Thursday, 11 April 1878

I called at the Boyds', who are in the greatest agitation.
This flight had been preceded by a violent scene caused by an anonymous letter in which Mme Boyd was told that Berthe was the mistress of this Lancaster Johnstone, and that two days ago at a supper with courtesans some young men had congratulated the man on having one so pretty. "She is pretty, yes," he had said, "but she is beginning to bore me, and if you like I shall let you have her for two hundred francs." This is a sample of the squalor of this entire deplorable affair.
Yorke, who is despicable because she is evidently an accomplice in all of it, leaves here with her elder sister Edith — the best, the only decent woman in her family.
Edith is in tears and greatly agitated, while the other appears very calm and sufficiently ashamed.
Let me attend to my own terrors now. I asked Cassagnac whether he had received any letters (from Fayet etc.), and he told me he had received only one, which arranged a meeting at the Opera for mid-Lent, telling him that he had friendships that were not worthy of him and that information would be given to him. You will understand my torment when I tell you that on hearing of this petty nastiness, of which I am innocent, I blushed!!
Besides, I am never wrong... witness the Lancaster affair. Well then, I have a notion — would that I might be wrong! My notion is that Cassagnac detests me all the more because he thinks I love him and intend perhaps to marry him... in short all manner of squalid fancies! I feel ashamed and I hate myself as I did last year in Naples! I detest my feet, my hands, my face, my dresses. I cannot bear myself! In my life everything repeats itself, and [Words blacked out: I feel coming upon me] these symptoms of pleasures and vexations like a sickness. It is dreadful! It all began at Spa, owing to I know not what curse, on account of a man I cared for no more than M. de
Beaurepaire.
My God, my God, have pity on me — you alone can make it be but a false alarm, but a useless and stupid imagining!
But why Cassagnac, whom I barely know!!
On leaving me he repeated several times: "My regards to all your family" — as though he feared I might wish to turn our encounter into a clandestine meeting... or what do I know!
Larderei began to detest me all at once — I felt it immediately and at once began the follies you know of.
What an accursed, ten times horrible and accursed rage for connecting everything, comparing everything, assimilating everything!
Understand then, miserable ones, that I have nothing more to do with my past, which I detest!! Since I began a new life, no superstition from the past can touch it. I am under God's protection — I am almost certain of it; I have prayed so much for it.
It is true... it was a groundless fear. I hope with all my soul that there is nothing so abominable in reality. And yet... I am afraid all the same, but I shall pray to God tonight and he will save me; I shall ask him no favour as before, I shall beg him only to leave me in peace, not to be slandered, hated! May no one think me to be all that I imagine they think... Oh! Do what I will, I have always had the same fears — but are they founded?? It is the terrible question.
No, it is absurd — at least here, I feel now that it is absurd. I am afraid again, very afraid. My God, have pity on me. All I ask is to live quietly as I did the first three months at the atelier!
And to achieve that result one must remain calm and wait on events. Everything will right itself. These are wise words that ought to bring me back to reason.
I am almost asleep — my eyes are closing.