at the Richter’s. But there was no one at home, that is Frau R. was
certainly at home, but said she was not because they are very much
offended with Father. In the afternoon Dora and I had a lot of things to
get, and we met Viktor, by arrangement of course. Dora cried a lot; they
went into the Minorite church while I went for a walk in Kohlmarkt and
Herrengasse. He is going to America in the beginning of July, before
Dora comes home. He has given her some exquisite notepaper stamped with
his regimental arms, specially for her to write to him on, and a locket
with his portrait. To-morrow she is going to send him her photo, through
me, I shall be awfully glad to take it. Dora has been much nicer to me
lately.
June 6th. Mother and Dora left early this morning. Mother has never gone
away from us before for long at a time, so I cried a lot and so did she.
Dora cried too, but I know on whose account. Father and I are alone now.
At dinner he said to me: “My little housewife.” It was so lovely. But
it’s frightfully quiet in the house, for 2 people don’t talk so much as
4. It made me feel quite uncomfortable. To-day I talked several things
over with Resi. What I think worst of all is that one saw the whole
of his behind, it was really disgusting. Dora said the other day she
thought it was positively infamous. Resi said they might at least
have pulled down the blind so that nobody could see in, that’s what
respectable people would do. But _respectable_ people simply would
not strip, or at least they’d cover themselves respectably with the
bedclothes. Then Resi told me some more about the bank clerk and his
wife, that is _not_-wife. She does not know if her parents know about
it, and what excuse she makes for not living at home. She is not a
Jewess, though he is a Jew. Resi absolutely curled up with laughing
because I said: “Ah, that is why he insists that they shall _both_ strip
though ordinarily only the wife has to strip.” But she herself said a
little while ago that only Jews do it _that way_, and to-day she laughed
as if I were talking utter nonsense. Really she does not know exactly
herself, and she cloaks it with laughter because she’s annoyed, first
because _she_ does not know, and then also I’m sure because she really
began to talk about the matter. One thing that puzzles me is that I
never dream about _it_. I should like to know whether perhaps Dora never
really dreamed of it, though she pretended she did. As for Hella saying
she dreamed of it the day before yesterday, I’m sure that was pure
invention, for she was not there at all. She says it’s a good thing she
was not for if she had been she would have burst out laughing. But I
fancy if she’d seen what we saw she would have found there was nothing
to laugh at.
June 7th. It’s frightfully dull after dinner and in the evening before
bed time, especially because this year, since the affair at the front
door, Dora and I have always had plenty to talk about. I miss it. I wish
Hella would come and stay with us for the 4 weeks. But she does not want
to. Father had work to do to-day, so I’m quite alone and feel as if I’d
like to cry.
June 9th. Yesterday, when I was feeling so melancholy, Resi came to make
my bed, and we talked about the married couple opposite, and then she
told me awful things about a young married couple where she was once.
She left because they always went into the bath together; she says she’s
certain that _something happened_ there. And then she told me about an
old gentleman who made _advances_ to her; but of course she would not
have anything to do with him; besides he was married, and anyhow he
would never have married a servant for he was a privy councillor.
Yesterday Father said: Poor little witch, it’s very lonely for you now;
but look here, Resi is no fit company for you; when your little tongue
wants to wag, come to my room. And I was awfully stupid, I began to cry
like anything and said. “Father, please don’t be angry, I’ll never think
and never talk of such things any more.” Father did not know at first
what I meant, but afterwards it must have struck him, for he was so kind
and gentle, and said: “No, no, Gretel, don’t corrupt your youth with
such matters, and when there’s anything that bothers you, ask Mother,
but not the servants. A girl of good family must not be too familiar
with servants. Promise me.” And then, though I’m so big he took me on
his knee like a child and petted me because I was crying so. “It’s all
right, little Mouse, don’t worry, you must not get so nervous as Dora.
Give me a nice kiss, and then I’ll come with you to your room and stay
with you till you go to sleep.” Of course I stayed awake on purpose as
long as I could, till a quarter to 11.
And then I dreamed that Father was lying in Dora’s bed so that when I
woke up early in the morning I really looked across to see if he had not
gone to bed there. But of course I’d only dreamed it.
June 12th. To-morrow there’s a great school excursion; I am so glad, a
whole day with Frau Doktor M. and without any lessons. We are going up
Eisernes Tor. Last year there was no outing, because the Fourth did not
want to go to the Anninger, but to the Hochschneeberg, and the Head did
not want to go there.
