November 30th.—Our stay in Tiflis, alas, did not last long. The Grand Duke Michael, setting out to St. Petersburg, has charged Sergy to work out projects in case of a new war with Turkey, (Oh! horror!) and has ordered him to bring them personally to St. Petersburg. We are leaving Tiflis in the beginning of December.
CHAPTER XVIII
ST. PETERSBURG
We have put up at the Grand Hôtel where we feel very comfortable. This winter I mean to lead a quiet, homely life, being wonderfully changed after my marriage. Out of a frivolous society girl, I have developed, thanks to Sergy, into a very domestic sort of person. I have seen enough of the world to understand how flippant it is, how empty—a vanity of vanities! Marriage has given me a new view of the world altogether, I have taken off my rose-coloured spectacles to look at life as it is, and have learned many things which I did not know.
Russia continues to outlive troublesome times; after the war it is the anarchist conspirators who organise inquisitions, condemn to death, and hold themselves the office of executioners. A rumour has spread in town that on Easter Eve there will be a repetition of St. Bartholomew’s night, and that all the wealthy inhabitants of the city will be massacred.
The life of our Emperor is in constant danger. An attempt to murder him was made whilst he was taking his usual afternoon walk. Luckily the malefactor’s bullet missed the Tzar. Petersburg is all in a flutter through that attempt. Te Deums are sung in all the churches and the town is decorated all over with flags. The day of the attempt, during the performance of the opera “Life for the Tzar,” a large audience packed the house from floor to ceiling. When the Emperor appeared in his box, the hymn “God save the Tzar,” resounded through the hall; the whole audience rose to their feet, and deafening cheers were heard. Our monarch bowed graciously in response.
Though the Neva thawed very late this year, larks were singing, and the sky was blue, and the whole air was full of the spring promise. It gave me a wild desire to go abroad and fly over hill and dale. Sergy wanted to take a two months’ leave of absence, but the doctor that he had summoned to certify the absolute necessity of a cure, after having given his diagnosis, said that Sergy was blessed with excellent health. As it was absolutely necessary to find an ailment of some kind, I had recourse to artfulness. Before the doctor took leave, I put my head through the door and made faces behind his back, grimacing so wildly that Sergy had to struggle with suppressed laughter; the muscles of his face moved and his lips twitched. “Oh, I don’t like that at all!” cried out the mystified Æsculapius. “I see now what is the matter with you! your overstrained nervous system calls for energetic treatment, and a month’s holidays, at least, is the sort of physic you want. Your ailment is overwork, pure and simple!” When the doctor left I burst into wild laughter, and thought him the nicest physician in the world. My scheme was thus successful, and Sergy, being ordered abroad by the doctor to take a long rest, had obtained a six weeks’ leave of absence.
I was tremendously pleased to visit foreign countries, and looked forward to it with great anticipation. Quantities of pleasant things were planned. But, alas! it had only been a sweet dream! I soon awoke to grim reality. Quite unexpectedly Sergy was appointed chief of the staff of the circuit of Moscow. I was greatly disappointed that we had to give up our cherished trip abroad. It was all so sudden, so totally unexpected, and I cried that night when I went to bed. But it means a very brilliant future for my husband, and it would be madness to refuse it. We have to start without delay.