Sometimes after tea, I slipped into the servants’ quarters to partake of tea again, because I thought they had more interesting things to eat. I was quite wrapped up in my small world without realizing that there was any other. And yet being born into a royal family I still kept wondering whether I should have been someone else. I wondered if my grandmother, the Dowager Empress Marie, ever forgave me for not being a boy. That might explain her critical attitude toward me. I thought I sensed an unsympathetic bearing in her and I often retaliated by being irritable which in turn justified her criticism of me. On second thought this same Grandmother understood me perhaps better than anyone else. When all despaired of me, she would say, “Don’t worry, she’ll tame down after a while.” This may have been a comforting thought to my family, but not to me. I did not want to be like my Granny, not at all. She was small, dark-eyed, deep-voiced, always beautifully groomed. I wanted to be like Tatiana, tall, beautiful and graceful. Often after I was tucked in bed, I whispered a prayer that God might transform me overnight into a girl like Tatiana. Grandmother was Alexei’s favorite. He loved her more than we sisters did. She was Father’s mother and there was a strong bond between them. I remember the satisfaction I felt when some Danish relatives were visiting us and my Grandmother said to one, “Anastasia is certainly small,” and the relative replied, “You are not very tall yourself.” This kind person must have sensed that I was touchy about my height and she attempted to defend me before Grandmother. When Father’s work was done for the day, he would enter Mother’s apartment and whistle melodiously. This was the signal for a family get-together or for an exercise outdoors. Sometimes Father took me on a walk alone. He listened seriously to my talk and pretended to be concerned about my petty problems. I swelled with pride that he considered my little world was as important as his. He was a lover of nature, and this knowledge made our walks even more interesting. Father had the reputation of being graceful and a good tennis player. He played with the best professionals in the Crimea and won most of the time. Olga and Tatiana often played with him and I looked forward to the day when I would be able to match him in a real game. But that day never came. Before the war I was too young, and during the war there was no opportunity. I did return the balls occasionally when Father was practicing. II SCHOOL DAYS