June 13th. We had a lovely outing. Hella and I spent the whole day with
Frau Doktor M.; in the afternoon Franke said: “I say, why do you stick
to Frau Doktor like that? One can’t get a word with you.” So then we went
for a good walk through the forest with Franke and she told us about a
student who is in the Eighth now and who is madly in love with her.
For all students are in love with her, _so she says_. We were not much
interested in that, but then she told us that Frau Doktor M. is secretly
engaged to a professor in Leipzig or some other town in Germany. Her
cousin is Frau Doktor’s dressmaker, and she is quite certain of it. Her
parents are opposed to it because he is a _Jew_ but they are frantically
in love with one another and they intend to marry. And then we asked
Franke, since she is a Jewess too whether it was all true what Mali,
who was here when Resi was in hospital, had told us about the Jews. And
Franke said: “Oh yes, it is true I can confirm it in every point. But
it’s not so bad about the cruelty, every man is cruel, especially in
this matter.” No doubt she’s right, but it’s horrible to think that our
lovely and refined Frau Doktor M is going to have a cruel husband. Hella
says that if _she_ is satisfied, I don’t need to get excited about it.
But perhaps she does not know that -- -- --. When we came out of the
wood the Herr Religionsprofessor who is awfully fond of Frau Doktor
M. called out: “Frau Doktor, you have lost your two satellites!” And
everybody laughed because we’d come back. Father came to fetch Hella and
me, and since it was nearly 11 o’clock Hella stayed the night with us.
It was awfully nice, but at the same time I was sorry because I could
not have any more talk with Father. When we were getting up in the
morning we splashed one another and played the fool generally, so that
we were nearly late for school. The staff was still in high spirits,
including Professor Wilke, about whom we had not bothered ourselves all
day; that is he did not come until the afternoon when he came to meet
us on our way. We believe he is in love with Frau Doktor M. too, for
he went about with her all the time, and it was probably on her account
that he came. None of the other professors were there, for they were all
taking their classes in the different Gymnasiums.
June 14th. I am so excited. We were going to school to-day at 9 and
suddenly we heard a tremendous rattling with a sword; that is Hella
heard it, for she always notices that sort of thing before I do, and she
said: “Hullo, that’s an o-- in a frightful hurry,” and looked round; “I
say, there’s Viktor behind us” and he really was, he was saluting us and
he said: Fraulein Rita, can you give me a moment; you’ll excuse me won’t
you, Fraulein Hella? He always calls me Rita, and it shows what a nice
refined kind of a man he is that he should know my friend’s name. Hella
said directly: “Don’t mention it, Herr Oberleutenant, don’t let me be
in your way if it’s anything important,” and she went over to the
other side of the street. He looked after her and said: “What a lovely,
well-mannered young lady your friend is.” Then he came back to the main
point He has already had 2 letters from Dora, but not an answer to
his letter, because she can’t fetch it from the post office, _poste
restante_. Then he implored me to enclose a letter from him in mine to
Dora. But since Mother naturally reads my letters, I told him it was
not so simple as all that; but I knew of a splendid way out of the
difficulty; I would write to Mother and Dora _at the same time_, so
that Dora could get hold of _his letter_ while Mother was not noticing.
Viktor was awfully pleased and said: “You’re a genius and a first-class
little schemer,” and kissed my hand. Still, he might have left out the
“little.” If one’s is so _little_, one can’t very well be a schemer.
From the other side of the street Hella saw him kiss my hand. She says
I did not try to draw it away, but held it out to him like a grand lady
and even dropped it at the wrist. She says we girls of good family do
that sort of thing by instinct. It may be so, for I certainly did not
do it intentionally. In the afternoon I wrote the two letters, just the
ordinary one to Mother and a short one to Dora with the enclosure, and
took it to the post _myself_.
June 16th. I’ve already got so used to being alone with Father that I
take it as a matter of course. We often drive in the Prater, or go in
the evening to have supper in one of the parks, and of course Hella
comes with us. I am frightfully excited to know what Dora will write. I
forgot to write in my diary the other day that I asked Viktor if he was
really going to New York. He said he had no idea of doing anything of
the kind, that had only been a false alarm on the part of the Old Man.
