Volume 77 begun on Sunday, 23 December 1877, completed Sunday, 3 February 1878
Why do you no longer come, women's stable? Many empty stalls. Straw, donkeys, cows. Cheesewoman (a maman who wants her daughter to draw) changed...
In the afternoon, Dina and I delivered calling cards for these ladies to the Boyds, to Mme de Tanlay, to Mme de Fayet, and so on.
I was still in tears when Blanc arrived. I dried my eyes and chatted and laughed as though nothing had happened. I do not see why one should do...
Poor wretch, poor man. It would be a terrible loss. He is suffocating — I could not stay five minutes in his room, it is so dreadful to watch him...
Zurlo came by in the evening on his way back; we talked of Naples... I wanted to go... No! I should regret it, I know I should regret it if I went.
This scene left me very pleased, and then serious — I no longer know why.
They are mad, or else they want me to kill myself.
I went to the Christmas tree at the Swiss girls' rooms. It was gay and pleasant, but I wanted to sleep — I had worked until ten in the evening.
We return home — and who do I find there! Paul de Cassagnac. He says he has suffered a great deal but that he is calm now, and having lunched with...
On the sheet is painted a champagne glass with the foam brimming over.
I again spent most of the time giving her a lesson.
How strange it is that the old creature is so soundly asleep. Scarcely anything remains of her — a memory now and then that reawakens past...
Since her sister's marriage she goes everywhere more than ever — beginning with the English court.
One might have — but it would require perseverance; I have that now, and experience as well — yet I am afraid to risk again. I shall not attempt it...
He is not stupid — quiet, a good artist, and speaking tolerably well on almost everything. Nothing of the dandy about him. Not a single compliment.
— You can do it; apply yourself and draw as though you had been doing it for two years.
I wept. Paul came to bid farewell to Grand-papa, and the old man began to cry and wail like a child — unable to speak, he held Paul by the hand,...
You have known for some time that the King is dead, but I have only just learned it — and that this Marguerite is queen. The wretch is queen! Of all...
Yesterday evening when I came to see him he said to me, half joking and half sad, ==*Addio Signorina*== — to recall Italy, Alexandre, and all that we...
Fresh dispatches from Nice.
Madame de Mouzay, seizing the opportunity, came to call — but with the best will in the world one could not maintain relations with her, as it would...
— "At the moment," says *Le Figaro*, "when Monsieur Paul de Cassagnac descended the steps of the temple, the greater part of those present removed...
Cassagnac has not replied through *Le Figaro*. Here is what we write to him again:
The wife is Cuban, the husband an Englishman naturalized French. Two not-bad young ladies, a fine apartment in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and...
Either the Court, or an intimacy where one can joke freely — but these little balls like yesterday's...
I accept your invitation with the greatest pleasure, my dear little friend — but how do you expect me to have returned from Versailles and dressed in...
Now there are people who say he is *making sport* of us. I do not believe it.
Fortunately there is the atelier. With the atelier I fear nothing.
— I beg your pardon for having led you, by ill-placed extravagances, to be wanting in delicacy toward me, before all those ladies. I was — I know it...
ve with him and all manner of nonsense. Am I really mad then?
The Boyds arrive at about ten in the evening — they are going to a ball and say they only found out at the last moment; it all depended on Berthe's...
At once Dina speaks in her natural voice. Ouf! Recognised on the spot, naturally. But he pretends not to have recognised us, and we take advantage to...
— But yes, but yes — you are the Colonelle to me; come — and he led me gently aside, letting the others go first. Well, here are several nothings...
La Fayet has come again to speak of her prince, who I believe is no more in love with me than with my lady's maid — the madwoman wants to make this...
Berthe still comes to draw with me, and I am more and more vexed at her stupidity of Sunday evening.
Cassagnac has taken my aunt's letter for one from Dina and replies accordingly — he says that as he is dining tomorrow with the Queen of Spain he is...
I find that the Hungarian woman's dying airs get on my nerves.
Cassagnac wishes to leave and says that it is difficult for him to dine with us this evening.