Sunday, 30 March 1879

We went to fetch Madame Gavini for a drive in the Bois.
My aunt had a fit of joy on seeing little Arnaud, and I flushed scarlet — as in the old days when I fell for names or fortunes, or the faces of young men met on the promenade or at the theatre. You know perfectly well that it has never happened to me to look at a man without knowing who he was — and even if it happens to me one day, I am sure it will be a gentleman. My poor aunt is jubilant, telling herself privately that all my torments are over, that I am going to marry this Prince Charming — and she is happy, for though fairly obtuse, these ladies vaguely sense what I suffer.
As for me — I should be sincerely, naively, truly and profoundly astonished if the smallest agreeable thing were to happen to me.