Saturday, 17 January 1880

A great many people. I slip away for an hour for a fitting at Worth’s. It is M. Jean Worth (the son) who attends to me. He made the costume on me, with twenty-seven women around me and himself on his knees pinning on the roses and draping the crêpe de Chine.
I am dressed as Madame Récamier, in white crêpe de Chine with a peplum trimmed with silver fringe, and running across it all a garland of white roses without leaves.
Such arms, such a neck!! The hair all swept up, a Psyche knot and a crown of white roses tied with a silver ribbon; this silver knot is a marvel, the ribbons seem to take flight. The crêpe draperies reveal a skirt of striped gauze trimmed with heavy fringes that cling to the feet at the slightest movement. The waist, though set just beneath the bosom, is marvellously defined by all these folds of crêpe de Chine that cling to the body. I assure you it is a marvel (price 1,300 francs), all the more so as it is perhaps the only costume in the world that makes me a beauty, a true beauty.
But what a quandary!
To go or not to go? You can never imagine what it is like... Finally, at half past eight, I go to the Gavinis’. Maman is against this ball.
The Gavinis are perfectly informed about our troubles in Nice, and about everything, which makes their friendship all the more precious. But I am dying to go.
Gavini says that in our exceptional situation one must be prudent. “You have no man in the house and you are not connected with the Russian colony here. The slightest thing is important for you.”
Well... Krishaber claims that my cough is purely nervous; it is possible, for I have no cold, no sore throat, no chest pain. I am simply suffocating and have a stitch in my right side. Finally I come home at eleven o’clock and, all the while wishing I might fall gravely ill so as not to go to the ball, I dress. I am beautiful.
We arrive, but from the very antechamber I felt I was entering a house of ill repute. In the first salon we greet Mme Adam, who is most amiable and seems delighted to see us. And then I want to leave. It is like the Opera ball; the women are so ugly, and dressed up like the ones who dance at the Opera. Some are dressed as Pierrots. Mme Adam is very beautiful in a short costume, as a gypsy I believe. But her company! I feel alone, unhappy, out of place, and beg... Maman for us to leave. Alexis and Bojidar come to chat with us where we are keeping out of sight.
But people begin to look at me, just as the dancing stops. Ah! If I had known, I would have put on a wire negro head and come wrapped in a Bedouin cloak. Gaillard comes, but I am too frightened after everything the Gavinis said... besides, really, as for the women, it is a very mixed company. We ask for our carriage, and while waiting for it in the dressing room where I have taken refuge, I simper and make eyes at Alexis!??!
So much beauty wasted. You know, I had caught sight of Hecht and immediately slipped away to the opposite side. That way I shall be able to say that I was not there. I shall say that I dressed but that on reaching the antechamber I thought better of it and we went home again. Perhaps I was wrong not to make a tour of the salons, but really, this company... I did not know where I was, and with my face uncovered. But now I am acquainted with Mme Adam; that is the main thing.
Arnaud sent his card to Alexis on New Year’s Day. And Gabriel claimed he had forgotten!
Gabriel said it to calm me because he is an angel, and in the whole world he alone is honest and good.
O republican education! You know that Multedo recognised me at the Opera ball and that we supped together, he, I, and de Daillens. He never said a word about it to anyone. And Arnaud!
Well, I am beginning to believe that I may perhaps have a chance to justify myself...

Notes

In French in the original: bédouin — a loose hooded cloak of North African style, fashionable in the 1870s. ↩