will not allow us to choose our confessors, I had to go to Professor
Ruppy. I did hate it. I whispered so low that he had to tell me to speak
louder three times over. When I began about the sixth commandment he
covered his eyes with his hand. But thank goodness he did not ask any
questions about that. The only one of the staff who used to allow us to
choose our confessors was Frau Doktor M. Really, she did not allow
it directly but when one ran quickly to another confessional box, she
pretended not to notice. The Herr Rel. Prof gives frightfully long
penances; all the girls who went to him took a tremendous time to get
through. I do hope he won’t be so strict over his examinations or I
shall get an Unsatisfactory; that would be awful. October 3rd. Father
was so splendid to-day! Aunt Dora must have told him that I asked
her not long ago whether Father was likely to marry Frau Riedl, whose
husband died almost exactly the same time as Mother, for Father is
guardian to her three children. She was here to-day with Willi, because
he has just begun going to school. Dora and I talked it over, and
she said that if Father married Frau R., she would leave home. In the
evening when we were at supper, I said: “If only Frau v. R. was not
so ugly. Father, don’t you think she’s perfectly hideous? And Father
laughed so lovingly and said: You need not be anxious, little witch,
I’m not going to inflict a stepmother on you.” I was so glad, and so was
Dora and we kissed Father such a lot, and Dora said: “I felt sure that
you would never break your oath to Mother,” and she burst out crying.
And Father said: “No, girls, I did not give any promise to your Mother,
she would never have asked anything of the kind. But with grown girls
like you it would never do to bring a stepmother into the house.” And
then I told Father that Dora would have gone away from home, and as
for me, I should certainly have been frightfully upset. For _if_ Father
really wanted _to marry_ again _I_ should have to put up with it; and so
would Dora. But Father said once more: “Don’t worry, I certainly shan’t
marry again.” And I said: “Not even Aunt Dora?” And he said: “Oh, as
for her -- --” And then he pulled himself up and said: “No, no, not even
Aunt Dora.” Dora has just told me that I am a perfect idiot, for surely
I must know that Father is not particularly charmed by Aunt. And then
she blamed me for having told Father that she would leave home if he
were to marry again. _I am a child_ to whom it is impossible to entrust
any secrets!! Now we have been quarrelling for at least three quarters
of an hour, so it is already half past 11. Luckily to-morrow is a
holiday, because of the Emperor’s birthday. But I am so glad to know for
certain that Father is not going to marry Frau v. R I could never get on
with a stepmother.
October 9th. It’s horribly difficult in German this year. In composition
we are not allowed to make any rough notes, we have to write it straight
off and then _hand it in_. I simply can’t. Professor Fritsch is very
handsome, but the girls are terribly afraid of him for he is so strict.
His wife is in an asylum and his children live with his mother. He
has got a divorce from his wife, and since he has the luck to be
a Protestant he can marry again if he wants to. Hella is perfectly
fascinated by him, but I’m not in the least. For I always think of Prof.
W. in the Second, and that’s enough for me. I’m not going to fall in
love with any more professors. In the Training College, where Marina is
now, in her fourth year one of the professors last year married a former
pupil. I would not do that at any price, marry a former professor,
who knows all one’s faults. Besides, he must be at least 12 or 20 years
older than the girl; and that’s perfectly horrible, one might as well
marry one’s father; he would be at least fond of her, and she would at
least know the way he likes to have everything done; but to marry one’s
former professor, what an extraordinary thing to do!
October 15th. I’m frightfully anxious that Hella may have a relapse;
she says that nothing would induce her to have a second operation,
especially now that -- -- --; she says she would rather die. That would
be awful! I did my best to persuade her to tell her mother that she has
such pain; but she won’t.
October 19th. In November, Hella’s father will be made a general and
will be stationed in Cracow. Thank goodness she is going to stay here
with her grandmother until she leaves the Lyz. She will only go to
Cracow at Christmas and Easter and in the summer holidays. She is
frantically delighted. The good news has made her quite well again.
Everyone at school is very proud that there will be a general’s daughter
in our class. It’s true that there is a field-marshal’s daughter in the
Third, but he is retired. Father always says: Nobody makes any fuss over
a retired officer.
October 22nd. We are so much excited that we’ve hardly any time to learn
our lessons. At Christmas last year some one gave Hella’s mother several
of Geierstamm’s novels. The other day one of them was lying on the
table, and when her mother was out Hella had a hurried look at it and
read the title _The Power of Woman!!!_ When her mother had finished
it, she watched to see where it was put in the bookcase, and now we are
reading it. It’s simply wonderful! It keeps me awake all night; Signe
whom he is so passionately fond of and who deceives him. We cried so
much that we could not go on reading. And Gretchen, the girl, to whom
her father is everything; I can understand so well that she is always
anxious lest her father should marry that horrid Frau Elise, although
she has a husband already. And when she dies, oh, it’s so horrible and
so beautiful that we read it over three times in succession. The other
day my eyes were quite red from crying, and Aunt said I must be working
too hard; for she thinks that Hella and I are studying literature
together. Oh dear, lessons are an awful nuisance when one has _such_
books to read.
