Sunday, 14 April 1878

We went to church in black; I take advantage of this week, in which Schaeppi will at last finish my portraits, to fulfil my religious duties. Then I go with Marie to the Madeleine, from which we bring back Mouzay. She tells me that I am failing to play my true role and Cassagnac too, that I am making a fool of myself, that he does not take me seriously, that I am not at all fulfilling the conditions of the programme she had set before him — in short, that I am drowning in trivialities while I could play every imaginable role, be a Mme Récamier — or better still! But I quite agree with her, I tell her so, I dress in front of her, I am ready to... in short, in two hours I pass through every extreme and so ravage my mind that here I am quite at a loss as to where and how I stand. M. d’Alt has just left. M. Multedo has just come in.
Then MM. de Plancy and Goldsmid. Multedo began by paying court to Dina, hoping I would go and claim him as I did yesterday and before — but I left him to it since there was Plancy, who is as good as he, so that seeing I did not even look at him, the conversation languished and ended by ending and becoming heavy and tedious to both of them, while I amused myself with the others, noticing from the corner of my eye the phases through which that wretched deputy and poor Dina — who was laughing inwardly — were passing. In short he departed with a smile on his lips and eyes cast down — you know that confused, embarrassed, pitiable smile...
I have humiliated him in my own eyes... he will console himself during his twenty-one days of military service. I do not do things by halves. And Mouzay’s political salon... It turns my mind upside down and gives me a fever. I am a fine one!... If it came to pass I should have nothing more to wish for — and that would not be natural. It could have been easily arranged, despite everything. If Cassagnac saw me through the other man’s eyes — yes, but there it is! I longed all day to be seen by Cassagnac, I looked pretty in black, for Cassagnac’s sake — I committed the weakness of going to the Madeleine, I would have committed that of walking in the Champs-Élysées had all these people not come... and once they had left, Dina, Marie, and I, seated beside a balcony window in the most poetic moonrise, proceeded to dissect them so coldly, so cynically... no matter — my political salon....
My emperor! That is just the word for it.
Blanc came in the evening — Blanc transformed, rejuvenated, smartened up — what reconciliation does for a man. He speaks of nothing else; a week ago he had nothing but ill to say of him.
Think of it — what horror! Cassagnac has had enough of his Hungarian woman and wishes to marry! On this subject Dina declares herself mad about him and we discuss it. Blanc maintains that characters like Popaul and myself would make an ideal union — or else would throw carafes and glasses at each other’s heads.
Ideal union... no, for I should be so afraid of him that... that I should make of my skin a carpet for his feet.
I cannot judge anything clearly; I do not know whether I would be lying in saying that something strange is happening within me — to use the technical term for analogous circumstances. If I were rich!!!! On the subject of riches — can you picture Paul de Cassagnac, that sort of great man, going in search of a dowry?! If that came to pass it would be cause to despair of the entire world! But it would be hideous, horrible! A man like him must not marry. I spoke before Blanc without embarrassment, having announced and repeated that I was no longer a woman and was looking at all of this from the mountaintop. It is the truth — come now!!
You know... there are thoughts I do not confess at present.
That is to say, there is Cassagnac. written across the page All too much so. And I would have had Cassagnac. 1880
Poor Grand-papa — he takes an interest in everything and suffers so greatly from being unable to speak. I understand him best; he was so happy this evening. I read him the newspapers and we all talked together in his room. For me it was a grief, a joy, a tenderness.
And now my vexation, my rage, my despair have no expression in human language!! If I had been drawing since the age of fifteen I should already be famous!!!
Do you understand?!!