Tuesday, 30 January 1877

I went to fetch my model and set to painting until evening.
My model Olga is the most infernal of faces. Not a moment’s calm; the expression changes every minute and the eyes get up to the most incredible tricks.
In the report on the last day of the races one reads these few exceedingly stupid lines:
Newspaper clippingLe Sport (Robert Milton), compte rendu du dernier jour des Courses de Nice, janv. 1877
In my last article I spoke of two young ladies in white, in a white basket carriage drawn by white horses; up to that point, then, I was scrupulously accurate. It was in saying that these young ladies belonged to the amiable world that I was in [!’] error. What I did not know is that these young ladies belong to the best Russian society (which does not in the least prevent it from being amiable) and that they were followed by their parents in a landau. None of this detracts from the oddity of the turnout, which I continue to compare, if not to a cream puff, at least to a vanilla parfait.
So now I am in the papers.
Meyssner came as he did yesterday and we built houses of cards. I made him whistle, then I told him fairy tales, after which I asked him whether he was disposed to fall in love with me.
That threw him into confusion, but my smile was too frank for him not to recover at once. And how we laughed!
He is a “little young man”, gentle and shy and naive, not badly brought up.
My mothers are back from Monaco, where they were with Mme Souvoroff; I was talked about. The Princess proposed to marry me to the Comte de Doenhoff, whereupon my aunt told her very politely that I was not to be taken for some poor little nobody, and that I was the most particular and the proudest of creatures.
— People are always asking me why she wears white, said the Princess.
— Because it pleases her, and me too, replied my aunt.
Then, as the Princess launched into an intimate conversation, my aunt, with a frankness worthy of me, said that she did not care a fig for Nice society, that she had never known anyone but the consul, who was always ready to oblige, and through him the Howards; as for the rest, she had never set eyes on them. In short, she spoke very well and, outwardly at least, kept up a most becoming dignity. Besides, my aunt knows how to answer, and her stern, bold manner makes people respect her.
Ah!