October 24th. When I look at Father I always think of the novel _The
Power of Woman_; of course leaving Signe out of account. Hella hopes
she’ll be able to get hold of some other book, but it’s not so easy to
do without her mother finding it out, for she often lends books to her
friends. Then there would be an awful row. We certainly don’t want to
read _The Little Brother’s Book_, the title does not attract us; but
there’s a novel called _The Comedy of Marriage_, it must be splendid; we
_must_ get that whatever happens.
October 26th. The Bruckners are going to keep on their flat, and Hella’s
grandmother will come and live there; only the Herr _General!!!_ is
going to C., and of course Hella’s mother too. Lizzi will stay, for she
is taking cooking lessons, since she is to be _married_ in Mid-Lent.
October 31st. Hella’s parents left to-day, she cried frightfully, for
she did so want to go with them. Lizzi was quite unconcerned, for she
is engaged already, and the Baron, her fiance, is coming at Christmas,
either to Vienna or Cracow; he does not care which.
November 4th. Some of the girls in our class were furious in the German
lesson to-day. One or two of the girls did not know the proper places
for commas, and Prof. Fritsch hinted that we had learned nothing at all
in previous years. We understood perfectly well that he was aiming at
Frau Doktor M., whose German lessons were 10 times or rather 100 times
better than Professor F.’s. And on this very matter of punctuation Frau
Doktor M. took a tremendous lot of trouble and gave us lots of examples.
Besides, whether one has a good style or not does not depend upon
whether one puts a _comma_ in the right place. The two Ehrenfelds, who
towards the end were awfully fond of Frau Doktor M., say that we, who
were Frau Doktor M.’s favourites, ought to write a composition without a
single comma, just to show him. That’s a splendid idea, and Hella and I
will do it like a shot if only the others can be trusted to do it too.
November 6th. This year all the classes _must_ have at least two outings
every month, even in winter. If that had been decided in the last school
year, when Frau Doktor M. was still there, I should certainly have gone
every time. But this year, when she has left, we can’t enjoy it. Frau
Doktor St. is awfully nice, but not like Frau Doktor M. Besides, we go
somewhere with Father every Sunday, Hella comes with us, and Lizzi if
she likes. As soon as the snow comes we are going to have tobogganing
parties at Hainfeld or Lilienfeld.
December 3rd. Nearly a whole month has passed without my writing, but I
must write to-day! There’s been such a row in the German lesson!! We got
back the compositions in which Hella and I, the 2 Ehrenfelds, Brauner,
Edith Bergler, and Kuhnelt, had not put a single comma. Nothing would
have been found out had not that idiot Brauner put in commas first
and then scratched them out. We had agreed that if the Prof. noticed
anything we would say we had meant to go through them together before
the lesson, and to decide where to put in commas, but that we had had no
time. Now the silly fool has given away the whole show. He is going to
bring the matter before the staff meeting. But after all, it’s simply
_impossible_ to give 6 girls out of 25 a bad conduct mark.
December 4th. The head mistress came to inspect the German lesson
to-day. Afterwards she said that she expected us to make all the
knowledge which Frau Doktor M. had instilled into us for 3 years, the
firm foundation of our further development in the higher classes. In the
English lesson she referred to the more restricted use of punctuation
marks in English; and afterwards we 6 _sinners_ were summoned to the
office. The whole school knew about the trouble and was astonished at
our courage, especially the lower classes; the Fifth and the Sixth were
rather annoyed that we in the Fourth had dared to do it. The head
gave us a terrible scolding, saying that it was an unexampled piece
of impudence, and that we were not doing credit to Frau Doktor M. Then
Hella said very modestly: “Frau Direktorin, will you please allow me to
say a word in our defence?” Then she explained that Prof. Fritsch never
missed a chance of casting a slur upon Frau Doktor M., not in plain
words of course, but so that we could not fail to understand it, and
that was why we acted as we did. The head answered we must certainly be
mistaken, that no member of the staff could ever speak against another
in such a way we had simply misunderstood Prof Fritsch! But we know
perfectly well how often the Nutling used to say in the Maths lesson:
“Don’t you know _that_? Surely you _must_ have been taught that.” The
emphasis does it!!!!! The staff meeting is to-morrow, and we were told
to do our best to make amends before the meeting. The 2 Ehrenfelds
suggested that we should write the compositions over again, of course
with all the commas, and should place them on his desk to-morrow morning
before the German lesson; but all the rest of us were against this, for
we saw plainly that the head had changed colour when Hella said what
she did. We shall make the corrections and then we shall all begin new
copybooks.
