We met at a dinner-party a few days after his arrival. At the sight of him my heart began to beat very quickly. Do what I would to banish him from my thoughts, I never ceased to love him; but he looked so frigid when he came up to me that I was cut to the quick. Surely he might look a little more pleased at seeing me! Was he doing it to provoke me? I felt that something had broken between us and that we should never be the same to each other after that night. My anger rose against him and I tried to look stolidly indifferent, and if possible, to be more frigid than he was. I ignored Serge Michailovitch the whole evening and behaved shockingly, talking a lot of stupid nonsense; I did not know myself what I was saying and mamma looked disapprovingly at me across the table. I own that my behaviour was shameful and that I deserved to have lost the best husband that ever a woman desired. When I got home the evil spirit went out of me and I felt awfully remorseful. I would not lose Serge Michailovitch for anyone or anything in this world. I was not going to run away from my happiness, and at any price I had to see him again and make it up with him; whatever happened, I must not let him go. I resolved therefore upon the desperate step of writing to him, and it had to be done at once or my courage would fail me. I sat down and scribbled a few lines telling him that I wanted to apologise for my extremely silly conduct. His answer contained an appointment for the following afternoon at four o’clock; he asked me to come out for a ride with him. I passed a restless night glowing with impatience at the next day’s rendezvous. I wanted to see him so much, yet I dreaded the ordeal. How could I meet him? How could I look into his face again?
I got up nervous and excited. The whole morning I had been in a fever; my hands were as cold as ice and my cheeks burned like fire. How slowly the hours did pass! When Serge Michailovitch was announced I went hot all over, and my emotion was so uncontrollable that I fled into my room, in which I felt more safe. My cousin Nathaly dragged me out by force and the next minute we came face to face, Serge Michailovitch and I. The first step was made, we mounted our horses and set off at a trot; soon after we walked them slowly, riding side by side. For some time we did not exchange a word, then suddenly Serge Michailovitch put his arm round me and drew me towards him till our lips met; he told me then that he loved me and asked me if I cared enough for him to become his wife. I only answered with my eyes, which spoke the plainest “yes,” and thus, under the open sky, we pledged our troth, for a minute forgetting everything but our two selves. I gave him with happiness the gift of myself. Nothing could shake my faith in him now. For me that day marked the red-letter day of my calendar. I rode back to Tiflis an engaged girl, and announced our betrothal to mamma; I longed to inform the world at large of it. Our betrothal was made known the next day, and hearty were the congratulations addressed to us. I wrote to my father to ask for his consent and blessing, which he gave with pleasure.
Our wedding was to take place at Dolgik in the beginning of April. Serge Michailovitch, Sergy as I called him now, spent a good deal of his time with me; we used to pass all our evenings together in the library, where we contrived a sort of recess, furnished with a sofa, in which we could talk in peace. Nothing will ever make me forget the hours we passed together, hours which were all but too brief for us; we forgot that clocks existed. Dear days! so long ago, yet so vivid to me! We sat on the sofa with our heads very close together, pretending to read out of a book that lay on my lap face downwards. One evening as I sat thus, side by side with Sergy, my hand imprisoned in his, developing our plans for our future happiness, the footsteps of my uncle Staritzki recalled us to reality. Seeing that I held my book upside down, uncle went to fetch a venerable calf-bound volume containing the code of laws, and gave it to me saying laughingly that, perhaps we should be more interested with that sort of literature.
I was the happiest girl on earth; it was so good to feel that Sergy cared for me! He became my world, my all. I was no longer the same girl I had been, my time of playing with the sentiments of men was over; surely there were two Vava Galitzines: one that had been blessed with the happy faculty of dismissing one love from her mind the moment that she began to occupy herself with another, and one who, in spite of her frivolous outside, loved only one man in the world—her Sergy!
Now and then I had little fits of ill-temper, days when I was out of sorts with myself and everyone else. My griefs did not last long, but while they lasted they were very strong. Sometimes, after short quarrels between us, I would lock myself up in my room and flinging myself across my bed, burst into stormy tears, my hair all dishevelled and hanging loose like a repentant “Magdalena.” These sudden outbursts of passion cleared off quickly, and I soon made it up with Sergy.
Nearly a month had passed since our engagement, and our visit was near drawing to a close; it was time to start on our homeward journey. I left Tiflis with heart-breaking regret; I hated to leave Sergy behind, he had grown into my heart and I could not bear the idea of being separated from him. I didn’t know how I was going to get along till April without a sight of him; deprived of his company my life would be lonely beyond words. Five months were such an awfully long time to wait! We promised to write to each other every day, but that was a poor consolation.
We travelled to Russia via Poti. Early the following morning our boat was to leave that town and we had to pass the night at a hotel. I was tired and depressed; directly after dinner I got into bed and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up in the morning the wind moaned outside and the rain poured down in torrents. I went to the window and looked at the unquiet sea; great waves were tumbling over the pier; it was a very unpleasant day indeed for a sail, therefore, we decided to travel back to Tiflis, and afterwards take the carriage road that leads to Vladicaucasus.
We reached Tiflis in the evening and gave Sergy a pleasant surprise. Oh! there was no mistake about his being glad to see me!
Much to my egotistical delight, the roads were encumbered by falls of great masses of snow, and we were to have a whole week of each other’s company until they were cleared away. In my secret heart I was cherishing a wild hope that new avalanches would fall and that we should be the longer together, but, alas, the roads were getting all right and the dreaded day of our second separation rapidly approached. I grumbled a good deal at having to leave Tiflis again; I had never been so sorry to quit any place before.