Tuesday, January 11th, 1876.
We did not go out, but the artist Kalorbinski came, and to-morrow the lessons will begin. Monseigneur de Faloux, being unable to go out himself, sent the Chevalier Rossy to bring us a number of pleasant messages. I received him. I have learned a great deal about affairs in the city.
I am very proud of receiving some one myself. It seems like a sovereign's first decree. The Russian priest has come to call on us too. I like the cowled monks in Rome. They are new to me, and that pleases me.
At last I have a teacher of painting; that is something. This evening I see everything in rose-colour, and I am already thinking of a letter in which it will be said of A——: Et eum dicat super malitiosum, improbum, inhonestum, cupidum, luxuriosum, ebriosum! Exactly what Septimus Severus said of Albinus.
If only the winter would pass more quickly. With all my misfortunes, I feel better in Nice, I can give myself up to despair as much as I please. Only last Spring, there was nobody there. The best people gathered around us. P—— was deserted, so were the others. While this Spring there will again be nobody, but P—— will have Miss R——. These ladies, under the leadership of T——, will form a sort of court, like that of the young Princess G—— and Mme. T—— three months since. Both died three months ago.
We shall see. Meanwhile let us study, and try to go into society. Let us pray to God, and amuse ourselves by writing letters.