old man has been introduced to me twice, and each time he does not remember. This evening he struck up a conversation with me without recognising me; when I told him I knew him, he remembered at once, shook both my hands, and seemed delighted. He told me his news, and I told him a piece of news — a definite one.
I fabricate a story in my particular way, with such an air of truth that I deceive myself.
I announce to him the marriage of Monsieur Emile d'Audiffret with Mademoiselle Marie Durand. I know this from a Spanish gentleman, a friend of the family; it is decided and officially announced — in two months they will be married.
The great quarrel ends in a marriage, to the satisfaction of all parties.
Take that!
Provided the old man does not forget it — in seven days he will be in Nice.
I write Maman a letter which, when read, will leave no doubt as to my intellectual faculties. I am mad — I do not deny it. Everything has been upset; all my plans are to the devil!
Ah! Great God!
I read for three quarters of an hour, and I am calmed.
Ah! If only I arrive in time.
My God, arrange all these things that drive me to distraction.

Notes

The "Grande Mademoiselle" was Anne Marie Louise d'Orléans, Duchess of Montpensier (1627–1693), cousin of Louis XIV, celebrated for her beauty and independence.