Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 30 December 1877

It is truly pitiful to take up one's pen to relate that Georges has come back, that he entered the dining room, that I rose to drive him out, and that Maman flung herself against me to protect him — as if I could do him harm. No doubt that was not her intention, but it has happened before, and it had put me in a state fit to kill someone; afterwards I explained at length the result of behaving in that way and begged her never to do it again, saying it drove me mad. This evening the same thing. And they dared to say something against me!!!
They are mad, or else they want me to kill myself.
When I reason it out I would never do it — but in a moment like this evening, when I tell you they drive me mad, raving mad. And merely remembering that scene I am ready to go and strike my mother with my hand, with anything at all.
Rage is choking me... I do not know what I am going to do — I lay down for three hours, ill, and now I am too enraged, too angry, too beside myself to sleep. My God, have pity on me, give me the patience to live.
[Two lines crossed out: encounter with Paul; the Christmas tree. Sadness, fortune-telling. Bonbonnière]
^2^ Berne, 30 December 1877. Dear Mademoiselle Marie,
A thousand thanks for your kind news and the welcome news you give of your grandfather. I hope the improvement will continue progressively.
You will receive from me a small crate with two cakes — one for you, the other for Mademoiselle Dinaah!! You may taste them boldly; they are hazelnut cakes, made here especially for the holidays and generally considered quite good...
Please accept, along with you and all your family, my warmest greetings and every good wish for the new year.
We leave on the 7th of January for Menton, my father having decided on that place rather than Nice — he is not very well.
Pray tell me whether you are remaining in Paris, or keep me informed of your movements.
Your most devoted servant,
F. de Marcuard