Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 31 March 1878

The evening classes are finished; I shall have to organise some work for myself at home.
This morning I telegraphed to Marcuard as follows:
Our travellers have departed and will arrive in Florence on Monday.
Mme Bashkirtseff.
At eight o'clock we receive the following despatch:
I have received the despatch, thank you. Can you telegraph the time of arrival.
Marcuard.
They will arrive Monday by the first train. Regards.
Bashkirtseff.
Tomorrow another despatch. I want them to stir themselves a little in Florence — they are so bored there at present that it will cause a sensation.
It is this evening at half past eight that I am to be in a cab opposite the Madeleine to meet Multedo.
It is very wrong, but what is one to do — I promised.
At nine o'clock therefore a cab draws up before the great door of the church, and a man who had been walking up and down impatiently in the foul weather approaches the door and opens it.
"Do not open the door," says Rosalie, disguised as Mme de Daillens (whom he had taken on Thursday for my lady's maid).
"Not open the door?..."
"No, no, Monsieur, and if you give your word of honour not to follow us, Madame will unmask herself."
"I will give whatever words of honour you wish...."
"But you recognise me... it is I, Multedo."
He had his hand upon his heart.
"Yes, and do you recognise me?"
"Yes," he says, catching sight of the domino, the blonde wig, the small hands which he presses most tenderly in the world.
"Wait — I am going to remove my mask."
"Oh! Yes."
The mask and wig and hood fall away, and he steps back in stupefaction before the face of my little aunt Marie.
At this moment Rosalie pulls a cord which the cabman held in his hand, and we drive off while Multedo cries out:
"That is not badly played!" — then, recollecting himself, clutches the carriage door, crying:
"But where are you going, where are you going?"
But the cab is far away, and I can at last come out from under the seat. We had chosen an old carriage, round as an ark, and I had been hidden under a fur rug.
If he is taken in by nothing — which I believe — he will at least know how I keep appointments with men. I also believe that what enraged him most was knowing that I had witnessed the whole scene.
But this is not the end. We dress and go to the Boyds', where we have arranged to meet Blanc on a matter of business.
A little later Filippini and Multedo arrive — the latter very irritated. Berthe had invited them yesterday.
Multedo pays court to me and goes as far as declarations in the most Italian manner. [Words blacked out: my entire defence consists in this] more or less varied.
"I do not understand what you are saying; I know absolutely nothing; I have seen you only twice."
For he heaps fifty veiled reproaches upon me — such that had I known nothing I should have understood nothing. If Berthe were not so incurably mad about Lancaster she would be angry on Multedo's behalf. I bear him no ill will... since it would serve no purpose.
Formerly I should have made a celebration and a triumph of what Multedo said to me. Now... I receive it as a small instalment of what I am owed, and I am almost indifferent to it. I do not want serious attachments for at least two years — I owe myself to Art — and yet my coquetry and female pride will not accommodate themselves to half-conquests. Very well then, let them be complete but unworthy, so that I can without hesitation decline to marry. Yes, but then I shall rail against fate for sending me only things that cost me no merit to refuse. Thank God we are not yet at that point.
Several times during the evening I laughed to myself, and each time he would say, shaking his head:
"You are amused by it — you are quite proud of yourself."
For a full hour he proved to Mme Yorke that a woman is always recognised; I laughed to see them debating a question of which I alone held the key.
I forgot to tell you that Kolemine was furious at the first ball — he had taken it all so seriously; and Edwards too, for that matter, who told me Thursday that it had meant nothing to him personally but that Kolemine was furious. And they say that men no longer let themselves be
caught by tricks as commonplace as these.
I should like to know whether Don Carlos kept the appointment.
The devil take him! He is a fool.