Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 29 September 1877

Several letters were brought to me this morning; I grant the honours of the Journal to this one alone — it merits them:
'[Wednesday, 19 September 1877]
I have been touched by the affectionate sentiments your letter expresses and I come to thank you for them with all my heart.
Yes, you are right, I shall always be for you an elder brother, remaining faithful to you, and loving in you the strange nature that I admire and that astonishes me.
You resemble nothing that is known.
And what pleases me in you is everything that escapes the notice of those around you.
Mademoiselle and friend,
Keep your affection for me — I value it, I value it greatly, and I declare myself very proud of it.
In the difficult days that are beginning, a valiant woman's heart such as yours is a good resource, and far from neglecting it, I call upon it earnestly.
You ask me what it was that kept me apart from you during your stay?
Oh! it is quite simple.
My friend Blanc had told me nothing of your presence in Paris, and I left for the South on the very day I encountered you in the rue de la Chaussée d'Antin.
There is no other mystery and there is no other secret.
And I should be very sorry about your suppositions, had they not led you to write me a sweet and kind letter — which constitutes our first meeting of friendship, is it not?
I leave again in five or six days, for the entire electoral period, and you would be most kind to tell me whether you are still cross with me.
As for me, I say: au revoir, and I kiss your two white hands, as must the most devoted and the most respectful of your friends.
Paul de Cassagnac
[Address:] 1, Bois de Boulogne
As you can see, it went to Schlangenbad and to Nice. At Schlangenbad it is dated the 20th September. Are you not surprised? At Wiesbaden, on the eve or the very day of our departure, I wrote Paul de Cassagnac the following letter:
"During our stay in Paris we were disagreeably surprised not to see you at all, despite the numerous invitations conveyed to you by your friend Monsieur Blanc. Now that we are far away — I, who let nothing drop — I come to ask you: why?
Whatever way one makes your acquaintance, one does not easily let go of it — you must know that, and especially I, who had imagined that you would be my elder brother. You had been told a great many things, for fear of not justifying everything that had been said. But that is not the point; if there is some reason I cannot know, tell me as simply as I am asking you — without even explaining anything.
I take your word of honour that no one will ever know I wrote this to you — I should be horribly ashamed."
Marie Bashkirtseff
[Written across the page: Now that the republicans' certificate of good character is no more, you must be in good humour.]
That is not quite it — the letter was better expressed; I do not know why, and contrary to my habit, I inserted it nowhere.
I was a little afraid — not very much; I detest not knowing where I stand. This excellent elder brother! Well, all this is very good.
Torlonia is here; Altamura is here. We have seen one another. Poor Altamura — what convulsions!
Schininà told me that Melissano is at Livorno with Larderei, that there is a rich American woman, and that Melissano hints in a letter to the Duke of Monteleone that it is for him. Perhaps for Larderei. I do not know whether I should be vexed about it, but I trembled a little for fear that Schininà would say so.
I dined at the table d'hôte in a simple short black dress and without a hat; despite this modest costume one would say the good times are back. So many glances, my Emperor! Above all my dear Italians. Rosalie says: the others too, only the Italians let it show more. I amused myself on the balcony; they paraded about as in Naples. If only the one with the magnificent black beard is not a stockbroker! He has already been watching me for two days.
This evening, passing before us with his friend, he let fall his cane; the friend rushed to pick it up, which put two of them on the floor at once and a thousand apologies. It is a pretty trick for getting a look at one's feet.
They say Larderei is here — it would be deeply unpleasant for me to encounter him, [words blacked out: especially before some of the] glories predicted by Edmond. Maman, who remembers everything, thinks it has the same tragic effect on me as before. I quite repent having told anyone something so humiliating.
So long as it was tragic and romantic, it was only an amusing grief; but now that everything is cold and worn out, all that remains is a very unpleasant feeling, like a nasty taste in one's mouth after something bad...
Poor Larderei! Of all your features, what has engraved itself most in my memory is your nose — and it seems to me too large.
Why destroy the poetry with such ugly observations! Bah! I write whatever comes to me. In a few days perhaps I shall see Alexandre again. Never!... not entirely. I have demolished him with this wretched reflection. Others too can topple my idols with a word, with a remark sometimes. I resent them for it just as I resent myself now — but the thing is done.
What a pity...

Notes

"My Emperor": Marie's mock-formal address to her imaginary diary reader, used as an exclamation. ↩