Sunday, 3 November 1878

Young Gavini (the nephew) went to the deputy Eschassériaux fils to ask for tickets — there is perhaps some hope.
I went to fetch Mother Gavini; there were people at her house, a Mme de Marcilly, to whom I was introduced, as I was yesterday to Mme de Balincourt. Maman, Dina, the lady and I go walking together. They want to marry me off — but so that no one shall use me to enrich some gentleman, I declare plainly that I am quite willing to marry, with pleasure — but on condition that he is rich, has a fine position, and is handsome; or else an intelligent, remarkable man, etc. As for his character, were he the devil himself, I shall see to that.
There is a great deal of feeling in the Marquis d’Ivry’s music. He has steeped himself in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, he adores it, and his music is delightful, though simple and almost colourless at first hearing. Moreover, the staging and the costumes are perfect. One is right in the thick of it, and it is true to life: the real Middle Ages instead of the one that is usually shown, the conventional Middle Ages, all chic, which is tedious.
Mme Tarnowsky has just left; she is charming when she tells all the little things of country life — the neighbours, the relations.
What a dreadful bourgeoise Mme Gavini is! She speaks of the Arts in such a profane way that I shall not go if she speaks of them in front of me again. She cites those Rothschild ladies who paint at home and have masters, and she says that I shall be able to do as much when I am married. In that detached tone of the woman of the world, of the bourgeoise, there is something frightfully brutal that puts every artistic and elevated feeling to shame.
You understand, I am reasoning with myself sensibly and perfectly soundly.
I shall try first to make the marriage of my dreams. If I do not succeed, I shall marry like everyone else, with the help of my dowry. So there I am, at peace;
crossed out[Two lines crossed out]
When marrying, one must remember that it is not a flat one rents by the month but a house one buys. One must find every comfort in it, and one cannot overlook a few missing rooms as one might in rented lodgings; and an old Russian tradition says that annexes bring bad luck.