Sunday, 15 June 1879

The weather is stifling.
I have read four hundred pages and finished the first volume of Monsieur de Loménie on the Mirabeaus, while sitting for Anna Nordgren.
It amuses me as if I... and even when they speak of the Hôtel Mirabeau I smile as though I had just made the acquaintance of a Mirabeau who would be someone modern and interesting.
Madame Gavini came to bring two tickets for tomorrow.
Jeanne’s portrait is done for, since she is obliged to leave. So much the better; I had begun it badly.
First I was told that Cassagnac had taken his wife out to dine, and then that he had not at all, and that he had an adorable new mistress with whom he is madly in love, and who has a very rich husband. This new beauty was unearthed by his former whoever-she-was, Marie Presseq.
The latest news would rather please me; Mirabeau’s vices excuse Popaul’s villainies.
But I must be sensible and prepare myself to hear that Madame de Cassagnac is received. It is bound to happen, and it is wise, I repeat, to persuade myself of it now so as not to rage about it too much afterwards.
For the moment I am sending all my cares packing, and I am quite resolved to work.
Julian is a great man as regards the way he understands the duties incumbent upon me; he says that I must succeed precisely because... We understand each other, kind posterity, do we not?
You must begin next year, as the illustrious Director of the Folies-Julian is forever saying.
Yes, it is agreed, and you shall see, Grandfather Julian, that I have blood in my veins.
In short, you spur me on for the money I bring in and the honour I would bring to the atelier — what does it matter! And besides, whether I work well or badly, you are paid all the same.
You will see! and if I am not dead... My heart is pounding and I am feverish at the thought that I have only a few months left.
I shall work hard, as much as possible, all the time! Tomorrow I shall go to Versailles, but if the only time I miss is for Versailles, it will not be much — at the very most, at the very most, one afternoon a week.
Julian has already noted a respectable recovery in my work; he will see, and I never fail to do my weekly composition. I have an album in which I sketch them out, number them and give them titles, marking the date of each.
With all this I forget to say that I went riding this morning, accompanied by my carriage and the elder Karageorgevitch.