Wednesday, 6 September 1876 (25 August)

Gritz has left for Vienna. Besides, he had been announcing this journey since the very first day I saw him, and he was not leaving willingly,
MM. Volkovitsky and Pavelko spent the day at Gavronzi. Volkovitsky is married to an illegitimate daughter of Prince Serge Kotchoubey, and is consequently well placed in Poltava. Pavelko is a lawyer and the local lion.
My father does not want to show me [to] everyone: very well; for my part, I refuse to serve him as a piece of furniture to entertain the riffraff who come to win his money at cards!
So I kept to myself with the Princess.
Michel arrived for dinner, and would you believe it? I was almost glad of it, I am so bored; besides, he is very much in love with me, and that amuses me. You know, he had nothing more pressing to do than announce it to all Poltava, adding that Miloradovitch was standing in his way. In the way of what? Oh! the poor creature. I grew lively in the evening, thanks to the delightful hotbed of intrigue that was revealed to me. Pacha detests Mme Tutcheff for her haughty airs, and above all for her way of slandering people and spreading gossip. I am very glad to hear it! So it is not an invention of Maman’s. Michel detests her because of his brother, and the Princess does not like her for the same reason. All this was said in front of me, out loud; I joined in gaily, but prudently.
Michel showed me the letter his brother has written him and the one he is writing back, in which he says simply that it is shameful to spend one’s life under old petticoats and to write impertinences to one’s brother at someone’s dictation. It is charming: they all bite one another.
You want intrigues? Here you have them. Am I in the thick of it! I should think so.
“Gossip!” I cried in the middle of the drawing room. “Slander! You think I do not know how to do it! You will see, you will see, Papa, I shall do it, and without seeming to!”
This is my way of proceeding. I am like our ancient Prince Oleg, who, at a time when war was waged in the most treacherous way imaginable without anyone thinking ill of it (for Oleg was regent for Igor, son of Rurik, the first Russian prince, in the ninth century), in that savage age in Russia, Oleg never attacked a nation without first sending it his eternal: “I am marching against you.”
Instead of going to bed early as I wished, I am going to bed at four. My father’s vanity made him call me to help him count his money, a few thousand francs... Then he shows me bank drafts and a heap of securities; I looked and told him that it was all of no use.
“What!” he exclaimed.
“Of course. If you have so much money, why do you run up debts? And where does this money come from? From the sale of your forests.
“Mind you, that part is well done, for you have cleverly arranged the sale of the timber: since you cut only one section each year and there are sixty sections, at the end of sixty years, when the last is cut, the first will have grown again. You see that I know about such things; but you spend more than your income, and you will be sorry for it. And what is the use of all these notebooks, all these fat ledgers you fill with figures, all this order in your papers, when you are marching straight to ruin all the same! I can very well tell you so; I have no interest in the preservation of your property; I speak out of pity!”
There. All the same, he did not take it amiss. He felt the truth; the truth tasted bitter to him, but he bore me not the slightest resentment for it. And now let us go to sleep, for it will be daylight in a few minutes.

Notes

Marie gives the famous warning to the wrong prince. The Russian Primary Chronicle tells it of Sviatoslav I of Kiev (10th century), who sent word to his enemies before attacking: “I want to come at you” (Old East Slavic khochiu na vy iti, popularly quoted as idu na vy, “I am coming at you”). Oleg, regent for Rurik’s son Igor in the 9th century, is the earlier prince she names. ↩