29 September 1873 – 5 October 1873

We went with Paul to a secluded part of the garden to shoot. My hands trembled a little when, for the first time in my life, I took a loaded gun, especially because Mamma was so frightened. I chose a pumpkin twenty paces away for a target, and shot capitally. The whole charge was in the pumpkin. The second time I fired at a piece of paper twenty centimetres square, again I hit, and a third time a leaf. Then I grew very proud and smiling. All fear disappeared and it seems as if I had courage enough to go to war. I carried the pumpkin, the paper, and the leaf in triumph to show to Mamma, who is very proud of me. Really, what harm is there in shooting? I need not become on that account one of those detestable men-women with spectacles, masculine coats, and canes. To fire a gun will not prevent my being gentle, lovable, graceful, slender, vaporous (if I may use the word), and pretty. While shooting I am a man; in the water a fish; on horseback a jockey; in a carriage a young girl; at an evening entertainment a charming woman; at a ball a dancer; at a concert a nightingale with notes extra low and high like a violin. I have something in my throat which penetrates the soul, and makes the heart leap. Seeing me with the gun, no one would imagine I could be indolent and languishing at home. Yet, sometimes, when I undress in the evening, I put on a long black cloak which half covers me and sit down in an armchair. I seem so weak, so graceful (which I am in reality) that again no one would imagine I could shoot. I am a rarity. I shall be highly educated, if God wills that I should live and blesses me. I am perfectly formed, my face is pretty enough, I have a magnificent voice, intellect, and I shall be, withal, a woman. Happy the man who will have me. He will possess the earthly Paradise! Provided that he knows how to appreciate me! I lack everything here, and yet I adore Nice. We always love what does not love. Sic factae sumus. Everywhere else I am visiting, at Nice I am at home, and the proverb says: However well off we may be while visiting, we are better off at home. Nice! Nice! Thou ingrate! I adore Nice and admire it from my window. I am happy and animated. Why? I don't know. After all—Ah! let me alone! The cards tell the truth, I believe in the cards; they have always said yes to me. I must have an occupation, I am of a warlike disposition. I am ready for everything. I ask only an idea. No doubt I shall be depressed to-morrow, for this evening I am certainly on stilts. The tower clock is striking nine. Lovely tower; lovely I! Ah! H——.