That’s what he calls his father. I don’t think it’s very nice of him, a
little vulgar, and perhaps that is why Father can’t stand him. In fact
Father does not like any officers very much, except Hella’s father, but
then he’s fairly old already. I say, Hella mustn’t read that, it would
put her in an awful wax; but her father really is at least 4 or 5 years
older than Father.
June 17th. Frau Doktor M. is ill, but we don’t know what’s the matter
with her. We were all frightfuly dull at school. The head took her
classes and we were left to ourselves in the interval. I do hope she has
not got appendicitis, that would be awful.
June 18th. _She_ isn’t back yet. Frau Doktor Steiner says she has very
bad tonsillitis and won’t be able to come for at least a week.
June 19th. There was a letter from Dora to-day. I’m furious. Not a word
about my sisterly affection, but only: “Many thanks for your trouble.”
It’s really too bad; _he_ is quite different!! I shan’t forget this in a
hurry. Hella says that she only hinted at it like that to be on the
safe side. But it’s not true, for she knows _perfectly well_ that Father
never reads our letters. She simply takes it as a matter of course.
Yesterday was the first time I stayed away from school since I went to
the High School. Early in the morning I had such a bad sore throat and
a headache, so Father would not let me go. I got better as the day went
on, but this morning I was worse again. Most likely I shall have to stay
at home for 2 or 3 days. Father wanted to send for the doctor, but it
really was not necessary.
June 20th. When Resi was doing our room to day she wanted to begin
talking once more about _various things_, but I said I did not
particularly care to hear about such matters, and then she implored me
never to tell Mother and Father anything about what she had said to us
about the young married couple; she said she would lose her place and
she would be awfully sorry to do that.
June 21st. My knees are still trembling; there might have been a
frightful row; luckily Father was out. At half past 6, when Hella and I
were having a talk, the telephone bell rang. Luckily Resi had gone out
too to fetch something so I answered the telephone, and it was Viktor!
“I must see you to-morrow morning early or at 1 o’clock; I waited for
you _in vain_ at 1 to-day.” Of course, for I was still ill, that is
still am ill. But well or ill I must go to school to-morrow. If Father
had been at home; or even Resi, she might have noticed something. It
would have been very disagreeable if I had had to ask her not to give me
away. Hella was frightfully cheeky, she took the receiver out of my hand
and said: “Please don’t do this again, it’s frightfully risky for my
friend.” I was rather annoyed with her, but Hella said he certainly
deserved a lecture.
To-morrow we are going to a concert and I shall wear my new white dress.
It does look rather nice after all for sisters to be dressed alike. I’ve
taken to wearing snails, *** Father calls them “cow-pats;” but everyone
else says it’s exceedingly becoming.
*** Flat rolls of hair-plait covering the ears.--Translators’
Note.
June 22nd. He was awfully charming when he came up to us and said: “Can
a repentant sinner be received back into grace?” And he gave each of us
a lovely rose. Then he handed me a letter and said: “I don’t think we
need make any secret before your energetic friend.” Really I did not
want to forward any more letters but I did not know how to say so
without offending him, for Dora’s cheek is not his fault, and I did not
want to say anything to-day, 1 because of the roses, and 2 because
Hella was there. There can’t be more than 2 or 3 times more, so I shan’t
bother. But _Dora_ doesn’t deserve it, really. Franke is a vulgar girl.
She saw us together the other day, and the next day she asked: Where did
you pick up that handsome son of Mars? Hella retorted: “Don’t use such
common expressions when you are speaking of Rita’s cousin.” “Oh, a
cousin, that’s why he kisses her hand I suppose?” Since then we only
speak to Franke when we are positively obliged. Not to speak to her at
all would be too dangerous, you never can tell; but if we speak only a
little, she can’t take offence.
June 23rd. The school insp. came yesterday, the old one who always
comes for Maths. He is so kind and gentle that all the girls can answer
everything; we like him better than the one who comes for languages.
Verbenowitsch was awfully puffed up because he praised her. Good Lord,
I’ve been praised often enough, but that does not make _me_ conceited.
Anyhow he did not call on me yesterday because I’d been absent 4 days.
Frau Doktor M. came back to-day. She looks awfully pale and wretched, I
don’t know why; it’s such a pity that she does not let us walk home with
her, except last year when there was all that fuss about Fraulein St.’s
bead bag. She bows to us all very politely when we salute her, but she
won’t walk with any of the pupils, though Verbenowitsch is horribly
pushing and is always hanging about on the chance.
