# Tuesday, 13 February 1877

It seems to me that I dreamed all of it.

I am beginning to detest myself again and to believe that people take us for a pack of adventuresses.

When I do not speak of a man it is because I no longer think of him. This is to tell you not to imagine, having read what I said of the Surprising One and Pietro, that it still continues. When it comes I say so.

Larderel did not expect to see me at the station and he had my withered violets in his buttonhole. An agreeable surprise — for me.

I predicted to Antonelli in the early days and afterwards that he would die within a year and two months. The term is expiring... I am not displeased.

I rose at two in the afternoon to drag myself from chair to armchair until evening.

And in the evening, instead of going to see the cavalcades, illuminations, fireworks, music, I speak of Larderel while listening to a serenade.

Rosalie comes to report that the coachman has received a telegram, that the Count is in Florence — a host of things about horses. And above all... Ah! this truly gives pleasure: know then that from the first evening of our arrival he knew we were his neighbours, and the proof is that he spent hours on his knees, his eye glued to the keyhole; and when he had to dress he posted his coachman there.

— Charles, watch and tell me what they are doing.

Charles recounted these scenes to Rosalie with gestures, and Rosalie comes to give me a repeat performance.

— And the coachman tells me: Oh! Monsieur was like a madman — he would come in, throw his hat down and fall there on his knees — like this — and then he would say that this young lady is so pretty and then at last — and you know, Mademoiselle, he says:

— Who?

— The Count, of course — he says he would like to marry you; he said the coachman would marry me and... that he would make him his steward, and they talked about money, and then naturally I said a heap of things... And then the coachman said that the Count, to make known he was there, would shout: give me this or give me that when he needed nothing at all, and that he was always on his knees before the door; and then he said he would not stay long — he is going to come back to Naples because he is completely like that.

I had the same thing repeated to me twenty times. The girl laughed because it seems the coachman told it in such an amusing way.

— Oh! but listen, Mademoiselle, cried Rosalie, ever since th’ first evening¹ when we arrived.

So it was he who began!

— And then, Rosalie continued, on the evening of the masked ball when you drew the curtain, he was there furious like this — another moment and he was going to demand that the curtain be removed. But Mademoiselle, I laughed, for I thought of you who were also watching — only you began, and not long ago — before that you did not know he was there.

You will understand that I have enough material to talk until eleven o’clock.

There are two things I shall never forget: the Apollo Belvedere costume, and the adorable hesitation before the railway carriage.

I was there in the middle of the compartment, not knowing whether there were two seats or three, one foot raised to board, an overcoat on his arm, and eyes so serious and so sincerely questioning that I perhaps deliberately prolonged that sweet perplexity. That tacit understanding pleased me — one word would have torn the veil and the charm would have been broken.

I am pliant, attentive towards my family, I am cheerful, and we speak of Larderel — and it is like a light and agreeable enchantment.