Wednesday, 10 April 1878

I have finished Le lys dans la vallée. It is a very fatiguing book despite its beauties. The letter from Nathalie de Manerville that closes the book is charming and true.
Reading Balzac to my own detriment! For after all, that time spent working would help me become myself — a Balzac of painting.
At one o'clock, as I was returning to the atelier, I met Paul de Cassagnac on the boulevard. I was in a coupé and dressed like a Swiss woman — to put it badly — and at first, not recognising me, he took me for a woman charmed by his handsome appearance and looked attentively into the carriage. I had the coachman turn and told him to stop beside "that stout gentleman." The fact is he appeared well fattened and not at all the ideal of beauty.
We talked for a few minutes; he told me in brief what you will read in Le Pays of Thursday 11 April, which I am keeping for you.
^5^ Here is Cassagnac's article: I was not in Paris yesterday, and it was difficult for me to respond to this question from La France.
What will be the position of M. Paul de Cassagnac — defeated at Auch in the person of his candidate M. Peyrusse — with regard to his colleague M. Alphonse Gent, victorious at Orange with a majority of 2,000 votes over M. le Marquis de Bilioni?
I was defeated, it is true, but after three invalidations and six ballots in which I triumphed five times.
If there is an honourable defeat, it is this one — the more so since M. Peyrusse's majority was small and fluctuated between fifty and six hundred votes at most.
But that changes nothing in my position with regard to M. Gent.
I think as before that it is wrong to be one's sister's lover, and it is no reason — because the voters of Vaucluse find this quite natural — for me to modify my family tastes.
The voters can name a deputy, but they are incapable of changing human laws and proclaiming the excellence of incestuous adultery.
All the ballots from the urn could pass through without washing away the stain, as Musset would say.
M. Gent elected deputy remains the M. Gent we know, and his success modifies our feelings toward him in no way whatsoever. It proves at most that his voters have different ideas from ours in matters of morality, and that is all.
Our friend Albert Rogat had replied yesterday to La France.
One question calls forth another.
What will be the position of the republican majority in the Chamber, which has patronised and managed to incorporate a colleague whom it knows, beyond any doubt, to be an incestuous adulterer?
This morning La France retorts: "Although M. Alphonse Gent carried more than 1,700 votes over his opponent the Marquis de Biliotti, and universal suffrage has thus sovereignly pronounced, Le Pays commits the impropriety and impudence of persisting in its war of impunity against the deputy for Orange.
Today MM. Alphonse Gent and Paul de Cassagnac are both members of the same Assembly; does Le Pays not see that the deputy for the Gers has what it takes for the deputy for Vaucluse to confront him and say: "One of us two is superfluous in this chamber... You have the choice either to leave it, or to give yourself the lie." To begin with, it was not we who started this. The appointment of M. Gent was used as an argument against us.
Le Pays simply replied that the argument was stupid.
They insisted!
La France recalls that we refused satisfaction by arms to M. Gent.
What use would that be?
Does La France consider that the duel is made to protect filth and indecency and prevent them from being stigmatised!
Either the Gazette des Tribunaux told the truth, or it lied.
If it told the truth, can one have an affair of honour with M. Gent?
If it lied, let them prove it to us, and we shall make apologies most willingly?
As for the confrontation that La France imprudently counsels M. Gent to, we await it with sceptical curiosity, recalling that Colonel Tallandier only broke his brother-in-law's arm, which leaves us everything else to demolish, should that necessity be imposed on us by the needs of legitimate defence. P. de G.
I trembled like a leaf when I saw him approach
Ibid., p. 245
the carriage; it was as though I had fifty thousand things to reproach myself for in his regard; then in speaking I had somewhat forgotten this fear. He has been back since this morning at eight o'clock. I am utterly exhausted!
The fact is he looked quite ravaged. Small wonder — I, who am neither a man nor French, was strangely surprised by the election of M. Gent. It is squalid even for the republicans themselves. One might be republican, but more cleanly. And above all the six ballots for M. Peyrusse. But never mind — none of that prevents my dear great man from having the skin of his neck in poor condition. I hope that the Paris air and the attentions of his dear Swedish wife will set all that right. I arrived at the atelier all laughter — think of it, I was thinking of him at the very moment I met him.
Second anatomy lesson. M. Angé evidently respects me; it is to me that he principally addresses himself and to me that he hands the plates, the bones, etc.
Berthe, who had gone out walking with her sister and Dina, ran off with Lancaster. She went into a shop asking them to wait and slipped out by another door.
I foresaw it — that repulsive man was bound to sully her.
Mme Yorke, who was privy to the secret and had only invited Dina to have a witness of her supposed innocence, is a little woman honest at heart perhaps, but dissolute on the surface and with no more principles than she has lovers. She and their elder sister — a well-bred and comme il faut young lady and a woman of feeling — hurried here around six o'clock to reassure Dina on behalf of Mme Boyd and to beg us to keep the matter quiet.
I do not suppose it is pleasant not to recover the innocent child until the following day... Provided he agrees to marry her now. I tell you he is a vile man! I only caught a glimpse of him once — he is a vile man.
Let a girl fall — but what I hate is the recriminations, the tears afterwards. Either abstain, or frankly accept the situation and do not complain. It is base, it is squalid, it is revolting! He does not love you enough to marry you, and if you dare to love him knowing that, it is no longer love — it is bestiality. [Several words cancelled] Love resists forgetfulness, betrayal; but its delicacy, its divinity cannot withstand this species of incomplete, pitiable, base sentiment that this man has for you.
I went to see Mouzay before her guests had arrived; she receives on Wednesdays. I really behave like Cassagnac —
she does everything for me and I do not even show her common courtesies. I had to go and I went. What a warm welcome — those excellent creatures take me seriously, they truly believe me to be something superior. I consumed a bar of their chocolate and read them the article from Le Pays.
The observation I made on Monday about Multedo's nose is correct. Moreover he must have a dreadful character.