Saturday, 12 February 1876

At quarter to twelve we have an audience with the Pope. On the Via Condotti, Domenica notices she has forgotten her rosaries, and we turn back to fetch them. But by the time we reach the Apollo it is far worse! — we discover that the audience letter has been forgotten too; we send Fortuné in a cab, and continue on our way. It goes without saying that they will not let us in, and we see His Holiness pass by through a glass door. Truly, he is a venerable old man; he inspires respect and moves one by his gentle majesty. I attribute this entirely to a long habit of being looked upon as a god.
I have a headache; the sun is bright as at Nice, but I let everyone go and stay behind alone.
Baron Visconti comes to inform us that tomorrow at half past nine he will introduce us at Monsieur Leghait's, secretary to the Belgian embassy. As the ambassador does not keep an open house, it is the secretary who receives. There is to be a grand musical evening.
How I wish I could find a reason not to go. It always seems to me that people will point us out. And then the Russian ambassador's reception was so cold — hardly a good recommendation. Here is what will happen. We will go, I shall be noticed, a little knot of us, and they will say at once: those are the Bashkirtseffs with that dreadful lawsuit, etc. etc., and then they will try to rid themselves of the Bashkirtseffs. I would decidedly rather go nowhere at all.
Of course it will be most amusing to go — I have never been out in society; all of this is new to me.
No Sorokas this evening, and I write two letters to Audiffret:
— When will you come and fetch your soul?
Do you not know that the pure and pious Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff has sent, already twice, the cantor of the Russian church to make us very advantageous offers, on condition that we consent to surrender your soul, which she intends to present to the Etruscan Museum of Constantinople.
Make haste, you creature!
The Sparrow Brothers of Cimiez.
And then this one:
Dear nephew!
Having learned of your present difficulties, I come to offer you a position in my shop. You will be in your natural element, among your own kind, and you will lack for nothing — neither good advice nor the various attentions you stand so much in need of.
Your affectionate uncle, Audiffret.
This time he will really fume.
I ask my aunt to work into her conversation with Galula, very deftly and lightly, a few words about the anonymous letters I have been receiving in Rome from Nice this past week.
She will only mention it when Galula asks after me — then she will say she has received a letter from me in which, etc. etc.

Notes

Sorokas: Marie's nickname for street admirers, from the Russian soroka (magpie).
Les frères moineaux: "The Sparrow Brothers" — Marie's pun on moines (monks) and moineaux (sparrows), her invented name for the monastery at Cimiez.