Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Monday, 24 May 1880

It is nine o'clock in the evening, and I am nervous because Casimir has not come. Perhaps he was offended on Saturday. At dinner, in front of Anitchkoff, I told him quite seriously that I found it strange, these ways of arriving at dinner time, that this house was not a restaurant and that he was at my aunt's and not at mine — that I would no longer receive him. But it was only at the circus that he became angry. On the way back in the carriage, I asked him for details about an amusing duel to send to the newspaper En Avant, which is soliciting my collaboration through Gavini.
"This evening is impossible," he said. "I am going to the Franckensteins'."
So I said goodnight to him curtly at the door, without extending my hand. Well! What can one do? One must accept it. That is easier to write than to do.
The Juvisys are receiving this evening; I shall no doubt find him there, as well as Mme de Bailleul and the Audiffrets. I do not know if I should go — one must not chase after one's bad luck, one must not pursue...
Ah! How vexing...
If he is offended, all is well, but if without anger he does so willingly without me... It is very vexing. My nerves are like violin strings.
Yesterday evening it was only with reinforcement of literature that I was able to fall asleep, from sheer fatigue. At midnight I relit the lamp. And this evening I wonder if I should go out. Come now, imaginary readers, what to do?? Go to bed early and work tomorrow from eight o'clock. That would be wise!! But I told my aunt we would go this evening to the Baroness Reille's. I do not want to see people... like this... I should like to leave; I have had enough of all these troubles.
I went. Naturally Mme Reille is no longer receiving this year, so we go over there. Only, while going I wanted to turn back and go to bed, for I was going because of Soutzo — but if I turned back... halfway it would have been for the same reason; so both were bad. I enter with my aunt. They are playing baccarat: old Mme Bailleul, Mme Audiffret with her daughter Marie, two other old women; Messrs. d'Astafort, Verdier (the fat singer), Alberic Second, and Soutzo, naturally. Justice must be done to the latter: he divided himself equitably between the two young girls — Marie Audiffret and Marie the fool, myself.
The little one has my dressmaker, and I recognize my style of dress — but badly worn and not looking the same as on me.
I begin by asking Soutzo if this salon is respectable; he grimaces.
He had warned us long ago not to frequent the Juvisys, but I reply that, considering him a liar, I wanted to make sure for myself.
Naturally I look shocked. They caterwaul, and little Audiffret, quite pretty, plays very badly a waltz by Chopin. I applaud everyone. "No! But how you look as if you're making fun of everyone!" Soutzo whispers to me. "Ah, but no one notices; they swallow everything."
I am diminished by having come here. God knows for whom and why.
I take care not to criticize the girl; on the contrary, I call her a good little thing and say she is pretty — but adding... almost nothing that puts her in her place. In short, this mediocre creature Soutzo can think what he likes; I presented her to him nicely... but as was fitting.
"Shall I accompany you?"
"Yes."
But a jam of three carriages means we wait for him to put the ladies in their carriage. I waited — that is certain.
"If I had known you had a carriage, I would have said no. I only accepted believing you had to return on foot."
On the way back I mock the evening outright, and Soutzo plays the indignant — he warned us. But I have a stupid system, that of going "to see," which will lead me too far, etc.
Yet I committed a great blunder in asking how Mme Audiffret has fallen so low — the Audiffrets in Nice saw the best society. Then (already at our house) Soutzo tells me the woman is very clever and that she has in Paris some very good connections, that he has seen at her house Mme de Bonneval, etc. — not to mention official circles, ambassadors, etc. etc.
My rage cannot be increased.
We were speaking of Rouzat, whom Mme de Bailleul tried to marry to — Oh! But Rouzat, I said, will only marry a dowry.
"Evidently," said Soutzo.
"But yes," said my aunt.
He tried here, but I replied to the person that if Rouzat were seriously offered to me, I would be capable of slapping the impertinent fellow. (This is authentic.) Oh! Rouzat — to offer me Rouzat! I would rather have God knows whom, anyone — look here... You! rather than Rouzat. That says it all, does it not!
That perhaps redeems the great blunder, but no matter — I am becoming too stupid... But no, it was always the same thing.
Only if one of these days they find me dead in my bed, know that it will be from rage at being so stupidly, so pettily humiliated.
I, I, to suffer because I cannot go see respectable people. Do you think men do not do half of what they do out of self-regard?
Is it not pitiful, is it not dreadful, is it not cruel?
To Maman: "Do not let yourself be swindled by Bashkirtseff, and if you enrage me over my affairs, I shall arrange them as I can by dashing my brains out and saying it was you. For a long time I have been promising you this treat, and you no longer believe in it, but listen to this — I swear to you on all you have made me suffer that I am telling the truth... I have sworn to myself to wait until my majority, and if nothing has changed, to kill myself. (It's a joke.)
Make what profit you can of it, and may the plague choke me this instant if the existence you make for me is not more atrocious than the galleys or eternal prison."