December 8th. It is 3 days now since the staff meeting, but not a word
has been said yet about our affair, and in the German lesson yesterday
the Prof. gave out the subject for the third piece of home work without
saying anything in particular. I think he is afraid to. Hella has saved
us all, for everyone else would have been afraid to say what she did,
even I. Hella said: “My dear Rita, I’m not an officer’s daughter for
nothing;” if _I_ have not courage, who should have? The girls stare at us
in the interval and whenever they meet us, though in the office the head
said to us: “I do hope that this business will not be spread all over
the school.” But Brauner has a sister in the Second and Edith Bergler’s
sister is in the Fifth and through them all the classes have heard about
it. I suppose nothing is going to be said to our parents or something
would have happened already. Besides, to be on the safe side, I have
already dropped a few hints at home. And since Dora, thank goodness, is
no longer at the school, it is impossible that there can be much fuss.
It was only at first that we were alarmed, but Hella was quite right
when she said: “I’m sure nothing will happen to us, for _we are in the
right_.”
December 15th. A meeting with Viktor!!! Dora and I had gone to do our
Christmas shopping, and we came across him just as we had turned into
Tuchlauben. Dora got fiery red, and both their _voices trembled_. He
does look fine, with his black moustache and his flashing eyes! And the
green facings on his tunic suit him splendidly. He cleared his throat
quickly to cover his embarrassment, and walked with us as far as the
Upper Market-place; he has another six-months furlough because of throat
trouble; so Dora can be quite easy in her mind in case she fancied that
-- -- -- -- --. When he said goodbye he kissed our hands, _mine as well
as Dora’s_, and smiled so sweetly, sadly and sweetly at the same time.
Several times I wanted to turn the conversation upon him. But when Dora
does not want a thing, you can do what you like and she won’t budge;
she’s as obstinate as a mule! She’s always been like that since she was
quite a little girl, when she used to say: Dor not! That meant: Dora
won’t; little wretch! such a wilful little beast!
December 17th. Yesterday we had our first tobogganing party on the
Anninger; it was glorious, we kept on tumbling into the snow; the snow
lay fairly thick, especially up there, where hardly anyone comes. As we
were going home such a ridiculous thing happened to Hella; she caught
her foot on a snag and tore off the whole sole of a brand new shoe. She
had to tie it on with a string, and even then she limped so badly
that every one believed she had sprained her ankle tobogganing.
Her grandmother was frightfully angry and said: “That comes of such
_unladylike_ amusements!” Aunt Dora was very much upset, for she had
been with us, but Father said: Hella’s grandmother is quite an old lady,
and in her day people had very different views in this respect. I should
say so, _in this respect_, Hella finds it out a dozen times a day, all
the things she must not say and must not do, and all the things which
are unsuitable for young girls! Her grandmother would like to keep her
under a glass shade; but not a transparent one, for she must not be able
to see out, and _no one_ must be able to see _in_. (The last is the main
point.)
December 20th. To-day was the last German lesson before Christmas,
and not a word more has been said about our affair. Hella has proved
splendidly right. Even Verbenowitsch, who curries favour with every
member of the staff, has congratulated her, and so has Hammer, who is
a newcomer and did not know Frau Doktor M. By the way, at 1 o’clock the
other day we met Franke; she goes now to a school of dramatic art, and
says that the whole tone of the place is utterly different, she is so
glad to have done with the High School. She had heard of the affair
with Prof. F. and she congratulated us upon our _strength of character_,
especially Hella of course. She says that the matter is common talk in
all the High Schools of Vienna, at least she heard of it from a girl at
the High School for the Daughters of Civil Servants, a girl whose sister
is at the School of Dramatic Art. She is very happy there, but she is
annoyed that such an institution should still be called a school; it’s
not a _school_ in the least; we would be astonished to see how free they
all are. She is very pretty and has even more figure than she used
to have. She speaks very prettily too, but rather too loudly, so that
everyone turned round to look at us. She hopes that she will be able to
invite us to see her debut in _one year!!!_ I should never be able to
stand on a stage before a lot of strangers, I know I would never be able
to get a word out.
