Saturday, 24 March 1877

[Crossed out: Since this morning]
I stayed long in bed trying to sleep, to be woken by a letter. But no — nothing arrives except a crate from Worth, then Nasimoff, and finally the Duc de Melito. We received only Nasimoff, because Maman is ill.
I go into town with Dina. Young Pignatelli is beginning to look at me seriously. But it is Melissano who is the most ardent.
At last I sink back into a kind of melancholy, from which Rosalie — who brings this letter — comes to rouse me, only to put me into a kind of anger. The letter seems impertinent to me and I am flushed with vexation. Would one believe it? I am seriously offended, and this letter silences on my lips all the little tender things I was accustomed to saying every day in jest.

Notes

Worth: the celebrated Paris couturier Charles Frederick Worth (1825–1895), whose house dressed the elite of Europe.