Tuesday, 4 May 1880

Our Russians at dinner, and also the priest, and also Pelikan, who is stopping here for a month before leaving for Petersburg.
Kiriewsky draws, and I send him to Julian's.
We talk of art, my library, my sketches, my Latin and Greek books. They left astonished, dumbfounded, or delighted — I was not at my best. Tired, I dined in my work clothes: a long black dress and a ruffled blouse.
The nose in Amelie's portrait is crooked.
By the way, the other day Julian arrived (this is Mademoiselle de Villevieille's account) and scolded because there are too many old canvases cluttering the atelier. Each student has the right to only two, but the rule is only enforced on occasion — and when Julian swipes the studies he likes.
So he arrives, scolds about the canvases, and seeing one on the back of which Amelie's name blazes, he calls out to the young artist, then turns the canvas over and looks at it:
"This time you are worthy of pardon, for this is very good — it has been scraped, but the drawing that remains is very good. You have never done anything like this... but is it you? Is it not Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff?"
"Indeed, Monsieur, she gave me her old canvas — I shall paint over it..."
"Ah! So it is by Mademoiselle Marie — then it does not surprise me," etc. etc.
I was absent...
But two days later we meet in the antechamber, and he asks me why I scraped the paint off such a good drawing and begs me to give it to him. Naturally, I am happy to give it, only I have already given it to Amelie — so old Julian calls the aforesaid Amelie and offers her a new canvas in exchange for my old one.
Naturally, she hastened to place everything at his disposal and refused the new canvas — the height of generosity.
But the poor girl cannot have been pleased.
Berthe came to tell me that Monsieur So-and-So told her he would get me a medal, but that unfortunately my painting is not finished enough, not painted enough — but that I may count on an honorable mention.
However improbable this may seem, it is nonetheless charming to the ear, and however the reward might come to me, I would be mad with joy — for if I do not deserve it now, I shall deserve it soon, and besides, it would help me rise. In an instant I forgive Berthe everything, and for five minutes I love her with true friendship.
Yesterday, Soutzo — unable to give me tickets to the Chamber (I had asked him knowing there were none left) — sent me a cherry tree full of ripe and very good cherries.
That is a pretty gift — fruit one picks oneself has a special taste, and besides, with the wood I shall make myself a parasol.