A totally unexpected stroke of luck was in store for me. My aunt, Zoe Zaroudny, who was going to spend a month in the Crimea with her two little daughters, offered to take me with her, promising mamma that I should be well looked after.
We travelled from Sebastopol to Jalta in a mail-coach. It was such a beautiful drive, but seemed all too short. I am not given to sentimental rhapsodies over the beauties of nature, nevertheless, I was very much impressed by the divinely lovely scenery. I had no end of a good time at Jalta and danced a great deal at the military club, making conquests by the dozen. Time flew rapidly and the date fixed for our departure drew near; it was a great misfortune for me that our stay was so short.
On the eve of our departure, I amused myself more than ever at the military club. At supper my cavaliers entreated me to arrange somehow or other not to leave Jalta next day. Mrs. S., a jolly middle-aged lady whose acquaintance I had just made that evening, offered to take charge of me and proposed to go instantly and persuade my aunt to let me stay with her a few weeks longer. I said “yes” on the impulse of the moment to Mrs. S., not stopping to think that I ought first to ask permission of my parents by telegraph. We set forth at once to our hotel under the escort of my partners. Daylight was beginning to break, and the ship which was to carry me away in a few hours had been brought up alongside of the pier, and our trunks were already buckled and sent off to the steamer.
Mrs. S. came up to my aunt’s bed, my cavaliers waiting at a respectful distance behind the door, and expressed her desire. My heart was beating wildly, I wondered what my aunt would say, would she let me stay, and I uttered a prayer inwardly for the happy issue of our request; poor aunt Zoe, who was sleeping soundly, awoke with a start and gazed perplexedly at Mrs. S., who pledged herself to mind me as her own bairn during my stay in Jalta, and promised to bring me back to Kharkoff in the autumn. Mrs. S. came out victorious and remained slumbering in an armchair till daylight, lest my aunt should alter her mind when wide awake, as for me I was too excited to go to bed at all. As soon as Mrs. S. went away, my aunt who seemed to have little faith in my power to look after myself, decided that she could not trust me out of her sight and leave me under the guardianship of an unknown chaperon, and went to ask another aunt of mine, a Princess Galitzine, who possessed a beautiful villa in Jalta, to look after me; but the Princess refused downright, unwilling to be responsible for my extravagances; she strongly disapproved of me, I believe, and said that I was just the sort of girl to make trouble. I did not want anyone to worry about me, I could take care of myself and get along all right, I should think, and wanted to be treated like a rational human being; I was eighteen after all, and a person of eighteen isn’t a child and doesn’t need a nurse. My aunt and cousins did all in their power to persuade me to return home with them, but I and reason had never marched together, and I remained firm in my intention to stay in Jalta.
I accompanied my aunt to the ship. After the first whistle she called to mind the old proverb saying: “Better late than never,” and unheeding the protests of the captain, she jumped into a boat wishing to carry me off, willing or unwilling; but the piercing shrill of the second whistle forced her to turn back speedily. My fate trembled in the balance as long as I was within my aunt’s reach, and I felt myself in utter security only when I lost sight of the ship completely.
It was done. I got my liberty and Mrs. S. was left sole guardian over me. I was so happy to go about alone, free as the mountain air. I might flirt with what men I pleased, and meant to make the most of my independence and to enjoy my free life thoroughly.
Mrs. S. was the most convenient of chaperons, very complying indeed. I danced and rode and picnicked to my heart’s content. It was all rather dangerous for a girl of my age and temperament, and with all that, I was absolutely without knowledge or experience of the world, exposed to all the temptations of a modern sea-bathing place. One began to gossip on my account and to say nasty things of me, but it did not affect me in the least. I was doing no harm and was happy—why couldn’t people leave me alone?
I had a great number of admirers, an old admiral over seventy years old among them. My charms had captivated his elderly fancy, and his old heart caught fire. This “Methuselah” was an old silly about me and spent his time in making love to me as any “Romeo” of twenty. My company had for him the fascination of the forbidden fruit, but I was not at all ready to play “May” to his “January,” and was afraid even to shake hands with that ancient Marionette, for fear he’d fall to pieces.
