MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF."

It is the truth, there is not a habitable apartment; where are we?
Can this horrible city be called a capital? We are not in Europe!
Not a house fit to rent. I am discouraged, tired, but I will not
stir before May.

O Rome! I think that we shall take a larger apartment in the hotel,
and stay there. One can breathe only in the Piazza di Spagna. It is
impossible that this is Rome! What a mixture of beautiful
antiquities and modern trash!

Thursday, January 6th, 1876.

B---- has been here again and brought the addresses of some
professors. Then we took a carriage, and Mamma went to the Russian
priest's, the archimandrite Alexander. Being an archimandrite, he is
married, for in our country priests and deacons can be married once.
Mamma says that he is charming. Our embassy makes no show, and has
not even any regular reception day.

This society makes me love Rome. I scarcely regret Nice, the
ungrateful, wicked city.

Sad and irresolute yesterday, I am gay and confident to-day. I have
written to my aunt to send me F----, the ugly little negro will be
very nice to have here.

I have had a good dinner, and spent the evening in reading the
history of Charles the Bold.

I thought, "in my ingenuous candour," that there was no society
except in Nice, but there is a great deal, and even very excellent.

After the drive we went down the Corso, thronged with carriages,
between rows of pedestrians of all classes. D----was among them. Now
that my eyes are opened to see the beauties and antiquities of Rome,
I am growing curious, eager to visit everything. I am no longer
drowsy. I am in a hurry to be everywhere. I want to live at full
speed again. Ah! if only I could!... Again a longing for Nice. The
poorest thing, by resisting, gains worth. Be thoroughly convinced of
this genuine truth. Do not believe that I am stupefied to the point
of not seeing beyond the city of S----; on the contrary, I am more
ambitious than ever. But meanwhile, to spit upon some one who has
spit on us, to give the person a kick, is a pleasure which every
well-born soul can permit itself.

Friday, January 7th, 1876.

Goodness! What prices people ask in Rome! For 1,800 francs one has
only the barest necessaries! At the Hotel de Rome I saw an apartment
so large and so fine that it made my head ache. In France we have no
idea of this grandeur, this ancient majesty. After much searching we
have taken an apartment in the s