Tuesday, June 30, 2009

June 2, 1779


I had the opportunity today to meet Adrienne’s two daughters; Emiline, who is 13, and Bethanie-Marie, who is 11. I know she has also a son, Charles, but he was not with them, and is very much younger than the girls. They have a common kind of prettiness about them, though it remains to be seen how they may blossom into womanhood. Seeing them I felt both maternal and also old. I am reminded of my half-brothers; Andre and Matthieu. Maman tells me that Andre may soon be married, but she has been saying that for years; I think the only difference is that she approves of his latest interest.
Matthieu is so much older now than I wish him to be, nearly a man himself at thirteen. Mother intends him for the church, I think, but he has always had an inclination for music that I hope may do him some good. Twice married now, Maman has little else to occupy her time it seems than to devise futures for us all.

Much of the day was spent on that irritating play, which we are now calling “The School for Brides” after Moliere’s “School for Wives”. I never cared for that play, preferring his “Tartuffe” above all others. It is all old in any case; a new formula is needed, but I am alone in this opinion, and do not care enough about the result to assert my ideas.

I continue to wait for the arrival of the fashion plates from Paris, which ought to have been sent by now. Hopefully my new chemises have been started, or the whole of my wardrobe will be delayed by it.

I did see Msr. Lamotte today, but found him somewhat less affectionate than I wished. He did at one point brush my cheek with his hand, but only to remove something that should not have been there. I wanted to ascribe much more to that, but could not with any real reason do so. His hand was warm and gentle, as always. I cannot seem to remember what T- is like anymore. Msr. Lamotte left us for town later in the day, and I did not even see him go. I think the anticipation of seeing him again is what currently guides me from day to day, otherwise it is very monotonous.

Sent a letter to Mme le Sang-Boeuf today to try and arrange everything for Paris, but will likely have to wait a while for a response as this is the second letter that I have sent her in two weeks. I hope to take a house in town as Versailles can be very crowded, and if I do not attend the Queen after all, I will need to have accommodations elsewhere, and would prefer that they not be at court. A letter to my dear friend Anne-Marie and one to my estate manager at Opme completed my correspondence for the day.

I wonder if Msr. Lamotte finds this play business as tiring as I do. We could arrange other entertainments for ourselves if so; but that would be a selfish pursuit, and I doubt well-received by the other guests. Marianne seems to be enjoying herself, as she has new gossip for me nearly every day. I should remember to ask her if she is in need of new clothing for our trip to Paris. Doubtless she will say yes whether she does or not, and I may order a few new caracos and a quilted cape for her. Probably some shoes as well. I need to remember to ask about a calash for me. I may take Nanette’s daughter with me, as I will need another maid and I don’t think she has ever left Auvergne before.

My mind wanders tonight, and I am in a mood to paint, but shall save that for tomorrow when the light is better. I also miss my harp at home, but I’m sure that desire will pass as it usually does even when I am there to play it.
Olympe, Comtesse

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