The wholesome country air put me quite on my legs again, my health was entirely restored, and I recovered my good looks and my spirits, but I had such a shock when I found all my hair had to come off; I was obliged to have it shaved after my illness. It did not hinder me, however from having three or four admirers here, waiting on my very words. One of my chief victims was Aksenoff, a chum of my brother’s, who was completing his studies at the University of Kharkoff that year. Aksenoff was not a bit the hero of my girlish dreams and had no chance whatever of attracting me; he was a clumsy, athletic-looking lad, with feet like fiddle-cases. Rough on the outside, but the best fellow in the world, he improved on close acquaintance. One could easily see that he was falling seriously in love with me in spite of my shaven head, covered, it is true, with a coquettish cap which suited me wonderfully. I seemed to him a pearl beyond price, and he spent all his time in gazing up at me as a unattainable star. He was my devoted slave in everything, following me about with a sort of dog-like fidelity. I could twist that giant round my little finger; he was as wax in my hands and would go through fire and water for my sake, but I was a very cruel girl, I delighted to torment my admirers and I only made a laughing-stock of Aksenoff, and began to order him about mercilessly. Enjoying to impress my sweet will upon the poor boy, I teased and tormented him atrociously. Had I not had plenty of victims already? Why should I want that poor boy to be tortured? But my desire for conquest was insatiable, I couldn’t leave a man alone.
We had a continual succession of guests in our house. In the middle of May there was a large party staying at Dolgik-castle, and Aksenoff was kept by me as usual in the background; he accompanied us in our excursions, carrying cloaks and umbrellas. I used him barbarously and abused my power over him. I was pitiless, making the most use possible of my willing slave, and invented many nasty tricks to annoy him. When we arranged dances in the evenings I sent him to gather roses in the garden, promising him, with my most winning smile, a waltz in recompense, whilst another partner carried me off in his arms from under his nose, leaving him standing there in great dismay. My simple-hearted lover had no suspicion that I was only fooling him, he went and picked the roses, and when he returned with an armful of flowers, I started him out again on the same errand, and the much-enduring Aksenoff went off crestfallen, with a face a yard long. One must allow, poor boy, that just then he happened to be supremely unattractive. When he came back this time, I flung off his roses and said with my most princess-like air, dropping into an armchair, that I was too tired to dance with him now. Seeing the look of suffering in his face, I thought that I had teased him enough for that evening, and coaxed him with some sweet words. Poor Aksenoff only heaved a sigh like a March-gale and looked at me with kind, forgiving eyes. He told me one day that the lines of his hand predicted him a short life, and his prediction was realised; soon after we heard of his death in Kharkoff, of smallpox.
CHAPTER IV
MY SECOND TRIP ABROAD
In order to recover entirely from the effects of my illness, the physicians sent me to Biarritz. I was taken abroad by mamma. Towards the latter end of July, travelling from Berlin there was a nice German lady with her niece in our compartment, and I was delighted with my new acquaintance, a girl of about my own age, ever ready for frolic and fun. As soon as the whistle of our train announced an approaching station, we hung our heads out of the window and exchanged glances with groups of German students, in red caps who promenaded on the platform, shouting to them: “Rothkapchen!” But as soon as they approached, our heads were hurriedly withdrawn.
We established ourselves in Biarritz at the delightful Hôtel d’Angleterre, full of English tourists. The outlook from our windows was splendid; in the distance came the incessant wash of the ocean, and at night, the murmur of the waves was a sweet lullaby soothing me to sleep.
On the first day of our arrival, at table-d’hôte, my eyes travelled round the table and noticed an attractive-looking English trio sitting opposite to us: Mr Delbruck, his son Alfred and his nephew Walter Heape, a fine, fresh-looking boy, with whom I made a nice little bit of flirtation during our stay in Biarritz. He was very much drawn towards me; I also entertained tender feelings towards him. (And what of the prince of Montenegro?) But, never mind the prince, he was far enough away, just then, anyhow!
In Biarritz you are next door to Spain and I longed to snatch a glimpse of that poetic country of fans, mantillas and serenades. The Delbrucks agreed to go with us to San-Sebastiano, a Spanish town near the frontier. We could easily go there and be back by dinner-time. We started at an early hour, half asleep all of us, but were soon cheered up as we came out into the freshness and crispness of the early morning.
As we passed the frontier, I was very much disappointed to see that the Spanish officials, walking on the platform, looked just the same as the French ones,—not a bit like opera Toreadors or Tradiavolos!