Friday, 2 February 1883

Grand dinner, very chic, 30 rue Ampère. The Vicomtesse de Janzé, Mme Gavini, Princess Bonaparte de Villeneuve, Comtesse Ducos, MM. Gavini, the Marquis de Villeneuve, Montgomery, Alexis, M. de Morgan, Michel, Baron de Nervo, Carolus Duran.

Bare shoulders, diamonds, flowers. Carolus is always adorable — need it be said; I dine between him and Nervo, who finds me looking well this evening... He has a passion for elegance...

I am in white muslin, supple, soft, draped, with a single braid down the back with a white ribbon. Pale pink shoes, roses at the bodice.

Carolus says he finds me at last as he found me the first time, five years ago — that proud, wilful, radiant child, with more suppleness now and more benevolence... I was insolent, it seems, five years ago; tarnished a year ago; and now in full glory. How kind he is... He is a precious man — it is he [blacked-out words: who animates everyone when we go up to the studio, with his guitar] and his songs, cigarette between his teeth... The little corner under the palm which I have promised myself to make famous is very brilliant this evening; Mmes Randouin, Engelhardt, and the Faleyeffs, MM. Engelhardt, Randouin, Comte Plater, Sautereau come after dinner... Odette sings with Carolus, Montgomery plays the piano... It is elegant and picturesque...

Montgomery is an embassy secretary of thirty-eight to forty, 40,000 francs a year, the most carefully appointed carriage teams in Paris; gives dinners to society ladies... Natural son of an Englishman... His sister married the son of Janvier... The one who was offered to me... He too would like to marry a fortune... Naturally of ordinary mind but a good fellow, and then he flatters me by speaking of my superiority, my talent, art... I see life from above, I want everything to be beautiful, noble, and pure... He says I am right...

Maman and my aunt have beautiful gowns; Dina is magnificent — she has grown thinner, she is radiant, and artists are wild about her almond eyes, her full lips; I want to paint her for the Salon, this Venus de Milo, de Rubens, or rather de Rembrandt...