(_Marie was then twelve years old_.)
I must tell you that ever since Baden I have thought of nothing
except the Duc de H----. In the afternoon I studied. I did not go
out except for half an hour on the terrace. I am very unhappy
to-day. I am in a terrible state of mind; if this keeps on, I don't
know what will become of me.
How fortunate people who have no secrets are!
Oh, God, in mercy save me!
The face makes very little difference! People can't love just on
account of the face. Of course it does a great deal, but when there
is nothing else--. They have been talking about B----. He has
exactly my disposition. I am fond of society; he likes to flirt; he
likes to see and to be seen; in short, he is pleased with the same
things that please me. They say he is a gambler. Oh! dear! What evil
genius has changed him!
Perhaps he is in love--hopelessly?
Happy love ought to make us better, but hopeless love! Oh, I believe
it must be that!
No, no, he is simply dragged down like so many young men by that
terrible gulf. Oh, what an accursed place! How many wretched beings
it has made! Oh, fly from it! Take your sons, your husbands, your
brothers away from there, or they are lost. B---- is beginning. The
Duc de H---- has begun, too, and he will go on, while he might live
happily. Live and be useful to society. But he spends his time with
wicked men and women. He can do it as long as he has anything, and
he used to be immensely rich.
Dr. V---- has said that Mademoiselle C----[A] is ill, that she may
live five years or die in three weeks, because she is consumptive.
How many misfortunes at once!
[Footnote A: Marie Bashkirtseff's governess.]
If, when I am grown up, I should marry B---- what a life it would
be! To stay all alone, that is, surrounded by commonplace men, who
will want to flirt with me, and be carried away by the whirl of
pleasure. I dream of and wish for all these things, but with a
husband I love and who loves me--.
Ah, who would suppose it was little Marie, a girl scarcely twelve
years old; who feels all this! But what am I saying? What a dismal
thought! I don't even know him, and am already marrying him--how
silly I am!
I am really much vexed about all this. I am calmer now. My
handwriting shows it. The spontaneous burst of indignation is a
little quieted. It is soothing to write or communicate one's ideas
to somebody.
B---- isn't worth while. I shall never marry him. If he begs me on
his knees, I shall be--oh, I forgot the word--I shall be firm. No,
that isn't the word, but I know what I mean. Yet if he loves me very
much, very deeply, if he cannot live without me--vain phrases! Do
not let us meet. I don't wish to be weak.
I am firm, I will be resolute. I mean to have the Duc de H----. I
love him at least. His dissipated life may be forgiven him. But the
other--no!
While writing I was interrupted by a noise. I thought some one was
going to surprise me. Even if what I have written were not seen, I
should blush all the same. Everything I wrote previously now seems
nonsense. Yet it is really exactly what I felt. I am calm now. Later
I will read it over again. That will bring back the past.
I love the Duc de H---- and I cannot tell him so. Even if I did, he
would pay no attention to it. O, God! I pray Thee! When he was here,
I had an object in going out, in dressing. But now! I went to the
terrace hoping to see him in the distance for at least a second.
O God, relieve my suffering! I can pray to Thee no more. Hear my
petition. Thy mercy is so infinite. Thy grace is so great, Thou hast
done so many things for me! Thou hast bestowed so many blessings
upon me. Thou alone canst inspire him with love for me!
Oh, dear! I imagine him dead, and that nothing can draw him nearer
to me. What a terrible thought! I have tears in my eyes, and still
more in my heart. I am weeping. If I did not love him I might
console myself. He would suit me for a husband in every respect. I
love him, and that is what makes me suffer. Take away this anguish,
and I shall be a thousand times more miserable. My grief makes my
happiness. I live solely for that. All my thoughts, everything is
centred there. The Duc de H---- is my all. I love him so much! It is
a very old-fashioned phrase, since people no longer love. Women love
men for money, and men love women because they are the fashion or on
account of their surroundings.
I could not say, "On such or such a day I met a young man whom I
liked." I do not know when I noticed him. I cannot even understand
these feelings, I cannot find expressions. I will only say, "I do
not know when, I do not know how this love has come. It came because
it probably had to come." I should like to define this, yet I
cannot.
