Monday, 12 January 1880

I go to the studio at eight o'clock and at twenty past eleven find myself before our door at the same time as Gabriel and Courtes. We rehearse for the last time. Everyone is gay, and it would go not badly at all without Courtes, who always finds a way to look as if he finds us stupid.
And God knows if this staff captain is common enough. Well! Soutzo and he stay for lunch, but not Gabriel.
We have a stage, footlights, a backdrop, everything, everything. And a bay opening onto the yellow drawing room seems made on purpose for acting. Plants and flowers everywhere. Toward four o'clock Tarente arrives, and then quite unexpectedly Gabriel, and we stay chatting until five or six o'clock.
You know, we are at daggers drawn with Gabriel; I tell him all the time that he bores me, that I detest him, that he is neither pure nor virtuous, that I was mistaken...
It is rare that things succeed entirely. Well, this rarity took place this evening. Everything succeeded... here is the list of guests; those who were absent are crossed out. [Crossed out: with two crosses]. In sum, there were nearly sixty or seventy people. All the ladies very elegant and almost all pretty. Beauties like Mmes Pernety, Randouin, Goldsmid, Mlle [Poitrineau]. I had on my gauze dress (the one from the Opera the other evening), my hair twisted and pinned rather low but without covering the nape and so as to show the shape of the skull.
The comedy was really well played considering we distributed the roles on Wednesday and had four rehearsals. In rehearsing I hardly acted at all, so it was a sort of revelation this evening. What must be said to my credit is that I have never been less afraid in my life; I feared only one thing, that there would not be enough people. I see, moreover, that the more audience there is, the less one is intimidated; so for composure I had plenty to spare. Oh, but you know, I did not care about my audience; I was playing for myself, and so I was rewarded at certain words, gestures, inflections, by those murmurs and applause one feels to be sincere. They laughed at the funny things. And Soutzo, having become animated toward the end, also got laughs. You know, when he speaks of galleons.
In short, my dear friends, I have revealed myself. Poor Sarah Bernhardt! No, seriously, I managed well, and as Gavini brought me to the drawing room and people complimented me, I responded by exaggerating the praise so as not to seem too foolish!
Plancy leads the cotillion with me. The theater is cleared away in a quarter of an hour, and those who do not dance take refuge in the blue drawing room and in my room.
Only, in the middle of the dances, Berthe commits I know not what rudeness to Blanc; I believe she impolitely refused to accept him in a figure. Blanc immediately goes to find Lancaster and announces to him one of his friends for the next day, and goes to talk with Lahirle, while Berthe, as cowardly as she is stupid, asks to speak to me. I was leading the cotillion! In an instant I am informed and go to find Lahirle and Blanc. Poor me. Dance with everyone so as to offend no one, run the machine, Gabriel leaving the day after tomorrow, and then the duel. You may imagine as you please how I managed.
Lancaster had already spoken with his friend Bertin when Berthe tells me not to tell her husband or Bertin that she had just charged Alexis to go find Blanc and show him these words in her own hand, with the date, on her card, signed: "Dear Prince, I am desolate to have yielded to a moment of thoughtless anger, and I much regret that all this happened because of me. Berthe Lancaster."
It is stupid; it rings false and humiliates her. Meanwhile the cotillion ends, or rather I end it, and we sup at one large table and several small ones. The actors together plus the prompter and the stage manager, plus Mlle Dureau and M. de Plancy and Berthe. As it is only near three o'clock when we finish, we dance again; there are many fewer people; we laugh more. The great success was Bizinsky, who had seated himself cross-legged on the floor like a figurine to prevent the dancers from catching their feet in a split that had formed in the cloth. And M. de Las Cases, each time the figure of the quadrille brought him near this figurine, raised his foot as if afraid of stepping on it, adding afterward: "As for me, I do not know this gentleman." And I take Robert aside to lecture him; he asks nothing better but does not admit it, and will make a pretty scene to his wife when they get home, I am certain. This pretty goose has ideas and then platitudes afterward... I write a letter to Blanc that Alexis will take him tonight, before the seconds arrive. [Words blacked out: always me] And that Lahirle who comes to say: "You understand, Mademoiselle, this concerns you absolutely; I have spoken with Mme Lancaster and she told me that the only person who has influence over her husband is you!"
Well, I hope Blanc will listen to me and be satisfied with the wife's apologies.
At four o'clock only Gery, Mme de Bailleul, and Wodzinsky remain, who has returned from another party after having already been here.
Gery and I flirting in a corner while floundering through the Arnaud affair; Dina had her back to us and was talking with Wodzinsky.
That dear Gabriel, I tell him jokingly all that I really think about it. He is adorable, but I believe he does not flirt because it amuses him; he is obliging and sees that it amuses me. We take tea until five o'clock and then here I am.
All this has changed my impression. Wait, the Krishabers absolutely wanted me to perform "The Spark" at their house. You understand that flatters me. So I was saying yes until three o'clock, imagine that; at the end we wanted to change clothes and go to Les Halles, and then Gabriel proposes that I go help him pack his trunks. What? Yes, yes, all that had erased the impression, which can be summed up in a few words and a sigh through smiles. What a pity that nothing can be made of it!
It is fortunate that he is leaving tomorrow or Wednesday; it could spoil, and until now there has been nothing to regret... It is true that this archangel is so obliging! He laughs because I compare him to the Little Abbe, he who is so tall and has his full beard. It is seven o'clock in the morning... That changes nothing... Gabriel is an angel, but Arnaud is better built than he and has more style, more character, more vigor. Arnaud causes a more violent sensation, more serious, more... stupid perhaps, but which takes your breath away, while Gabriel is the ideal, the charm, distant music during twilight, pure tenderness, low words, something ravishing... a voice in the distance. And without a shadow of ridicule, that is the feat! Besides, he does not realize the effect he produces; he does not pose, and that is the secret.
I would like to know if everyone thinks as I do... many people at least... the others find him simply well-bred and calm. They even go so far as to say he has no fireworks of wit about him. It is evident he will not come to make witty remarks in a drawing room; he does not make a profession of it. [Words blacked out: No. But that would not even suit him; he has wit, I have already said so.] Well, I am smitten with... Arnaud, and with the other too, but differently.