Sunday, July 18:
R. rose late, is tired from yesterday. But he works. The children to church. I with the youngest ones. R. sends me the sketches which he has completed.
Bathing with the little ones, then from two till ten the Mendès couple. She gives me a fan which a Chinese, an academician, has inscribed for her and which in the eyes of the Chinese is worth 100,000 francs; in exchange I have to give her a page of R.’s, which has indeed for me a different worth. I found it hard to part with it, though I do not begrudge it to this remarkable woman.
R. regards her and her husband as a real enrichment of our lives, and they are certainly an extraordinary, noble couple. Unfortunately both of them seem in delicate health.