Though I was still in short frocks, I was already a dreadful flirt and had all sorts of love affairs, but all the stock of my affection was exclusively bestowed upon Robert Jeffrey, a pupil of the English school in Cannstadt, a small town in the neighbourhood of Stuttgart. He was a Scotch lad of eighteen summers, blue-eyed, brown-haired and white-toothed. I was drawn to him from the beginning, for Bobbie was a real darling, and I considered him the sweetest boy in the world. I had other admirers, but Jeffrey was by far the handsomest and the dearest; I was quite silly about him and had eyes and ears only for him alone. He was my “Prince Charming;” my imagination adorned him with the attributes of all possible and impossible heroes. It was my first serious affair, the first love of my girlhood. The passion was reciprocal and Jeffrey said I was the first girl who had yet disturbed his peace. Mamma went to Paris for a few days, leaving me under the care of the Baroness Vietinghoff. She hoped that Mary, who considered herself a sort of guardian of mine, would prevent me doing anything rash while she was away. Part of her duty was to keep off boys, (other boys, not Jeffrey.) Mary promised mamma to play a mother’s part to me; she wouldn’t let me commit any eccentricity. But I did an enormous one. Jeffrey was a somewhat green and inexperienced youth, too timid for my taste, and wanted a little go and rousing up. Wishing to sharpen his wits I sent him a wild letter, telling him that he was all the world to me. I did not expect that he would answer personally, that same day, my foolish billet-doux, and when Mary announced that my youthful sweetheart was waiting for me in the drawing-room, I sat down on my trunk, declaring that nothing in the world would force me to move from my place. I don’t believe I am weak in the way of shyness, but I didn’t find strength at the moment to think of facing Jeffrey. Mary went to fetch him and left the room, feeling herself an uncomfortable third. I continued to stick to my box, my chin upon my folded hands. At first we did not utter a single word, as silent as two stones. Some minutes later we were quite ourselves again, and Jeffrey from that day proved extremely teachable, and soon lost his shyness; I had trained him thoroughly.
This foolish “boy and girl love” lasted during all our stay in Stuttgart. We arranged clandestine meetings at the Rydes. Ettie was a staunch friend, full of sympathy, and we poured into her willing ears the story of our love, having found a comfortable ally in her. We used to have great fun together. One evening we were in the wildest spirits, playing charades, and Jeffrey was just going to accomplish one of his forfeits: he had to kneel down beside the prettiest girl of all the company and kiss the one he loved best. He had chosen me for both manifestations. In the midst of the fun mamma appeared. Tableau! She didn’t approve of kissing, mamma—and soon put a stop to the delightful game.
Mamma kept me very strictly, and did a good deal of weeding in the selection of my friends. She did not consider, alas! the Rydes the best of companions for a girl of my temperament, who was always on the look out for wickedness, fearing that they stuffed my head with all sorts of silly nonsense. On holidays she caught me flat-nosed, with my face glued to the window, looking out for the Rydes.
I went with Mary Vietinghoff to Dr. Roth’s gymnastic class, and enjoyed meeting there girls of different social classes. Forgetting that our stations in life were widely apart, it amused me to shake hands with daughters of shopkeepers as well as ladies by birth, without distinction. Dr. Roth made us march up and down the hall with our hands clasped behind our backs. At each step we made he repeated like a pendulum, “Kopf, Rücken, Kopf, Rücken!” and I mimicked him in the ante-room where we put on our hats, throwing my audience into convulsions of giggling. My foolish tricks drove Dr. Roth to despair. When his back was turned I dashed on to the window, raised up a corner of the blind which was generally let down during our exercises, and stared at the passers-by.
