Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 27 January 1878

With Cassagnac — the devil knows how my competition is going... Yet I believe I have worked as well as if nothing had been happening at the Madeleine post office.
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 arm, with whom she is in love. But I too had a great desire to go — yet since I have quite enough of balls from my time in Italy I am prudent, and I prefer to deny myself a pleasure than risk being recognised.
I asked Dina to request Blanc, who was there, to take me in secret from everyone to the Opéra.
La Fayet and d'Alt leave at one in the morning — Blanc as well.
At half past one I came down in a black domino and velvet mask, swathed in tulle and truly unrecognisable — not to Blanc, with whom I was obliged to speak and who would have recognised me by my hands alone. We promenaded until four in the morning like two saints. Poor frigate captain. I exchanged only a few words in Russian with some Russians — acquaintances by sight. Mme Basilevitch with M. de Tanlay. That has been going on since Spa.
But I confess I had expected a far more improper ball — barely a handful of wretched dancers. The corridors and foyer and boxes full but quiet. The noise of conversation was deafening, no doubt — but nothing of what one sees in engravings, so I am reassured.
In the corridors, Paul de Cassagnac — not too unworthy of himself — but very surrounded by women; and these unfortunate women, not content with approaching him, did nothing but talk about him to their partners. I do not know how many times I heard in the crowd:
— So you want to see this Cassagnac?
— Oh yes, yes.
— But where is he, this Cassagnac?
— Over there, in a box.
— I am going to go and say good evening to him.
Or else:
— Blanc! Tell your friend Paul he is irresistible — I am mad about him!
— What beautiful eyes he has!
He would unknowingly have come across the following letter:
[Friday, 25 January 1878] — Agreed! Until Sunday.
Do you know that you wield a sharp riposte, Monsieur the secretary of the five women?
But I like it — and a sharp thrust is worth more than certain kisses.
Now, joking aside, I am very happy you came — because among you I am certain to find at least one woman of wit: the one with whom I have the honour of corresponding.
This will allow me not to behave in a banal fashion, not to pay you court, and to treat you as good companions.
Are you going to the Bal de l'Opéra?
I am going.
And we shall have there, if you wish, the opportunity to gain a head start on the morrow.
Your victim,
P.
To which I reply by the following telegram:
— We shall all be in black.
[Unknown women]
The clerk absolutely wanted a name other than unknown women, although I told him it was a Spanish name.
Almost all the women are recognisable.
— Here is an excellent fellow, says Cassagnac to his lady, stopping before Blanc; he is charming — but for some time he has vanished from the earth, his friends see him no longer, he knows nothing. I therefore supposed he was entirely monopolised by a woman with whom he must be in love — and that woman must be this one here. Is it not you, Madame?
I nodded yes.
— It is you he is in love with, then?
— Yes.
— You should not monopolise him entirely — give him at
Ibid. p. 149
least one hour a day.
— What for?
— So that he may take the air!
— And if he finds himself happy without taking the air.
I wanted and feared to speak to him — and I made Blanc swear never to tell him anything, explaining that it was a very serious matter. Besides, Blanc will not speak.
A little later I asked Cassagnac whether he was not waiting for someone.
He turned sharply and said yes — but that he could not find them. Blanc, contrary to his habit, asked me ten times to tell him whom I was going to intrigue; and at each encounter with Cassagnac I feared that the famous captain would be surprised by the agitation of my arm.
How cold it is! Yesterday, Saturday, I sent for Comte d'Aspremont, who is president of the Nice Exposition. He came; we talked about art, and he promised to accept my bust despite the Exposition having already opened.
That is settled.