Her stepmother began to blame Migoúrski for, as she said, selfishly wishing to improve his sad lot by inducing a wealthy girl, whose affections he had secured, to share his misfortunes. Albína thereupon became angry, and told her stepmother that no one but she could ascribe such low motives to a man who had sacrificed everything for his native land; that, on the contrary, Migoúrski had refused the help she had offered him; but that she had irrevocably decided to go to him and marry him, if only he would allow her that happiness. Albína was legally of age, and she had money: 300,000 zloty, 314 a sum that an uncle had left to each of his two nieces; so no one could interfere.

In November, 1833, Albína bade farewell to the household (who saw her start for barbarous Russia as though she were going to her death), seated herself with her old and devoted nurse Ludwíka, whom she took with her, in her father’s old carriage⁠—newly repaired for the great journey⁠—and started on her long road.