Saturday, 16 March 1878

You had no need, dear Mademoiselle, to fear Cassagnac — he is not coming. He had invited himself and he uninvites himself. And I, who am so gay and so pretty, with my hair so beautifully done. I resembled Madame Récamier this evening.
blacked outBut first here is my reply to Cassagnac’s excuses, traitor! Here...
Copied letterBillet de Marie à Paul de Cassagnac, [samedi 16 mars 1878]
[Saturday, 16 March 1878] Traitor — what will Victorine say? I run to put her off, but I doubt she will keep until next Saturday.
I went to see the exhibition at the Mirlitons. I truly love my craft, and I am glad to find myself ever more sure of it.
For some time now, Robert-Fleury said to me this morning, there is a limit you cannot cross. That is not right. With your very real gifts you ought not to stop at easy things — especially since you possess the most difficult part.
Heaven knows I know it! A portrait to paint at home, and then Cassagnac, and then those horrible domestic vexations. But that will trouble me no more — I refuse to allow it. Cassagnac will give me nothing, whereas painting will give me something. If at least he looked at me a little more — but like this... as a diversion once a month — truly it is not worth the trouble. Sometimes a man naturally loves a woman; other times the woman makes herself loved.
How does she do it????
I suspect that love always comes of itself — only one thinks one has brought it about when it arrives while the woman is striving to make herself loved, when the man was already disposed that way and would have fallen in love even without artifice.
No — one must be able to make oneself loved by one’s own doing — but this is not easy for a young girl in whom one always suspects a matrimonial design, which is repugnant when one is not madly in love.
Victorine has sent her excuses for this evening! I pin the two letters together and shall not be separated from them until Popaul pays a visit. Could he be brute enough to make do with such a truffled turkey!
What a quantity of nonsense we talked with the Boyds this evening!
MM. d’Andigné and de Beaurepaire — who was more decorous than usual — except when he said to Berthe, who called herself a communard, that for a young lady of marriageable age it was not fortunate, as it might lead to communism. Berthe opened her eyes wide and I said:
— She is not French, Monsieur, and she did not understand. Nor did I.
He can’t be fond of me.
This evening I should not have been afraid if Cassagnac had been there.
But on Monday — how I shall cross the limit Robert-Fleury speaks of. One must above all be thoroughly persuaded that one must succeed, and that one will.

Notes

Les Mirlitons: the nickname of the Cercle de l’Union artistique, whose members showed their work early in the year in one of the small exhibitions beside the Salon. ↩
Victorine: Victorine, comtesse de Fayet, Marie’s accomplice in the letters to Cassagnac (Mon Journal t.11 index: «Fayet (Victorine, comtesse de), née Svristounoff»). Dinde (turkey) also means a silly woman. ↩