Now, if he were paying me attention, he would think he was doing me
honour, but then I should make him see that it is I who honour him
by marrying him, because I am giving up all my glory. Yet what
happiness can be greater: To have everything--to be a child
worshipped by its parents, petted, having all a child can have. Then
to be known, admired, sought by the whole world, and have glory and
triumph every time one sings. And at last to become a duchess, and
to have the duke whom I have loved a long while, and be received
and admired by everybody. To be rich on my own account and through
my husband; to be able to say that I am not a plebeian by birth,
like all the celebrities--that is the life, that is the happiness I
desire. If I can become his wife without being a cantatrice, I shall
be equally well pleased, but I believe that is the only way I shall
be able to attract him.
Oh, if that could be! My God! Thou hast made me find in what way I
shall be able to obtain what I ask. Oh! Lord! Aid me, I place all my
hopes in Thee. Thou alone canst do all things, canst render me
happy. Thou hast made me understand that it is through my voice I
can obtain what I seek. Then it is upon my voice that I must fix all
my thoughts, I must cultivate, watch, and guard it. I swear to
Thee, O Lord, no longer to sing or scream as I used to do.
On leaving the H----'s, I was wrapped in an ermine cloak. I thought
I looked very well. If I became a duchess, a cloak like that would
suit me. I am growing too presumptuous. Because I put on an ermine
cloak, I imagine that I am a queen.
Monday, our day. We have plenty of callers. I went in only a minute
to ask Mamma something, in my character of a little girl. Before
entering I looked at myself in the mirror hanging there: I was
good-looking, rosy, fair, pretty.
Suppose I should write everything I think and everything I intend to
do when I grow up, everything I mean to forget, and everything that
is extraordinary? A dinner service of transparent glass. On one side
a certain costume and arrangement of the hair; on the other side a
different costume and a different arrangement of the hair, so that
on one side I shall be one person, and on the other side another. To
give a dinner by letters. I have determined to end this book, for
extravagant ideas rarely come to me in these days.
March 14th, 1873.
I saw Madame V---- on the Promenade. I was so glad, not on her own
account--yes, a little, but because all these people remind me of
Baden.
There I could see the Duc, because he spent nearly all his time out
of doors, but it did me no good, for I was a child. If I could be at
Baden _now_ for a summer! O, dear! When I think that Grandpapa made
his acquaintance in a shop. If I could have foreseen, I should have
continued that acquaintance.
I think only of him, I pray God to keep every trouble from him,
protect, preserve him from every danger.
All this time people talk about the Duc de H---- and it pleases me
immensely, if I don't blush.
At last I can enjoy some bright weather on the Promenade. I have
seen everybody, and I am happy. An hour driving, then walking, but
the rain surprised us.
In the evening we went to the theatre, which was filled with
fashionable people. The W----'s were next to us. I talked about the
springs, horses, etc. To-day I have been reflecting. Not a moment
must be lost, every instant must be spent in study. Sometimes (I am
ashamed to confess it) I hurry through my lessons without
understanding them, in order to finish more quickly, and I am glad
when lessons are given me to review because, during the following
days, I shall have less to do.
I don't intend to behave so any longer. I must finish what I am
learning quickly, that I may begin serious studies, like those of
men, and occupy myself more with music, commence lessons on the harp
and singing. These are great plans. They are sensible ones, too. Are
they not?
March 30th, 1873.
I have been dreaming of the Duc de H----. He wore three jackets of
the queerest cut, and was at our house to look at my pictures. He
admired them, and I talked with him. I was very much agitated, and
could scarcely conceal it. He talked with me very pleasantly, and
spoke of B----. He said:
"I was talking with her. I made her sit down and I spoke of you."
Oh! he talked to her about me, and it was on my account that he
spoke to her! How happy I am! At last my prayer is granted! Then he
brought some kind of paper or something, I don't know exactly what,
to ask for an address to get clothes, I believe. He was in the large
drawing-room, talked to me in low tones, encouraged me by his frank
manners, then I saw mountains on the pictures at which he was
looking. It is strange that I felt nothing extraordinary, and I was
less excited than when I am awake.