The Princess Troubetzkoy invited me one day to come and dine with her in her beautiful villa, situated a few miles from Jalta. My old admiral offered to take me in his brougham, but being a trifle afraid of him I would not consent at first, remembering his atrocious behaviour, when he arranged to see me home and drove me one night from the military club. I suddenly felt an arm steal about my waist in the dark, and that old wretch lent close over me and wanted to embrace me. “May I give you a kiss, just only one?” said that disgusting old man, looking at me as if he would like to eat me, and licking his lips in the anticipation of that pleasure. “Certainly not!” I shrieked emphatically, wrenching myself free and ordering him to keep his hands off. But he reiterated his demand saying that it could not matter, for he was so old and his kiss wouldn’t leave any trace on me, as for him, it would transport him into “Paradise.” Horrible old man! And, notwithstanding all that I accepted the admiral’s offer, hoping that he would conduct himself better in daylight; nevertheless I stepped into his carriage with a vague feeling of uneasiness. It was the most horrid ride I had ever had. At first we conversed by fits and starts, for my cavalier was as deaf as a door-post, and I had to scream very loud into his ear; it had its good points, for I could make my reflections aloud and call him a lot of bad names. Unfortunately that day the admiral was in an alarmingly amiable frame of mind and more inflammable than ever. I found his manner anything but reassuring, and began to be vaguely uneasy at the sight of the nasty face he turned towards me, looking at me with eyes that made me wish myself well out of his carriage. He sat inconveniently close beside me, and I got as far from him as the carriage allowed.
As soon as we were out of town, his quick small eyes roved in all directions, and having satisfied himself that there was no one to see us, he became enterprising, and grew every minute more and more amorous. His sentiments were rather thinly veiled, and I knew what he was driving at. All at once, before I had time to do so much as think of resistance, he pushed back my sleeve and ran up my arm with his horrid old lips as far as he could reach, whispering in a hissing voice that I was a tempting morsel, and that he adored me. I was absolutely disgusted, but what could I do then but turn upon him with flashing eyes, trying to make him ashamed before his coachman, but the fact was that he too was as deaf as his master. It was a most unfair advantage, and I told him so, adding that he was a brute and that I hated him, and that if he didn’t leave me alone at once, I should jump out of his carriage. I was a fiery girl, and had at that moment a ferocious desire to box his ears, but happily by that time the brougham was stopping before the Villa Troubetzkoy. I gave a great sigh of relief. Thank heaven we had arrived! It had the effect of chilling my “Methuselah’s” emotions, and making him recover himself quickly. In parting with my old cavalier I treated him with the contempt he deserved, dropping his outstretched hand like a hot coal, and declaring to him, with my chin in the air, that I was not going to have anything more to do with him, and that henceforth I would not permit him even to kiss the tips of my fingers. After that I ran away, feeling like a nymph flying from a satyr. I certainly didn’t want to trust myself alone with that admiral again; he never forgave me for it, and I looked the other way when I used to meet him.
We continued to lead a very gay life. Dances, picnics, rides, were in full swing. In the midst of most delightful people and amusement I was quite happy, and far from imagining that my horizon was not clear, and that my happy time at Jalta was coming to an end all but too soon. One fine morning we were all assembled on the pier to watch the mail boat coming in, chatting away gaily, when suddenly I heard a sharp voice calling me by my name. I turned round, and was amazed to behold amongst the passengers my mother’s sour-faced maid, Mary—a terrible creature who had lived with us ever since I was a baby. She announced that my parents would not have me staying in Jalta by myself any longer, and had sent her to fetch me, insisting on my immediate return. I was never so overwhelmed in my life, and quite furious at being packed back home in disgrace. My wings were clipped, my freedom lost! When I got into my room I locked myself in and spent an hour weeping passionately.
Of course, I had to obey my duenna, and the following day started homewards with her.
Well, it was a pretty home-coming! I had expected a scolding under the paternal roof, and got a sound one.