Saturday, 8 November 1879

I have finished the portrait of the concierge. She is very like. There is immense joy in the porter's lodge, daughter, son-in-law, little girls, sisters, all are in raptures.
Unfortunately Tony did not share this enthusiasm. He began by saying it is not bad and then... It is not going as well as it should, it is incontestable that I am not gifted to the same degree for painting as for drawing. Drawing, construction, form, all that comes naturally. The painterly side is not developing fast enough. He does not want me to waste my time like this.
One must get out of it, one must do something about it. You are floundering, that is evident, and as you are extremely gifted, as you have very great aptitudes, it annoys me.
— It does not amuse me either, Monsieur, but I do not know what to do about it.
— I have wanted to discuss this with you for a long time. One must try every means, perhaps it is only a matter of opening a door.
— Tell me what must be done, a copy, a plaster cast, a still life, I will do everything you order me.
— You will do everything I tell you to do, well then we are certain to get through this. Come see me next Saturday and we will discuss it, until then I will concern myself with you, perhaps I will find something for you.
I should have gone there on a Saturday long ago. All his students do. In short, he is a good fellow.
At one o'clock M. de Morgan came to fetch us to take us to M. de Saint-Marceaux.
Let me not forget to tell you that we talked with Tony in the small plaster room where there were only two good souls almost foreign to the gossip of the establishment.
Saint-Marceaux did not recognize me, Maman and I have black velvet dresses, or else he pretended not to recognize me since I said nothing and even when he asked me if I did painting I replied that I loved the Arts without cultivating them. He is a true artist while being a man of the world (a point on which M. de Morgan always insists as if to excuse Saint-Marceaux for being an artist, "good family, great fortune") a fine head though bald. Superb eyes and in his whole person something lively as in Gabriel only older with something touching like a sorrow or a sadness. Small in stature but wiry and with aristocratic feet.
He has a poodle, white mice...
No affectation for example, nothing of Carolus-Duran. We are very amiable and invite him to come to our house.
Julian is very pleased with my compositions, so am I. If I painted as I draw and compose I would be a great artist. Few visits. De Tarente, Turquan, Mme Gavini and Chaudordy.