[A-] all in tears and low – said I left her so much – said
this on my telling her I was going to Princess R[adzivill]. A sort of scene and
talk as usual on these occasions – she promised to try to exert herself, but
what melancholy miserable work it is.
Seven examinations by three different accoucheurs who all
agreed there was no organic disease.
The Emperor had behaved beautifully. He and the Empress and
she being all together – he owned that much as he preferred the Empress to all
other woman. Yet, that had Princess R[adzivill] made any effort to win him, he
was homme and could not have answered for himself – but she had not – and in
short, there was a scene and they all three cried – wept. And all was beautiful
but still the Empress had at times been jealous and then got over it. R- went to
Odessa because the Empress wanted her to promise if she could not go, to remain
at Saint Petersburg the eight months till the court returned. No, R- would
return home and stay there if she was not well enough to go to Odessa, but she
did go – she consulted nobody but her physician – as a friend did not even tell
her sister at Saint P[etersburg] for fear of her writing to her parents and
distressing them. The physician told her to go, saying it was kill or cure, but
in such a case to go honour – reputation at stake. It was envy – all
scandalized her but she believed the people here now did her justice. She had
many offers, but she knew it was that they wanted favour – all told R- such
stories to prevent his marrying her but she herself explained and he relived
her perfect innocence. So much chagrin had been too much for her. Poor thing, I
expressed my own belief and admiration and she kissed me affectionately on my
Meant to write but A- came. Long talk till after twelve –
what miserable work. How shall I endure it? I must manage her better or we
cannot go on together – I feel as if it would be heaven to be without her.
Copies of letters to Mr’s Grey, Harper and Mackean.
I am getting dead tired of this place and long to be off.
[With Princess Radzivill] A complaint in the navel began at
nine years old. Never such good friends. I said if she durst trust me, I would
do all I could – yes, she believed all I said – liked me from the first, scarce
knowing why. Used to fear I should be off – ended at sending for me every night
but could not help it – should not have done so in another case nor, said I,
should I have gone every night to anyone else. A mutual profession of amity. Sometimes
she thought she would and then that she would not write her case for me to send
to Doctor B[elcombe], she had no faith in Doctor S-. Never expected to be cured.
I bade her not despair but hope and try once again if Doctor B- thought he
could be of use to her – agreed that I am to go to her at one tomorrow.
I finished the rough draft of my letter to Mr Mackean. A- has
taken a thorough dislike to Count P[anin] since Wednesday last – vide – she
stayed in the room but never uttered.
She has her règle – her cousin – said the old lady Madame Apraxine.
I said to favour Mr Meyer the music master – I said nothing, but it struck me
last night that she looked sweet as she sat over the piano while he played.
Then A- seeming not quite satisfied with her letter to Mr Adam – having ordered all her rents after paying expenses to be paid over to the York Share District Bank to my account – both this Christmas and next midsummer. If she did not, in the meantime, order otherwise. We had another talk. I said I had made up my mind – she should leave me for I really could not manage her. She got frightened, I think, at the thought of being without me and promised to do better and go do all I wished. In fact, I had hardly slept last night – my mind being seriously intent on helping her to get rid of me as well as I could. Advised her lying down, which she did at twelve and a quarter – I wrapped her up and then [wrote till 1240]. I had given up the thought of our journey and meant to go home. Now all this is reversed, and we are really to go onwards. What ups and downs. How will it all end? She will never resolve to leave me?
Incurred a cross last night thinking of M-.
[A-] terrible. At last I calmly planned her leaving me on her
aunt’s death, but to stay a year or so till we had replaced the eleven hundred navigation
money. Showed her she could not do well without me but said I would help her –
she said she was miserable between the thought of not doing enough for the
estate and parting with me. Poor thing, when she saw me so calmly advising her
how to get rid of me, she roused up – said she really would exert herself and
did, in fact, look quite cheerful and right at dinner.
They pay a hundred and fifty thousand roubles a year law and
agency expenses. It seems the estate is fettered by mortgages and they cannot
get it freed. And they take one hundred thousand to spend and when apart, she
takes five thousand a month and he four, ditto. I said she could live for a
hundred and fifty pounds a month – two thousand five hundred roubles – at York,
but twice that too little for London. It appears they are not too well off at
present and these proceedings are not likely to terminate.
About twenty minutes in bed with A-. She promised this
afternoon to exert herself – she will never keep her promise. How terrible it
is – I am almost at my wit’s end.
Tiresome nonsense about her leaving me – what she would do – Jane Chapman and go to Paris etc – Barèges [all] over again. Then, with her rousing and cheering her half hour longer.
Poor A- said nothing but we had [a] scene the moment he was
gone, such as at Barèges, about being styled as my niece – not acknowledged
etc. I said what melancholy folly it was that I really could not stand it – I
would not leave her, but she might leave me, and we had best go home. She cried
her eyes up, but at last was sorry – saying she would rather die on the road
than be left here and could never bear to see Count P[anin] again but be glad
to leave here tomorrow if she could. These things are now become too common to
have the force of novelty. I must do as well as I can – the best I can – but
what that will be, time alone can tell.
In bed with her, quiet.
Calculated for her, she being frightened at first of asking
so much – made some little additions to her letter to Mr Adam and completed her
copy of letter to Booth till about .
She is taking sarsaparilla and seems better for it.
[A-] low about writing the
letter I have copied for her to Mr Adam – afraid of our going wrong spending
too much etc – undecided. She ought to have nothing to do with affairs and
decisions. I must try to manage this – decide all, order all – as much as I can
without consulting her more than can possibly be avoided.
I wore the second bought cap.
I did not much like the company when Countess P[anin] was
gone. It is said she, do you know, [is] a gymnast and he is the director, and I
suppose the scholar’s act – somehow, I did not much like the style.