Friday, 26 May 1876

I went out this morning and posted my letter — or rather my flower.
"Antonelli is nothing but a…" — I suppress the word my aunt used, for she is fond of such words. "For," she continued, "he is nothing but a child."
"Oh! That is true," said Maman; "they get everything from him. They make him fast for three days, give him not a penny, and dictate the law to him."
Well! There is something to make me furious — without meaning to, I know.
Those words, perfectly true, make it abundantly clear to me that I have dirtied myself for nothing. For I have dirtied myself — without love and without advantage! It is vexing. No person in the world is more sensitive than I am. Since my face and my lips have been touched I feel soiled — as though after twenty-four hours of railway travel.
Antonelli will have the right to say that I loved him and that I was very unhappy about this broken engagement. A failed engagement always leaves a stain on a young woman. Everyone will say that we loved each other but that the young man's family would not have me — no one will say that the refusal came from me. We are neither loved enough nor great enough for that.
Besides, appearances will give the right to those who say so.
It infuriates me.
What purpose was served by telling him I loved him, by acting exactly as if it were true? Without those few words of Visconti's I should never have gone so far. Excuses!
Oh! Young girl — you are very young still!

Notes

Sensitive: Marie uses the English-influenced Gallicism sensitive (meaning impressionable, susceptible to sensation); kept as "sensitive" in English since it is her own word.
Mariage manqué: a failed or broken engagement — a serious social stigma for a young woman in 19th-century France, as it implied she had been "tried and found wanting" by a family.