Tuesday, 19 July 1881

Well, we are still at Sourny. I have bought a sketchbook and am making drawings.
Alexandre proposes a deal to me. He will sell one of the estates for two hundred thousand roubles, and whatever extra he gets will be his. The rents on the other lands will be raised, so that we shall have the same income as now once the estate is sold. There is nothing surprising in that — with the lawsuit hanging over it, the land had been let very cheaply.
Very well — but we shall sell without Alexandre. That man terrifies me; he would take everything.
I play the simpleton, asking questions that appear all the more naive since I do not know the established terms. He laughs at my ignorance. And I am wary while appearing to place absolute trust in him. To begin with: Vichnevka can sell for two hundred and fifty thousand roubles — he said so himself in the first moment — but now that he has this deal in mind, he says I shall be lucky to get two hundred thousand. We shall sell without him. And above all he is convinced I am completely reckless and throw money away without a thought — that one can deceive me, as Vassilissa was devoured here, for all her good manners and her education and her pride.
He draws this little comparison with a laugh, and with his brutal nature treats us in his private mind as spendthrifts and madwomen. He admits all this with such conviction that I am almost shaken myself — he seems to believe we shall sell the estate to fritter it away at the dressmakers.
Besides, all of them here have insane ideas about our life over there — it appears we spend without counting, and that every day I have some extraordinary whim. What does ten thousand francs mean to Marie? She will throw it away in a shop in a single day! etc., etc.
It is irritating enough to be treated as a madwoman — but what is one to do.
Only he will not profit on this estate... Yet he is in league with the current tenant, and the two of them together will contrive to prevent us selling it for the moment.