Friday, 26 March 1880

I have nothing to do, I am resting, and now the troubles begin. First, that idiot Soutzo gave my name, and with Lepic they put in L'Evenement: "Speaking of painters, a young lady, Mlle de Bashkirseff, who signs Mlle Russ, has sent to the Salon a painting with this legend: The Question of Divorce. Mlle de Russ is only nineteen years old. A bit young to compete with Alfred Naquet and Father Didon!" It is stupid, very stupid.
Pelikan, who is going to Nice, has arrived from Petersburg and will spend five days with us. Could this be the traveler announced?
I go to see Mme Gavini in my new dark green outfit, which causes a sensation. At my milliner's there were at least twenty ladies who did nothing but look at me and sent the shopkeeper to find out who had made me such a marvel.
Then to the Bois; it was deadly dull... This morning we already went to church, and this evening we made confession to take communion tomorrow.
Our priest hears confession like an angel -- that is to say, like a man of sense: a few words and it is finished. Besides, you know my ideas on that subject. I should already have died of despair if I did not believe in God, but on the other hand, the formulas and legends leave me cold.