Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 26 June 1880

Tony was very kind --- advice, exhortations, encouragement; my portrait is not bad at all, the hair is good. At last!
I am twenty-one years old and this morning I found a white hair, and I am blonde.
Madame Boyd invites Mme Bashkirtseff to a matinee today. Upon receiving this card, I write to Berthe to ask what will be there and why an invitation to Maman while (a line and a half cancelled) I am alone with my aunt. Berthe replies that her mother thought Maman had returned and was inviting me along with her, but had not invited my aunt as she did not know her. First of all, this is not true: they were introduced two years ago, they have not seen each other since, but they know each other; and besides, it means nothing since many people have been invited whom Berthe alone knew.
Under these conditions, I do not wish to go, but Mme Gavini arrives and is cross because I made her get dressed up for nothing. Annoyed, tormented, displeased, vexed, pitiful, I go. You see, these are the things that diminish one. I was received as usual; Lord Paget, the son-in-law of Mme Boyd, who has recently inherited the title of Marquis of Anglesey and several million in income, stood in the first salon beside his new wife (the marriage took place at three o'clock at the embassy). The very beautiful Mme Woodhouse, a large and very distinguished crowd. Mme Woodhouse is from the highest society in London. Madame Gavini finds acquaintances and tells me that it must be quite grand for Mme de Rothschild (Adolphe) to trouble herself to come. As for acquaintances, the Martelets, Fargman --- I no longer recall.
I am not pleased to have gone; it is because of Gavini... who annoys me. The boxes and the little gifts... a friendship of whim, of fancy --- I have had enough of that. This friendship weighs on me... all the more so because this lady does not seem entirely reliable, and she has not been useful to me in Parisian society. She takes me to the Opera in a grand box, we take her to the Bois. She introduces her regulars: former prefects, or other ousted Bonapartists, or young men like Multedo... in terms of men it is tolerable... not great, but name me a single salon whose doors she has opened for me. None. It is the Baroness de Poilly who is a true friend; she has done everything in the world for Mme de Benardaki, and if she has not succeeded, it is because Benardaki is truly too beautiful. And the Audiffrets --- they too owe almost everything to Mme de Poilly, and Mme de Poilly is well-established, very rich, and does it out of kindness. Those Audiffrets will always make my blood boil.
In the evening at the circus, it vexes me --- it is not boredom, it is vexation one must say --- with Saint-Amand and Cerny. All those cocottes. It is sordid. But it amuses my aunt; the poor woman has not been too happy as it is, so that I should deprive her of these rare and utterly childish pleasures like the circus or the Bois. The other day I wanted to go home early and she would have liked to walk a while longer; I insisted, but afterward I felt bad about it.
Saint-Amand sees us home, comes in with us, and plays the horse, the clown, the gymnast, recites, sings, and bewilders Coco, who barks at each of his sudden movements.
The Gavinis at the exit of the circus.