Friday, 25 April 1879

They bring me the Laferrière gown, which is elaborate, new, and ugly. In a few hours I have another arranged for me at Savarre's — not even a proper dress, simply a cloud of tulle; not a flower, not a ribbon, except at the waist.
Yesterday was the Gavinis' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary; I gave them a magnificent gilt silver cup. This evening, before going to the bed, we go to the Opéra — Friday is the elegant evening. There are nine of us, I think, in the Casa-Riera entrecolonne. Madame Gavini in yellow with white lace, pearls and diamonds; Madame Randouin modestly concealed in black — very beautiful; the Vicomtesse Pernety (née Haussmann) in mauve damask and white lace, many diamonds, a bouquet of lilac; Dina in white satin, tulle and white poppies; myself; Messieurs Gavini, Multedo, an unknown gentleman, Casa-Riera and his gentleman companion — everyone ogling our box. Chic.
As for the ball, it was not too mixed, and the best society was there. I encountered acquaintances: Madame d'Araujo, wife of the secretary of the Brazilian embassy — a little bustling person I meet at the Gavinis'; Madame Basilevitch; Madame d'Ermont, whom I knew at the Boyds' and see at Julian's.
The men are numerous — all those I know. The Marquis de Saporta (the spelling?!), the one from the horse show, is paying court to me; when he and Multedo come to sniff each other out... both of them would like to marry. Madame de Lesseps is much remarked upon in her yellow gown with Austrian armorial bearings; the most elegant and the most beautiful all spoke with Madame Gavini; I had a very good view of them all.
But I strolled with Blanc — Antoine! When I saw him approaching I felt myself go quite pale and my heart was beating! I take his arm and say nonsense to him... and as I reproached him for his long absence: take care if you go on like this...
— You will write me terrible things!
— Which sort?
— "Blanc! what have you done with the Hungarian woman?"
— I did not scruple to tell you, I believe...
I do not know how we came to speak of gossip:
— Oh! I know some good ones! he exclaimed.
— Ah! really, tell me — about whom?
— And yours — about whom?
— You first.
— About Paul.
— The director?
— Yes — you know the story of what happened to him?
— Not at all.
— You know whom he married?
— Like everyone else.
— A girl from the... did you not know her in Rome? Her mother was the ... of the cardinal.
— How do you expect me to know that, Blanc?
— Well, he married the girl, and the girl had seen quite a few... things before her marriage.
— Well, well, well — with you?
— No, with others — and with Paul too, so that the poor fellow, once caught up in it... had to marry her afterwards.
— It is quite novelistic. And she is rich, at least?
— 200,000 francs dowry, 20,000 francs trousseau, and there is also talk of 10,000 francs annual income, but I should like to [continued in notebook 85]

Notes

In English in the original.