Saturday, 2 March 1878

Robert-Fleury was very pleased with me in the morning.
M. de Beaurepaire came with all his stupid arrogance, affecting to treat me like a little ignorant, a foreigner. I affected to treat him like a schoolmaster and put him admirably in his place. It was truly necessary; I may have been stiff, but he is so impertinent — and old into the bargain — with a wit that consists entirely of saying improper things.
Berthe and Yorke, M. Franceschi and Mme de Daillens.
Good heavens — let us not forget la Fayet, who came in the afternoon, and to whom I made it appear that Cassagnac was mad about her... She intends to write to him again. The mad creature is... mad about him.
— He fills me with enthusiasm! To see him at the tribune, saying all those extraordinary things with that insolent, calm, haughty manner. It is enough to drive one mad!
Poor old dear... I understand her.
The evening at the Opéra with Dina, Marie, and de Daillens.
I had discovered a marvelous way of disguising my voice and was preparing to mystify Cassagnac — but he fought a duel today at three o'clock with M. Thompson. M. Thompson was wounded. They say Cassagnac is doing his party harm; they say what he says is not suitable for the Chamber.
I am only a woman, and I judge him neither as a Bonapartist nor as a republican. All that matters little to me — and so I am filled with enthusiasm by yesterday's session. It is delightful — the aptness, the verve, the sharpness, the force, the wit, verging on the sublime if one may use that word. Had he had less wit yesterday, his speech would have been found serious and solid. Truth and candor and the defense of right have no need to be expressed so brilliantly.
What is heartbreaking in life is a handsome man — very handsome, and not with common beauty, but with a splendid, royal beauty — such a man when he is stupid. I speak of don
Carlos, whom I mystified — whereupon d'Andigné, who was with me, found no other role than that of... servant to His Highness, who had abandoned his wife, who kissed my hand and was very respectful (I had asked d'Andigné to obtain his word of honor as a prince), and to whom I have appointed a rendezvous for the day after tomorrow.
I showed him my hand and the lower part of my face, which gave him an appetite to see the rest. We went with him to smoke and take lemonade. I have been wanting to see him for two years now. I recognized him at once — he is divinely beautiful. D'Andigné did everything in his power to ensure the legitimate sovereign was not kept waiting; he is not amusing, but after all don Carlos is not just anyone, and as a curiosity I am not sorry to have walked about with him. It was the first time I had witnessed the role men play in the presence of both a prince and a woman. They set more store by it than he did himself.
No one recognized me — least of all those who do not know me. De Daillens is in love with a sculptor who had paid me court before don Carlos and who dismissed her as a little mongrel. I had my gloved hand and my foot in my favor. The poor woman trembled, could not say a word. She is a respectable woman — it is unfortunate that she should be in love. I made an appointment with the sculptor to visit his atelier, and I promised d'Andigné to name the day when he might see me... even though I belong to His Highness, he asks something for his good offices. They all believed me — I played my part well — but I regret that Cassagnac was not there.
I do not regret this evening as I regretted the Italian one. I did not compromise myself, and no one recognized me — not Blanc, not d'Andigné, not anyone.
This don Carlos is strange. I watched and studied him the entire time; I had thought about him a great deal, and this wandering king charmed me infinitely... But he is so... well-disposed... I am truly asleep — I think it is six in the morning.
I write with my eyes closed. I am sleepy.