I was a half-grown girl now, arrived at the age of fourteen, envied awfully my friends, the countess Sievers and Mary Podgoritchany who were grown-ups and wore long frocks. Some day, I said, it will be my turn to be introduced to society. I looked forward to the day when I should reach the age of seventeen and appear at my first ball with a long train, and be able to flirt to my heart’s content. I felt now that I had enough of governesses. My last one, Melle. Annaguy, bored me awfully, being extremely particular about my manners; it was preach, preach all day long. Melle. Anna gave me continually a string of instructions consisting chiefly of “don’ts,” which I listened to impatiently. I couldn’t go here, I couldn’t go there, I couldn’t eat this, I couldn’t eat that! My governess was indeed too exasperating, and I had a furious inclination to consign her to very warm quarters. Melle. Anna was besides intensely devout; being very anxious about the welfare of my soul, she crammed me with pious lectures, but books of this sort were not in my line, and I read everything I could lay hand on. Papa’s library was full of interesting books, and I spent whole nights greedily devouring in bed works written by Paul de Kock, a jolly author, but rather improper. In the morning I hid these books under my mattress. My childhood days had passed by. Poor “Bibliothèque Rose,” thy time was well and duly over! CHAPTER II MY FIRST TRIP ABROAD When I was fifteen, mamma decided to take me abroad to be “finished.” Stuttgart was chosen for our winter residence; we were to get there towards the end of October, after having visited Paris and made a water-cure at Spa. I was intensely interested in all my surroundings; it was all new to me. We spent a fortnight in Paris, visiting the curiosities of that splendid city from morning till night. I delighted to walk on the boulevards. Though a minx of fifteen I had already an insatiable thirst for admiration, and loved to attract attention, I did not look a “bread and butter Miss” and men stared at me in the streets. One day a passer-by, giving me a glance of approval, said to his companion: “Look at this little girl, she promises much!” I need not say that I was much flattered and laughed outright, but mamma didn’t. From Paris we went to Spa, a bright watering place, lying in a high valley of the Belgian Ardennes, three hours by rail from Brussels. We took an apartment in the house of a coach-maker; his daughter waited on us. Insignificant in her work-a-day clothes, she looked quite a lady on Sundays, dressed in her smartest frock; but her work was badly done that day.