As we lived within two minutes’ walk of Dr. Roth’s dwelling, I begged mamma to allow me to go unaccompanied to his class. Mamma objected at first, for she said she could not have me running alone in the streets, but I soon overcame her prejudice and profited by my liberty for paying flying visits to the Rydes on my way home from Dr. Roth’s. Being such a romp I wanted a lot of looking after and gave much trouble to poor mamma, who never knew what I would do next. My apparent frivolity deeply wounded her, but remonstrance always led to scenes. One night, coming home from a dancing-party, where my conduct had been more disgraceful than usual, after a miserable scene that we had had together, mamma fell into hysterics. It drove me nearly mad to see her in such a state, and I dashed into the street and raced headlong, hatless, my hair loose, flying wildly about my shoulders and waving in the wind. Whilst I fled in terror across the street I heard two well-known voices calling: “Vava! Vava!” screamed mamma, “Fräulein Princess!” roared our cook, running after me in pursuit. This only increased my speed, and I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. A group of students, wearing coloured caps and followed by huge dogs, who were coming out of a restaurant before which I was galloping at that moment, were soon at my heels. I never stopped running till I found myself breathless at the door of the Vietinghoffs, having taken that way by instinct, and I flung myself panting into their apartment, where I felt safe at last.
On Sundays we went to the Russian chapel. It amused me enormously to watch the secretary of the queen, a gentleman looking excessively pleased with himself, who made the sign of the cross only when the priest pronounced the names of the queen or the Grand Duchess Vera.
My health began to alarm Mamma; I was growing thin and pale. Our doctor believed I was overstraining myself with lessons, and instead of prescribing me a lot of horrid drugs, he had the capital idea of sending us to sun ourselves for a week or two on the Riviera. We followed willingly his agreeable prescription and set off speedily to Nice.
Mere child as I was, I already indulged in a decided taste for adventures, and experienced one on the road. During the night, we were pushed into a railway carriage full of passengers; one of them, a very good-looking young man, made room for us and went to find for himself another place. The next morning, whilst we were breakfasting at the Station of Marseilles, a waiter brought me a beautiful bouquet, followed by our amiable fellow-passenger of the previous night, who proved to be a Mexican fresh from South America. He opened the conversation by telling us that his name was Gallardo Alvarez, and hinted that he was an unmarried millionaire, making his first pleasure tour in Europe. Studying him stealthily I decided that he would do.
We stopped at the same hotel with Señor Alvarez, who soon began to show me that he was deeply interested in me. In fact I won him entirely. He was a man of volcanic passions and inflammable as gun-cotton, his eyes said even more than his words. Unfortunately the liking was not mutual, he did not make my heart beat. Though I was a girl to change her passions in a hurry, I was so taken up with Jeffrey, that I had no thought for any one else, just then; my Mexican conquest was rather amusing and kept me from yawning, that’s all, but nevertheless I gave him a fair amount of encouragement. I suppose I am a flirt, but I cannot help being nice to men. My Transatlantic adorer followed me about like my shadow; go where I would, he was ever at my heels and at last it became quite wearisome. I was awfully bored and did the utmost to show it to him by being uncivil and not nice, and he only received hard words from me. Oh! I can easily snub anyone if I wish! I told him one day, he needn’t stick to me so, but no, in spite of my rebuffs, he wouldn’t stir from my side; he only exclaimed piteously: “Princess Vava, why are you so awfully hard on me?” He was a persevering wooer that Don Alvarez, telling me that he had already fallen a victim to my blue eyes in the sleeping-car, and that he thought of me all day and dreamt of me all night since, then and a lot more idiotic bosh. He often bothered me with compliments that I affected not to hear. He likened me to Venus and told me that I was his goddess and the wonder of the world, a being created to be fallen in love with, and that I would remain as a gem set in his mind for evermore. But I only made fun of his high-flown sentiments. One night at the Opera, whilst Faust was “cooing” his romance to Margaret, Señor Alvarez asked me suddenly: “Tell me, who is the prettiest person in this house!” I raised my opera glasses and looked about me at the audience, but he told me it was useless work, for there was no looking-glass near me.
I went out shopping with my Mexican friend one afternoon. In a shop-window, with a variety of nick-nacks offered for sale, I saw a small box of powder in the form of an ivory apple, a perfect darling, which took particularly my fancy. I had a craving to possess it, but as I had only a few coppers left in my purse, I could not purchase it, and looked at the tempting apple with longing eyes; but crushed by the scorn of the stylish person behind the counter, I left the shop dismissing it from my mind. On the same night, going to bed, I noticed a parcel lying upon my toilet table, which contained the apple that I had resisted, bought by my Mexican Paris for his Russian Helena.