Saturday, 26 May 1877

We had a lesson in the tarantella, which is the most beautiful and most charming dance in the world. It makes one quite frenzied. Dina, who spends her life boasting that she might have been the finest dancer in the world, did not grasp the step I did at the first attempt, and instead of grace and spirit showed nothing but brazenness and cancan gestures. I told her so, for the simple reason that I cannot hold my tongue, especially where the good of others is concerned; but at heart I am pleased: thanks to my foolishness, Alexandrine, that girl really did imagine a host of things which, however absurd, ended by trying my patience.
Then came my old teacher Brunet, with whom we are going to limber up our learning faculties and set about the famous catalogue, which is a serious matter.
Ah! and then, and then I dressed like an angel: a panama, a gown of woollen muslin so fine that it is a delight, a Schiller collar with Valenciennes lace, and a sash of cloth of gold embroidered with sphinxes in antique tints, which fits the waist closely and is stunningly chic, as that grisette Lucie Durand would say.
And I went to the Skating rink, where there were a dozen people, and Audiffret with the inspector of dogs! He bowed to me, I did not see him; he was about to come over when, thanks to my bravery, I got myself tangled up.
What a pleasure to skate alone, that is to say, to be able to skate alone!
And then... in the evening, the same moon, the same sea, the same black trees. Lise and I went to torment Marie Leontievna in her bath; like the chaste Susanna she was all draped, and I was obliged to pull the sheet away to see... everything.
Maman and Bihovetz, with Walitsky, are back from Monaco; we had tea together, and that dog of a general took my hand and began to run his spoon over it.
— What is that for? someone asked.
— But can you not see that Mademoiselle Marie has a coating of sugar as thick as a finger...?
I am very fond of that flattery.
We laugh so much... about Alexandre; there is no more talk of him except to say that he has croaked, is done for, etc.
Alas! so it was not that yet! And it might have been, had there not been those chilling slights. One way or another, I am free again. But I have so great a weakness for my dear family, for my beloved family, that I must always think of the Exhibition of 1878 before I can consent to go to Paris... Florence, like the Eternal City, holds me utterly in its sway. I am in a fever at the very thought that a proper winter in Florence might be possible. But how? There might be a way... God is great; but the Exhibition brings me back to reason, and besides, who knows what the summer will bring? Perhaps I shall meet my... own somewhere.
You know, I am to go to Soden for my throat, I believe; that is a surprise which is not exactly charming. But my voice before everything.
How can one not love Alexandre for the pleasure he gives, the short time he lasts, and the light and charming memory he leaves?
Oh! what a difference from all those affairs of vanity — Audiffret — and of families — Antonelli. And yet Pietro loved me very much... that is a small compensation. I made too much of it; it was so new to me.
Naples and Alexandre are two rays of sunshine... in spite of everything, all the same.
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