June 26th. It’s really stupid how anxious I am now at Communion lest
the host should drop out of my mouth. I was so anxious I was very nearly
sick. Hella says there must be some reason for it, but I don’t know of
any, except that the accident which that girl Lutter in the Third had
made me even more anxious that I was before. Hella says I’d better turn
Protestant, but nothing would induce me to do that; for after Com. one
feels so pure and so much better than one was before. But I’m sorry to
say it does not last so long as it ought to.
June 27th. Mother is _really_ ill. Father told me about it. He was
awfully nice and said: If only your Mother is spared to us. She is far
from well. Then I asked: Father, what is really wrong with Mother? And
Father said: “Well, dear, it’s a hidden trouble, which has really been
going on for a long time and has now suddenly broken out.” “Will she
have to have an operation?” “We hope we shall be able to avoid that. But
it’s a terrible thing that Mother should be so ill.” Father looked so
miserable when he said this that I did my best to console him and said:
“But _surely_ the mud baths will make her all right, or why should she
take them?” And Father said: “Well, darling, we’ll hope for the best.”
We went on talking for a long time, saying that Mother must take all
possible care of herself, and that perhaps in the autumn Aunt Dora would
come here to keep house. I asked Father, “Is it true that you don’t like
Aunt Dora?” Father said: “Not a bit of it, what put that idea into
your head?” So I said: “But you do like Mother much better, don’t you?”
Father laughed and said: “You little goose, of course I do, or I should
have married Aunt Dora and not Mother.” I should have liked awfully
to ask Father a lot more, but I did not dare. I really do miss Dora,
especially in the evenings.
July 2nd. I was in a tremendous rage at school to-day. Professor W.,
the traitor, did not come because he had confession and communion in
the Gymnasium, and the matron did not know anything about the subject
so there was no one to take his class. Then the Herr Religionsprofessor
took it, he had come earlier than usual to write up the reports. But
since the Jewish girls were there too, of course there was no religion
lesson. But the H. Rel. Prof. had a chat with us. He asked each of us
where we were going to spend the summer, and when I said I was going
to Rodaun, Weinberger said: I say, _only_ to Rodaun! and several of the
other girls chimed in: _Only_ to Rodaun; why that’s only a drive on the
steam tram. I was frightfully annoyed, for we generally go to Tyrol
or Styria; I said so directly, and then Franke said: Last year too, I
think, you went somewhere quite close to Vienna, where was it, Hain--,
and then she stopped and made as if she had never heard of Hainfeld. Of
course that was all put on, but she’s very angry because we won’t speak
to her since that business about the _cousin!_ But now I was to learn
what true friendship is. While I was getting still more angry, Hella
said: Rita’s Mother is now in _Franzensbad, the world-famous health
resort_; she is ill, and Prof. Sch. has to go and see her at least
once a week. The Herr Rel. Prof. was awfully nice and said: Rodaun is
a lovely place. The air there is very fine and will certainly do your
Mother a lot of good. That’s the chief thing, isn’t it children? I hope
that God will spare all your parents for many years. When the Herr
Rel. Prof. said that, Lampel, whose Mother died last winter, burst
out crying, and I cried too, for I thought of my talk with Father.
Weinberger and Franke thought I was crying because I was annoyed because
we were only going to Rodaun. In the interval Franke said: After all,
there’s no harm in going to Rodaun, that’s no reason for crying. But
Hella said: “Excuse me, the Lainers can go anywhere they please, they
are so well off that many people might envy them. Besides, her Mother
and her sister are in Franzensbad now, where everything is frightfully
expensive, and in Rodaun they have rented a house all for themselves.
Rita is crying because she is anxious about her Mother, not because
of anything you said.” Of course we don’t speak a word to Franke now.
Mother does not want us to anyhow, she did not like her at all when she
met her last year. Mother has a fine instinct in such matters.
July 6th. We broke up to-day. I have nothing but Very Goods, except of
course in ---- Natural History! That was to be expected. What -- -- (I
can’t bring myself to write the name) said was perfectly right. Nearly
all the girls who were still there brought Frau Doktor M. and Frau
Doktor St. flowers as farewell tokens. This time, Hella and I were
allowed to go with Frau Doktor M. to the metropolitan. When we kiss her
hand she always blushes, and we love doing it. This summer holidays she
is going to -- -- -- _Germany_, of course; really Hella need not have
asked; it’s obvious!!!
