Saturday, 2 October 1880

Saint-Amand came.
A lady (a fellow student) whose portrait I am to paint pays for it by posing for a hand study. Tony was adorable — he was about to correct the Jewish student's work when he caught sight of my hands.
"Who did this?"
"It is I, Monsieur." "It is very true, very true, very true" — then, after looking at the study once more, he said again:
"It is very true, very true, very true" — and after a fresh sitting: "It is very true."
He looked agreeably surprised — and imagine my joy! At last he sat down in my place and gave me a lesson.
"It is a good study; you must do others like it — there are charming tones here." I underline that, because of the fellow students who, not knowing what else to say, denied me any ability in colour.
"Unfortunately it is not quite perfectly drawn, but in the second study that will not happen again — I am sure of it. This finger is too long; that is a mistake one does not make twice. On the whole it is good — there is something good, there is something good." No! I was red and pale at once. Besides — one must see the importance attributed to me at the studio. I am the strongest, and things go so far that I speak almost with unction, like Cassagnac. But do not fear that such triumphs will go to my head.
All the Kaverines dined here and have just left for the theatre with my aunt.
I am happy about my painting, and in general I am better.
These hands are painted on a size-6 canvas: the left resting flat on the table; the right holding a pen as if having just paused to re-read. I explain myself poorly, but you understand.
Amélie is not pleased, but what annoys me is that she copies me in everything she can.
Studio childishness. No — joking aside, I sense that things are going better in my painting.
Gabriel took so long to send the little gifts because my parcel played truant — was opened by his father and finally sent on to the son.