Wednesday, 30 August 1876 (16 August)

Yesterday at eleven o’clock I received a large basket of pears. I thought it was from Miloradovitch. But no, it was only my uncle, who, having heard me speak of this fruit yesterday morning, sent a man to Poltava to get me some.
Eh? It seems someone needs to coax me round.
How corrupt I am! Everywhere I see calculation. It is dirty but useful. Alas!
While the young men were chasing the governess, throwing fireworks at her legs, the Princess, Alexandre, Kapitan and I talked about the Pope and Rome.
I pretended to be worried, saying that the Cardinal had died.
I dreamed that Pierre Antonelli was dead. I went up to his coffin and put round his neck a topaz rosary with a gold cross. No sooner had I done so than I noticed that the dead man was not Pietro.
“Who is it, then, good Lord?” I asked.
“It is an opera tenor,” I was told.
Death in a dream means marriage, I believe. You can guess my irritation, and with me irritation shows itself in complete immobility and silence, but woe to anyone who teases me, or merely makes me talk.
We talked about the morals of Poltava. Depravity is much cultivated there, and people speak of having met Mme Miloradovitch in the street at night, in her dressing gown, with Yonina, as a fairly ordinary thing. The young ladies there behave a little better than the women of easy virtue, and this little better is owed only to the fear of an outright scandal, for they make their arrangements for after marriage. It is, as you see, very well calculated. But when the subject of kisses came up, I too joined in the conversation, though I began pacing the room.
A young man was in love with a girl who loved him, and after some time he married another, and when he was asked the reason for this change, he answered:
“She kissed me; so she has kissed others too, or she will.”
“That is right,” said Alexandre, “and all men reason like that.”
Reasoning unjust in the highest degree, but it is why I am in my room, undressed and wild with shame and vexation.
“What is easily given is easily abandoned; witness Marie Zankowsky. They court her for a month or more and then they run off,” Alexandre said again.
It seemed to me they were talking for my benefit. So that is the cause of... But am I really as easy as all that?...
Oh! I do not know! But in heaven’s name give me some way to erase... to forget, to set right!
I can imagine what was said of us in Rome! The masked balls, and then that Antonelli; he has only to boast and laugh at me! Well, I shall go to Rome, with my father, I shall go to Rome and... and I do not know. O my God, have I committed a real crime, that You torment me so!
You do well, Lord, and my conscience, by not leaving me a moment’s respite, will cure me...
What neither upbringing, nor books, nor advice could have taught me, experience has taught me.
I thank God for it, and I advise young ladies to be a little more roguish at the bottom of their souls, and to take good care not to feel anything whatsoever. First they are compromised, and then they are made ridiculous.
The finer the feeling, the easier it is to ridicule, and the greater it is, the funnier. And there is nothing in the world more ridiculous and more degrading than love held up to ridicule.
An enchanted drive! The Prince’s troika, despite the weight of Alexandre and of Kapitan lying at my feet, flew like lightning. Michel was driving.
I adore going fast; the three horses broke into a gallop, and for a few minutes I could not breathe for joy and excitement.
Then croquet kept us until dinner, at about which time Miloradovitch arrived.
I was already looking for a “story” when the Princess happened to mention the Roslovleff young ladies.
“They are very nice, but unhappy,” said Gritz.
“And why?”
“Why, they do nothing but travel in search of husbands and never find any.”
Already people were beginning to exchange smiling glances.
“What do you mean, in search of husbands, and how can one tell?” asked the Princess.
“Well... they try to catch one; for instance, they tried to catch me.”
At this everyone burst out laughing, and I exchanged a meaningful look with the hunchback.
“To catch you?” they asked. “So they liked you?”
“Well, I believe so, but they saw clearly that I was not willing.”
“Well, well,” I said, “so you are one of those who... I knew a gentleman who was like you; he had been persuaded that he was the pearl of the handsome and the rich, and he believed that all the young ladies were running after him. You know, it is a great misfortune to be like that, not to mention that it is unbearable for everyone else.”
But everyone was laughing, and glances were exchanged that were hardly flattering to Miloradovitch.
I was wearing a loose garment of brocaded silk that I had put on to play croquet. Underneath one could see the skirt of the grey Marie-Antoinette dress; the white brocaded silk wrapped around me looked rather bad over it, but I took good care not to put the bodice back on, for, being in the purest Louis XVI style, it would seem too dressy, and Gritz would think I was trying to catch him.
Ah! no, you see, when one is stupid it is a very great misfortune.
In his manner this evening I noticed the same awkwardness as in that of the handsome Emile of Nice whenever marriage is mentioned. Perhaps Emile too thought that someone wanted to catch him?
And all this is Michel’s doing. Gritz dared hardly speak to me from one end of the drawing room to the other, and only towards half past nine did he venture beside me, but he was so frightened and seemed so ill at ease that I smiled with contempt. And when Kapitan came to ask him to ask me to play something, for I had refused Kapitan, poor Gritz turned round all bristling.
in the margin
Mme Miloradovitch was vexed that I did not go to see her. And her lover Yonina, who, with the help of his mistress Mme Belli, was scared out of his wits at the thought of Gritz marrying and the fortune escaping them. So they turned the boy’s head, and every ruse, every provincial infamy was brought into play.
“Why me... how can I ask more than you, me...”
“I shall listen to neither of you,” I said.
“But perhaps numbers will prevail,” said Kapitan.
“Numbers will change nothing, I assure you, and if I did not play for you, I shall not play for M. Miloradovitch.”
“Mademoiselle knows,” this young imbecile was murmuring to Kapitan, “that she would give me, give us, immense pleasure, but... well... I mean...”
God, how stupid it is to be stupid.
I was stiff and severe, and gave the signal for departure at ten o’clock.
I went to the Princess, who bears Michel a grudge for the chase after the Italian, and who assured me that the scamp was plotting something nasty.
“You know, Mousse, the two Eristoffs are full of the most malicious spirit. I shall give you an example.”
“Pacha’s sister was being courted by Baron (something or other), and Constantin Eristoff plotted so much and said so many vile things that the marriage fell through.”
“But here there is nothing of that kind.”
“No doubt, but you can never imagine how vile these Eristoffs are. And I feel that something is being plotted.”
Really, I should be very curious to know what.
At that moment my father arrived; they told him everything, even the story of my bodice. This worthy gentleman is back from Kharkoff, where he went to mortgage his lands. “Three more years and he will go up the chimney,” as they say vulgarly in Russia.
But that Gritz! I know very well that Michel stuffs him with all sorts of nonsense; Michel is sly and malicious, and Gritz lets himself be completely dominated. What a misfortune to be stupid!

Notes

Marie translates the Russian saying вылететь в трубу, «to fly out through the chimney», that is, to be ruined. ↩