Monday, 21 May 1883

I saw Julian; we talked grand medals. Lefèvre and Rochegrosse, and that Tony who wants to marry. It is beyond belief. Every time he comes, it is stories about his loneliness and his wish not to be alone any more, and since I give him thirty-six reasons for not committing himself, he asks me what I offer him instead. He would dearly like someone to offer him something. And I offer him a large picture to paint. I much regret that Dina has not a dowry of three hundred thousand francs. It would be perfect, for Tony is good, honest, well brought up, kind, has a great position in art, a father who is a member of the Institut, is allied to science through Doctor Desmarre and to the solid bourgeoisie. In short, it would do very well. But if he is set on marrying, it is to cash in, alas. Well, he is right, good Tony. It is time to settle down for good; his art cannot suffice for such a bourgeois, so I give him my blessing. Everyone keeps announcing my mention to me, and this promise, just like that, in advance. And what if I were not to get it? And yet, when all these men say yes… and above all the prudent Rodolphe.
Last year they gave second-class medals to things inferior to my picture… And yet…