NEW JOURNAL OF MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF
JANUARY, 1873
(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?