Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 7 May 1876

At twenty minutes past eight we were at the station, where the Sapogenikoffs and Collignon met us.
I was somewhat drowsy, but that did not prevent me from posing a little for stout Boreel, who was leaving with his mother.
Tchernichoff and Antonoff arrived with bouquets. I walked about with Giro, while my aunt sat on a bench with poor Nina in mourning.
Must one really be obliged to part! I shall miss so much these dear creatures with whom I committed my first follies and who so often made me forget my torment — that mortal grief which gnaws at me.
— These have been my happiest days, said Giro — what do you say, Bibi?
We give each other our most roguish nicknames before parting — as if to remember the year spent together.
Louba alone wept; as for me, I did not feel the parting acutely until I saw them all in the carriage, leaning out their heads and all crying at once — farewells, regrets, memories, hopes of meeting again, promises to write.
— Each time you pass our church, Nina said to me, make the sign of the cross in memory of me — I have suffered greatly here. I bowed without saying a word.
— Give this rose to Dina, Giro cried to me when the train was already moving.
— Yes, I said, picking up the flower and passing it to Dina.
Then I went to the far end of the station and opened my white parasol so that, waved in full sunlight, it might be more visible to our dear travellers, who were waving their handkerchiefs frantically.
Then, I, my aunt, Dina, Collignon, and Walitsky went home for tea. And at eleven o'clock I went with my aunt to church — which, instead of being a place of recollection, is a place of torment for me.
— Have them drive to London House, I said to my aunt as we came out, and buy some cigarettes.
— What a bad habit smoking is! she said.
— It is not a habit, Madame — I smoke only when I... am bored. I take up Dumas and tobacco not to relieve boredom but to stupefy myself. I seek to stupefy myself. I shall not go to church again!
— And why not?
— Do you think it is pleasant to be stared at askance by all those Russians, and to be among them like mangy dogs!
My aunt fell silent, sharing my feeling, and came home as wretched as I was.
On the contrary, I shall go back to church often. God, who sees how unhappy I am there, may perhaps take into consideration this voluntary martyrdom and have pity on me.
But neither Dumas nor cigarettes are any use, and I end by falling on my knees, weeping and praying. And it seemed to me that this time my prayer was heard.
And Victor came and lavished a thousand caresses on me, as if he understood that I was sad, unhappy.
Mme de Ballote is with us; my aunt receives her alone, for Maman is in bed, and I am good for nothing. Fortuné Chocolat has just knocked at my door and announces "the gentleman with the round monocle in his eye — M. Galula." Let my aunt receive him.
Well, I have had enough of tears for now — I am going to dress and go out.
Do you know why that rose from Giro to Dina? To give to Émile. Well — I shall take on the commission.
I was pretty — which was a pity for nothing — and we had the pleasure of conversing with Antonoff, Galula, and the commander of the 3rd of the line, Authier. This old man, during our stay in Rome, made ten declarations of love to my aunt. Ah! I was forgetting the most respectable of all — M. Rimsky-Korsakov, the son of the lady of that name so well known in Parisian society — and indeed everywhere. The Viceroy of Egypt gave her magnificent diamonds and a chemise covered all over with precious stones for... the distinguished services she had rendered him.
Collignon was with us. And in the evening we spoke of Pietro, and I said that one must no longer think of it — for during my absence Torlonia, Cesaro, and Zucchini had entirely ruined him.
And at the same time I asked whether one should or should not go to Rome for the races.
My aunt laughingly calls me Madame l'Archevêque; and as Collignon expressed the wish to see Barnola's aunt dead, I expressed the wish to see Antonelli's father and brothers dead as well.
Do you know what they say of Barnola's aunt? They say she is not his aunt at all, but that Barnola is simply her tender friend — which is dreadful, for this woman has leprosy, which keeps her always veiled indoors. But Barnola gains a pension from it. Besides, this is not news to me — I have known the story for some time, and Barnola himself has all but confessed it to Collignon.
Do you know why Galula came? To be the first to congratulate me on my marriage in Rome! He spoke of it to me again at the concert, with a heap of enigmatic riddles that I did not understand.
Ah! Corpo di Bacco! I should like, once and for all, to get married — and they would have done with their suppositions.
All these people put forward what is false in order to discover what is true.
I am so unhappy in reality that I hasten to bed to fall asleep composing a charming story I began two days ago — and tonight I arrive at a very interesting part.
Pietro is in it.
I try as much as possible to remain outside my real life, which is so vile — and I drift between a novel by Dumas and my gilded dreams. If the telegram does not arrive on Tuesday, it will not arrive at all. Besides, I expect this disappointment; and for a long time now I have believed in nothing and respected nothing but God.
There is a certain despairing satisfaction in despising everyone with justification. At least one has no illusions.
If Antonelli has only been playing, if he has been deceiving me, he has dealt me a bloody insult — and here is one more name on my tablets of hatred and vengeance. If I were less stupefied I would weep with rage and shame.

Notes

Fortuné Chocolat — evidently a servant; the nickname "Chocolat" (presumably referring to his complexion) was a common sobriquet in the period. ↩
Not the composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844–1908), but a namesake in the Niçois-Parisian Russian social world. ↩
Corpo di Bacco! — Italian: "Body of Bacchus!"; a common Italian mild oath. Marie writes "Carpo" — a phonetic approximation. ↩