I longed for the winter to be over; the days passed slowly, very slowly. I was in very low spirits and wanted Sergy most awfully, my one desire was to see him; I thought of him morning, noon, and night. He had grown so dear to me that I could not do without him. We corresponded regularly and I only lived from letter to letter. Every morning my father entered my room, sat down on the edge of my bed and dropped a letter into my lap. Sergy wrote such delightful epistles which I devoured greedily.

In order to cheer me up my parents proposed to take me to Kharkoff, where the governor of the town was to give a couple of grand balls, but I refused outright; what pleasure could I derive from them without Sergy! I no longer knew myself, I was a new creature; Sergy certainly had worked wonders; my craze for pleasure, for excitement, my vanity and coquetry, well, all this was over and done with.

For a whole week I had no news from Sergy and was beginning to get very anxious. One rainy afternoon, as I was sitting in the drawing-room, hemming towels for our future household, I heard the sound of wheels on the gravel. Oh! there is the door bell! It is some intrusive country-neighbour that had burst upon us for sure. This irony of fate exasperated me beyond measure; suppose that instead of that boring visitor it was my welcome bridegroom who had come! But no, that was not possible, I was stupid to think about it, it was just as well to desire the moon. As I could not possibly see any strangers now, I gathered up my needlework and fled into my room. Soon after I was called by mamma, and directed my steps adagio towards the drawing-room. But lo! what was that? the clinking of spurs? I opened the door, my heart beating wildly, and stood dazed and unable to believe my own eyes. There, on the threshold, was Sergy, my beloved Sergy! It was no dream and the next instant his arms were thrown eagerly round me. Sergy had contrived to obtain a few days leave, on the most urgent private affairs, and run over to Dolgik, crossing the Black Sea, so stormy at this time of year, in order to spend a week with me. It was so very sweet of him to come all that long way, that horrid November month, to see me! So that was the reason of his long silence.

I was beside myself with joy, it was simply glorious to have Sergy here, but his flying visit only sharpened my desire to have him always near me. The days that followed his departure were long and dismal; I was literally pining for him and counted the weeks and days like a schoolgirl.

So time went on. As the day of our marriage approached, my spirits rose. Sergy announced by wire his definite arrival for the first day of Easter. I was in a terrible state of nervous excitement on that happy day, and felt so impatient to see him that I could hardly sit still! Hark! There’s a carriage rumbling round the porch. Oh rapture, oh joy! It is he, my bridegroom, whom I have wanted so greedily! I have him now for good and all; except death there is no power on earth which can divide us!

April 11th, 1876, our wedding day, was a red-letter day for me. Our house was full of guests and relations assembled to see me married. The marriage ceremony was to take place at ten o’clock in the evening in our village church. Before starting for church my father and mother gave me their blessing and cried a good deal. My bridegroom came forward to meet me on the threshold of the church and led me to the altar. We stood before the old priest who was to unite us, a little pale but quite self-possessed. He pronounced the words of the Sacrament that had been said over to so many millions of human beings: “Until death us do part!” and we became man and wife. The priest had concluded his marriage benediction, and after the usual congratulations, Sergy offered me his arm and we passed out of church, going together into a new life. We proceeded to our chateau, where my parents gave us and our numerous guests a sumptuous supper, enlivened by a military band that they sent for from Kharkoff. Whilst my health was drunk Sergy pressed a kiss on my lips, then followed a clinking of glasses and wild cheers of felicitations and blessings without end. Amidst this hurly-burly I saw a spider that crept up my nuptial gown. That was a cheerful omen for our wedding. A French proverb says: Araignée du soir grand espoir. God grant it to be so!

When the meal was over I went speedily to put on my travelling dress, for it was nearly daylight and we had to drive a long way to Mertchik, a fine estate belonging to Sergy’s elder brother, situated at about fifty miles from Dolgik, where we were to spend our honeymoon.

Before leaving the home that had sheltered my happy girlhood for ever, I went to bid my last farewell to the room of my girlish days. I knelt down at the side of my forlorn bed, and with my head on my folded arms I prayed. Then I parted from my parents, shedding copious tears. Good-bye Dolgik, good-bye my dear old life!

I stepped with my husband into the handsome victoria, given to me by my brother for a wedding present, and we rode away, driven by four spirited horses. On crossing a bridge one of our steeds slipped and went down; the carriage passed over him, throwing the coachman and the footman off their box-seat. The frightened animals, feeling themselves at liberty, tore away down the road at a frightful pace. We were sitting terror-struck, seeing ourselves shut up in the carriage. Sergy made an attempt to squeeze himself through the pane of glass on the box, in order to catch hold of the reins and stop the horses. I divined his crazy purpose and clutched at him with all my force. Luckily at that moment the reins entangled themselves between the wheels, bringing the maddened animals to a stand-still within two steps of the river.

We had all miraculously escaped from death, and weren’t hurt at all, only scared. When we sprang down, I shook with nervousness, and began to sob convulsively. It is easy to conceive the fright of Sergy’s brothers who were following us behind. They made us mount into their brougham and soon after we arrived safely at Mertchik. My favourite dog, a beautiful St. Bernard, who had been sent to Mertchik the day before, stood wagging his tail to welcome us on the doorstep.

My parents with some friends came to visit us the next day. I put on for that occasion a dressing-gown with a long train and felt very proud to be called Madame and said “my husband” on every available opportunity.

I had won the great draw in the matrimonial lottery, for Sergy was the best of husbands. I had found true happiness and felt that I had just begun to live. We were all in all to each other; how I had existed so long without Sergy, passes my comprehension. I couldn’t believe that any man could have such a power over me; my whole heart belonged to him. There seemed no disparity in our ages, for Sergy was so full of the joy of life. He fondled me and fulfilled all my wishes, giving me everything I could wish for before even I asked; he literally read my thoughts. Sergy was, in short, a darling, and I have only the old story to tell:

But our honeymoon was short, alas; the clouds came on all but too soon. We had been married about twenty days, and my cup of happiness was full, when matters took a turn for the bad. There came a telegram calling my husband back to Tiflis on account of the preparations for war with Turkey. This unexpected turn of events fairly stunned me. What awaited us, I wondered?

I was heart-broken at parting with my parents, who accompanied us to the railway station with a great number of friends. Parting is so horrid; I always hated good-byes. I gave kisses and shake-hands to right and left, and cried a good deal, crushing unmercifully my pocket handkerchief, a dainty thing not made for woe. It was time to enter our compartment; I stood at the window to say a last farewell. The engine whistled and the long train groaned and moved away, carrying me away speedily to my new home.

At one of the big stations a young officer came up to me, a tall, good-looking fellow, in whom I recognised one of the victims of my St. Petersburg doings, a former page who had been enamoured with me once upon a time. He was greatly altered, having attained the age of adolescence; a slight trace of a moustache was visible. His face was aglow with the pleasure at seeing me. He took my hands in his and said in a low aside to me that he continued to adore me, and a lot more things that were enough to move a stone. But all this seemed exceedingly foolish to me, and I was a little uncertain whether I ought to be flattered or affronted, but he looked so doleful that I had not the heart to snub him and treated him with a soft graciousness which raised him to the seventh heaven and induced him to devour my hands with kisses. One more good-bye and then farewell; we had gone away! My ex-page stood staring ruefully after the departing train, which stole me away, whilst I lent on the window squeezing tightly Sergy’s hand and nodding him adieu. How ridiculous seemed to me all the passing fancies of by-gone days. I see now that I never loved anyone until I met Sergy; he was absolutely and indisputably sole master of my heart. All the others served only as a pastime.