July 8th. Mother and Dora are coming home today. We are going to meet
them at the station. By the way, I’d quite forgotten. The other day
Father hid a new 5 crown piece in my table napkin, and when I lifted up
my table napkin it fell out, and Father said: In part payment of your
outlay on flowers for the table. Father is such a darling, the flowers
did not cost anything like 5 crowns, 3 at most, for though they were
lovely ones, I only bought fresh ones every other day. Now I shall be
able to buy Mother lots of roses, and I shall either take them to the
station or put them on her table. On the one hand I’m awfully glad
Mother is coming home, but on the other hand I did like being alone with
Father for he always talked to me about everything just as he does to
Mother; that will come to an end now.
July 10th. Mother and Dora look splendid; I’m especially glad about
Mother; for one can see that she is quite well again. If we had not
taken the house in Rodaun, we might just as well go to Tyrol, for one
can’t deny it would be much nicer. Dora looks quite a stranger. It’s
absurd, for one can’t alter in 1 month, still, she really looks quite
different; she does her hair differently, parted over the ears. I have
had no chance yet to say anything about the “trouble,” and she has not
alluded to it. In the autumn she will have to have a special exam. for
the Sixth because she went away a month before the end of term. Father
says that is only pro forma and that she must not take any lesson books
to the country. Hella went away yesterday, she and her Mother and Lizzi
are going first to Gastein and then to stay with their uncle in Hungary.
Life is dull without Hella, much worse than without Dora; without her I
was simply bored sometimes in the evening, at bedtime. Dora gives it
out that in Franzensbad people treated her as a grown-up lady. I’m sure
that’s not true for anyone can see that she’s a long way from being a
grown-up lady yet.
July 11th. I can’t think what’s happened to Dora. When she goes out
she goes alone. She doesn’t tell me when she is going or where, and
she hasn’t said a word about Viktor. But he must know that she is back.
To-morrow we are going to Rodaun, by train of course, not by the steam
tram. The day after to-morrow, the 13th, Oswald has the viva voce exam
for his matriculation. He says that in every class there are at least
1 or several _swotters_, like Verbenowitsch in ours, he says they spoil
the pitch for the others, for, because of the swotters, the professors
expect so much more of the others and sit upon them. This may be so in
the Gymnasium, but certainly not at the High School. For though Verb. is
always sucking up to the staff, they can’t stand her; they give her good
reports, but none of them really like her. Mother says the 13th is an
unlucky day, and it makes her anxious about Oswald. Because of that she
went to High Mass yesterday instead of the 9 o’clock Mass as usual.
I never thought of praying for Oswald, and anyhow I think he’ll get
through all right.
July 13th. Thank goodness Oswald has wired he is through, that is he has
wired his favourite phrase: Finis with Jubilation. At any rate that did
not worry Mother as he did over the written exam., when he made
silly jokes all the time. He won’t be home until the 17th, for the
matriculation dinner is on the 15th. Father is awfully pleased too.
It’s lovely here; of course we have not really got a whole house to
ourselves, as Hella pretended at school, but a flat on the first story;
in the mezzanin a young married woman lives, that is to say a _newly
married couple!!_ Whenever I hear that phrase it makes me shake with
horror and laughter combined. Resi must have thought of it too, for
she looked hard at Dora and me when she told us. But they have a baby
already, so they are not really a newly married couple any more. The
landlord, who lives on the same floor as us, is having a swing put
up for me in the garden for it is horrid not to have a swing in the
country.
July 16th. At last Dora has said something to me about Viktor, but she
spoke very coldly; there must be something up; she might just as well
tell me; she really ought to seeing all that I’ve done. I have not seen
him since that last letter of June 27th; that time something must
have hap-- no that word means something quite different, there must be
something up, but I do wonder what. Hella is delighted with Gastein, she
writes that the only thing wanting is _me_. I can quite understand that,
for what I want here is _her_. Before the end of term Ada wrote to ask
whether we were not coming to H. this year; she said she had such a
frightful lot to tell me, and _she wants my advice_. I shall be very
glad to advise her, but I don’t know what it is about.