Saturday, 2 July 1881

Micha is sometimes here, sometimes at his estate two hours away. His presence being unremarkable, I shall indicate neither his departures nor his returns.
My two uncles Etienne and Wladimir are here. Wladimir has a very amusing talent for imitation.
The rain had interrupted my work; with Micha there pestering me, I put my coat and large hat on him and so disguised he mounted a horse and galloped past the windows. Maman, knowing perfectly well that I am capable of riding like a man and in a dressing-gown, was enormously alarmed — everyone was taken in for a moment. And that is all. I am always horribly persecuted — always out of love, it appears. It is warm, we are in full summer, and Dina hides herself to bathe in the river for fear of giving me the idea. Then Maman, without appearing to, is displeased when Nini and Dina walk after dinner lest I should walk too. Then milk is offered to me like a medicine the whole time, whereas I would gladly take some as a pleasure if they did not pester me so.
In short — this evening the night is divine: a new moon, a fragrant air, all the doors open. I go to look out through the balcony door and Maman immediately cries that I must not go outside — I went out deliberately, still hoping to cure her of this habit of beating me down like a galley slave. And everyone joins the persecution: poor Sperandio brings a cloak; Wladimir rushes up with a glass of milk; Nini invents stratagems to protect me without irritating me. How cheerful it is at my age to be such an exception — treated as an invalid and a hysteric. It is enough to make one weep. And the quarter-hour of rage that these excellent creatures cause me does me more harm than a walk on a late-June evening, certainly! And then these ridiculous scenes in front of everyone.
[fragment] ...to pray to God, and before leaving, to make a pilgrimage — there is a miraculous Virgin nearby. You will understand that I do not imagine this image more capable of working miracles than any other, but [words blacked out: one goes there] praying greatly, and God hears you.
Then after the 20th [words blacked out: we] shall travel to Italy. This year I preferred Patti — but next year I shall travel. Princess Eristoff, myself, Dina, Paul and Nini. No parents. Oh! No, no, no...
Can you imagine me of an evening on the balcony, a serenade, the moon, etc... And the dear parents shouting nonsense — no! And then it would be endless worry.
How Gabriel resembles the perfect heroes. Physically he very much resembles La Môle from La Reine Margot and in character the Vicomte de Bragelonne — too virtuous, too utterly good, that is to say, in short.
Is it then possible that Cassagnac is the true love of my life? For four years I have thought of no other — or rather, above all, I have never ceased to think of him. I could even say five years — that is, always, setting aside the shameful madness over Larderei.

Notes

Adelina Patti (1843–1919): the greatest soprano of her generation, who gave celebrated concert seasons in Paris in 1881. Marie chose to attend her performances rather than travel to Italy.
La Môle: Joseph-Boniface de La Môle, the romantic hero of Alexandre Dumas's La Reine Margot (1845). The Vicomte de Bragelonne is the young hero of Dumas's Le Vicomte de Bragelonne (1847–50). Both are ideal types of noble, gallant young men — which makes them, in Marie's view, slightly tedious.