Tuesday, 23 October 1877

I am very cross. Des Perrières and the inoffensive Vasconcellos stayed until half past two. We had supper.
Seeing that it would be difficult to wake at seven the next morning, I resolved not to go to bed at all... At eight Rosalie comes in — I tell her to open the shutters and she goes out having shut them. I rise furious and learn that by order of my mothers the carriage has been sent away. It is infuriating!! Oh! if you knew how infuriating it is! Such things reduce me to despair and to tears! This is how one shows one’s affection! So that I might rest, might sleep.
Shame on them! The wretches!
No — such an act of stupidity — for it is atrociously stupid — can give me something like a fit of wild madness.
Ten o’clock strikes.
Oh! how absurd it is, stupid, insolent, and idiotic! oh! but idiotic!
And Antonelli!... it is almost two years and I am ashamed as if it were yesterday.
I am eighteen years old!!!
I am eighteen. That is nothing and that is too much. At eighteen I ought to have begun to be famous.
For the afternoon model we have a Black man. In the morning, an Italian woman — a woman of Trastevere in her rather unpleasing costume.
There is a hat that is not quite right — these absurdities always worry me, which is amusing, is it not.
I asked Carie des Perrières, amongst other things, whether he had not encountered the Comte de Larderel at Audiffret’s.
— In Monaco, yes, Mademoiselle — I saw him chatting with some friends of mine, and then approaching the table, drawing out his purse and a fan with which he fanned himself continuously and from which he never parted. It was for that very reason I had noticed him.
It was a fan that Maman had given him.
The disguise... the king... Oh! my God, how wretched I am and... and ashamed.

Notes

In Italian in the original: trasteverina. A woman from Trastevere, the old working-class district of Rome, whose traditional dress was a favourite subject for artists. ↩