Wednesday, 3 October 1877

Wednesday being a favourable day for me, and today's date not being a 4 — which is unfavourable — I hasten to begin as many things as possible.
I sketched in pencil a three-quarter-view head at Julian's in ten minutes, and he told me he had not expected to see so well done for a beginner. I left early — I only wanted to make a start today. All this with Dina. We go to the Bois where I gather five oak leaves, then call on Doucet who in half an hour makes me a delightful little blue scapular. But what to wish for? I wish for so many things. To be a millionaire? To recover my voice? To win the Prix de Rome by entering under a man's name? To marry Napoléon IV? To enter high society?
I return to my little sachet having read a chapter of Michelet's Histoire de France. When this man speaks of God, it seems to me that he is joking, that he is mocking those who do not believe.
Now, what shall I wish for? While gathering the leaves I wished for the fulfilment of Edmond's prediction. But that makes little sense — since the moment I believe in the virtue of the leaf I must put complete faith in Edmond, and the wish is superfluous.
I choose something that must come quickly... yet the Prix de Rome tempts me beyond anything I can say...
But when the first thing comes to pass, one can begin again.
Very well — I wish for the full return of my voice, and I must not change my mind since it is not merely thought but written.
Amen.

Notes

A scapular is a small religious amulet, typically two cloth squares joined by cords, worn as a devotional charm. Here Marie uses one for luck in connection with the fortune-teller Edmond's advice.
The Prix de Rome: the prestigious French state scholarship in fine arts, allowing the winner to study at the Villa Medici in Rome. Women were barred from competing.