Yesterday was my birthday, but I did not feel much like celebrating. I hosted no party this year, as I, in fact would like to draw as little attention to my age as possible. Somehow it feels as if there is an enormous difference between being twenty-nine and being thirty. Many of the girls that I went to school with have daughters almost of a marriagable age, and I myself am yet to be married. True, my marriage is planned for next year, but I wonder more and more if that was a wise decision; the Marquis de Franconville aux Bois I know now, is not the same as the F- who has been my friend all these years.
I received a note last week from T- which instructed me to dress nicely and be ready at 7 o'clock on the eighteenth and that he would bring a carriage for me. Duly I dressed last night and just before seven a hired carriage arrived with T- inside, who then took me to a private room at l'Hotel Le Meurice where a most sumptuous dinner awaited. I worried throughout the meal as to how much it had cost Thierry, but he forebade me from considering it.
From thence we took the carriage to the Palais-Royal for a special performance of Le Seigneur Beinfaisant. I find myself much more a follower of Gluck, but it was a fine french opera. I was surprised that Thierry was able to acquire tickets, but he said that one of his clients had offered an invitation, and knowing my fondness for opera he was happy to indulge.
After the opera we retired to his rooms and I returned alone to Sully shortly before dawn. A present from F- proved to be a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings, with a kind note saying that they would match my eyes, but it left me far colder than my evening with T-.
Olympe, Comtesse