Saturday, 5 October 1878

Doenhoff lunched with us, tried on my pelisse, made himself agreeable. On returning from the atelier I found him in the salon — Mme Coubé as well.
But today is the day Robert-Fleury comes to give corrections at the atelier. Well, I was horribly frightened.
He said “ah! ha” and “oh! ho” in several different tones, and then:
“So you are painting?”
“Not quite, Monsieur — I shall only paint once a month...”
“No, you are right to begin — you can paint. There is good in it, there is good...”
“I was afraid I was not sufficiently advanced to paint...”
“Not at all — you are sufficiently advanced; continue; it is not bad...” etc. etc.
And thereupon a long lesson that proves it is not without hope, as they say at the atelier. I am not liked at the atelier, and at every wretched success Breslau gives me furious glances that are quite laughable.
But Robert-Fleury does not believe I have never learned to paint. He stayed a long time — correcting, chatting, and smoking as if he were Carolus. I received several pieces of extra advice, and then this imbecile asked how I had placed in the last competition of last year. And when I said second —
“And this year,” he said, “you must... hm?”
It is so absurd — he has already told Julian he thinks I shall have a medal.
And so here I am, without any difficulty, authorised to paint from life without having painted still lifes; I skip them as I skipped plaster casts.
Doenhoff had accompanied the ladies to the Exposition; at the entrance, they see Mme Randouin — who was a sub-prefect’s wife in the days when the Gavinis entertained all the crowned heads who passed through Nice so magnificently. Doenhoff knew her from that time too.
“Here is Mme Randouin,” Maman said to him.
She heard her and at once came up to the carriage and launched into a thousand amiable remarks — how happy she is to have been called by Madame, how much Mme Gavini has spoken to her of us, how well she knows us from Nice, how delighted she is to make our acquaintance, etc.
Mme Gavini had indeed told me that Odette wished to make our acquaintance.
Mme Randouin can be thirty-five at the very most; she having been is quite beautiful, having been quite pretty. I believe she amuses herself a great deal, but the husband is always there, and she is a lady one receives.

Notes

Pelisse: a fur-lined or fur-trimmed outer coat; a fashionable garment of the period. ↩
In French in the original: sans espoir. ↩
Carolus-Duran (Charles Durand, 1837–1917), fashionable portrait painter who ran his own teaching studio in Paris. ↩