Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Tuesday, 27 November 1877

Monsieur Julian came up to us, somewhat rattled after the judgement of MM. Fleury, Boulanger, and Lefèbvre, and addressed us roughly as follows:
— Ladies, the gentlemen have ranked only six heads below the medal — which has been won by Mademoiselle Delsarte (the Frenchwoman), as you already know. The others are ranked simply so as to have places in the next competition, and the last three... will draw lots, no doubt so as to spare the feelings of these ladies...
A voice told me I would draw lots, and though it would have been entirely natural I was left put out by it. After this short speech, which produced a considerable impression on everyone, he added these words:
— I shall not be able to identify whose heads are whose — would one of these ladies be good enough to write down the names as we go. 1st — who?
— Mademoiselle Wiik.
— 2nd?
— Mademoiselle Bang.
— 3rd?
— Mademoiselle Breslau.
— 4th?
— Mademoiselle Nordlander.
— 5th?
— Mademoiselle Forchhammer.
— 6th?
— It is Mademoiselle Marie! cried the Polish girl.
— Me, Monsieur?!
— Yes, Mademoiselle.
— But that is ridiculous!
I am in the top six. Amélie, Zillhardt, the Polish girl are after me; I am the last to have arrived at the studio, having been there only since 3 October. Good heavens! [Written across the page: they had never spoken to me before]
Everyone came to congratulate me; Mademoiselle Delsarte (Madeleine, the Frenchwoman) came to say kind things, and her sister Marie named us the two heroines of the competition.
— What you have achieved in so little time is worth more than a medal after four years of study.
A success... what a charming success, my emperor! as dear, wretched Alexandre would say, apropos of this!
Poor dear Alexandre is in luck. Just think — he has been challenged by the brother of Marcuard's brother-in-law. He was challenged because it is he, Alexandre, who gave the offence. Marcuard says he will make a full and flat apology, because Monsieur de Martino is simply looking for a man to run through.
Poor Bijou. Dear, wretched creature who has been telling little tales of cowardice about me to Marcuard. Well, never mind — I am glad for him, for he will not make any apology.
I must also tell you that we were at Versailles with Blanc, and as Popaul was not there I slept a little.
Marcuard to dinner. Ah! Marcuard — how we laughed together; I even wept with it.
Experience, or the holes one falls into, is good for something — whatever I may say. Marcuard spoke to me of love; we joked a great deal, returning now and again to Alexandre, and I danced so nimbly around burning topics that it was a real pleasure. I laughed at everything with wit, and with liberties that dissolved into childishness. God knows what I should have said only a year ago — what I should have answered the Swiss, not in regard to Bijou, but for things... of his own. I cannot sufficiently thank myself or express my satisfaction at having at last profited with intelligence and grace from the numerous and abominable lessons that Providence has hurled at me.
I assure you that Marcuard shows me all the respect that is due to me.
What is tiresome is the companion of Madame Doubelt, who comes here and is really... funny, strange, improper. These are disagreeable and compromising acquaintances. This young person set us to playing cards — I lost (80 francs) to Marcuard, which is not at all proper.
But I enjoyed myself — I mocked myself, everyone, and everything! That is what is good and right, and convenient.