Sunday, 6 June 1880

It is pouring.
We go to mass for the Empress. Mme Bernardaki is so beautiful that when I return home I paint her from memory. She is extraordinary — beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. And something languorous in her immense dark-blue eyes. Every man, they say, resembles some animal. This woman looks like a cow, but she is beautiful!
The Gavinis were with us. Casimir was at church.
Quite a fine drive back from the Races, despite the rain. But one does not mind the rain on Grand Prix day.
In the evening Antoine came, and to avoid conversation I played cards with him.
Yesterday we met the Engelhardts, and she invited us to come and see her.