Tuesday, 6 February 1883

[Blacked-out words: A Shrove] Tuesday rather dull.
We go to dinner at the Grand Hôtel — my father, Maman, my aunt, Dina, Michel, myself, Saint-Amand, Mme and Mlle Kanchine, Mme and Mlle de Pontblin, the Comte de Laferrière (very, very old), the Marquis de Saint-Maurice, the Engelhardts.
Afterward we go to the Watercolorists' and afterward to the Éden-Théâtre — an immense Hindu-modern hall with promenades, buffet, circus, ballet, bars, orchestra, etc. The ballet Excelsior with its Italian dancers is a marvel. Never has theatrical staging attained such splendours.
There Tony and Engelhardt join us, and that is all.