Thursday, 18 January 1877

The secretary of the Cercle made me quite a speech as I came in, in which he said that the weather was superb, the company select and numerous, but that there had been a void, that I had been awaited, and that, now that I was here, everything was perfect.
And indeed it was a ravishing gathering — apart from a few nonentities, the representatives of the European aristocracy.
Soroka bows from a distance; Belle-de-jour showers me with attentions because I am with Princess Souvoroff, who is, as always, beautiful and charming, with her large, hard, fixed eyes. When she said that she had trembled for me along with my aunt, old Count Blondoff hastened to express I no longer know what sentiment regarding me. It seems to me he must be a dreadful backbiter; besides, I know him only to bow to, and not always that — most of the time I avoid meeting his eyes for fear of not being greeted.
I had my family, the Anitchkoffs and Pelikan, not to mention the princess, who introduced her son-in-law, Prince Tchetwertinsky, to us. Still, I felt rather ill at ease whenever I had to wait for the instructor, for no one asked me to skate, and Mme Anitchkoff was kind enough to say:
— Why doesn’t this one or that one come and ask you to skate?
Poor unworldly woman, she does not know what she is saying.
This evening the Christmas tree was lit at her house; the children danced round it, and Pelikan and my family did the same.
Alone, I was sombre. You cannot imagine how much harm such festivities do me.
Mme Tutcheff is giving a ball this evening.
Rangoni told me that Angelini is in Nice.
Oh! What a life!
And I have not enough strength of character to stay hidden.
I was praying to God; I stood up, and I have just reopened the white box to take out this notebook and cry with all the strength of my pen that everyone is dancing now!
O execration!