Monday, 14 May 1883

The first hot day.
The Maréchale Canrobert and her daughter have been here. The Maréchale is exquisitely kind to us; she wants to take me to the ball this evening, and then to take Maman’s place while she is away, to shake me up, amuse me, take me out. Really, I am not used to so much kindness. And then I am flattered to go out with the Maréchale Canrobert and to be the friend of her daughter, whom she leaves at my house for whole afternoons. So people do not say as much ill of me as I think?
Will Bastien not come of his own accord soon? Last time he already came almost of his own accord, having received a conditional and indirect invitation only that morning… He thinks ill of me, people tell him things; he does not look on me as his brother does; he is distrustful—
Mme Gavini came, old Géry, and Ducros, the journalist-poet who dined here… the other evening.
And the Maréchale is coming to fetch me for Mme de Vatry’s ball. I had made up my mind to go out of vanity, ill as I am, and now the dress, tried on six times, turns out a monstrosity! We had to invent a story about a lost letter. All the same… It is very tiresome! But on the other hand, to go out of sorts, only to be in a foul temper and consequently ugly!…