December 21st. Hella is awfully unlucky. The day before yesterday she
got such bad influenza and sore throat that she can’t go to Cracow. She
says she is born to ill luck; this is the second Christmas that has been
spoiled, two years ago the appendicitis operation, and now this wretched
influenza. She hopes her mother will come to Vienna, but if so her
father will be left quite alone. And how on earth shall we get on,
Christmas without Mother, the first Christmas without Mother. I simply
don’t dare to think of it, for if I did it would make me cry. Dora says
too that it can’t be a proper Christmas without Mother. I wonder what
Father will say when he sees Mother’s portrait. I do hope the frame will
be ready to-morrow. Hella is especially unhappy because she is not able
to see Lajos. Besides, she is madly in love at the same time with a
lieutenant of dragoons whom we meet every day and who is a count, and
he is madly in love with her. He knows that her father is a general, for
when her father went to kiss the Emperor’s hand he took Hella part of
the way with him in the motor, and she was introduced to the lieutenant
then. So now he salutes her when they meet. He is tremendously tall and
looks fearfully aristocratic. But what annoys me with Hella is that she
_invariably_ denies it when she is in love with anyone. I always tell
her, or if she notices anything I don’t deny it. What’s the sense of it
between friends? for example, the year before last she was certainly
in love with the young doctor in the hospital. And in September when
we came back from Theben with that magnificent lieutenant in the flying
corps, I made no secret of the fact that I was frantically in love with
him. But she did not believe me, and said: That is not real love, when
people don’t see one another for months and flirt with others between
whiles. That was aimed at Hero Siegfried. Goodness me, at him!! it’s
really too absurd.
December 22nd. I am so delighted, Frau Doktor M., at least she is Frau
Professor Theyer now, has written to me. I had sent her Christmas good
wishes, and she sent a line to thank me, and at the same time she wished
me a happy New Year, _she took the lead in this_; it was heavenly. I was
frightfully annoyed because Dora said that she had done it only to save
herself the trouble of writing again; I’m sure that’s not true. Dora
always says things like that simply to annoy me. But her sweet, her
divine letter, I carry it about with me wherever I go, and _her_
photograph too. She sent Hella only a card, naturally, for that was
all Hella had sent her. I can quite well fancy Frau Doktor M. as a
stepmother, that is, not quite well, but better than anyone else. She
wrote so sweetly about Mother, saying that of course I should find this
Christmas less happy than usual. She is certainly right there. We can
none of us feel as if the day after to-morrow is to be Christmas Eve.
The only thing that I really enjoy thinking of is the way Father will
stare when he sees the portrait. But really in the first years after
such a loss one ought not to keep Christmas, for on such days one feels
one’s sadness more than ever.
December 23rd. I have still a frightful lot to do for Christmas, but I
must write to-day. There was a ring at the front door this morning at
about half past 11. I thought it must be Hella come to fetch me, that
she must be all right again, so I rushed out, tore the door open,
prepared to greet Hella, and then I was simply kerblunxed, for there was
a gentleman standing who asked most politely: Is anyone at home? I knew
him in a moment, it was that Dr. Pruckmuller from Fieberbr. Meanwhile
Dora had opened the drawing-room door, and now came the great proof of
deceitfulness: She was _not in the least_ surprised, but said: “Ah, Dr.
Pruckmuller, I am so glad you have kept your word.” So it was plain that
he had promised her to come, and I am practically sure she knew he was
coming _to-day_, for she was wearing her best black silk apron with
the insertions, such as we only wear when visitors are expected. What a
humbug she is! So I went into the drawing-room too. Then Aunt Dora came
in and asked him to supper this evening. Then he went away. All the time
he had not said a word to me, it seemed as if he had not even noticed
that there was such a person as me in the world Not until he was
actually leaving did he say: “Well; Fraulein, how are you?” “Oh well,”
said I, “I’m much as anyone can expect to be so soon after Mother’s
death.” Dora got as red as fire, for she understood. I shall know how to
treat him _if_ he becomes my brother-in-law. But that may be a long way
off; for he lives in Innsbruck, and Father is not likely to allow Dora
to marry away to Innsbruck. At dinner I hardly said a word, I was so
enraged at this deceitfulness. But there is more to come. At 7, or
whatever time it was, Dr. Pruckmuller turned up. Dora appeared in a
white blouse with a black bow, and had remained in her room till the
last minute so that I might not know what she was wearing. For I had
believed she would wear her black dress with the insertions, and so I
was wearing mine. Oh well, that did not matter. At supper he talked all
the time to Dora, so I purposely talked to Oswald. Then he said that on
March 1st he was going to be transferred to Vienna. Once more Dora was
not in the least astonished, so _she must have known all about it!_ But
now I remember quite well that in October the postman handed me a letter
for her with the Innsbruck postmark. So she was _corresponding with
him openly the whole time_, less than 6 months after Mother’s death.
It really is too bad! But when I was chattering about the country, she
kicked me under the table as a hint not to laugh so frightfully. And
when my brother-in-law in spe, oh how it does make me laugh, two or
three years ago, in Goisern I think it was, we used to call Dora Inspe,
because she had said of Robert Warth and me: The bridal pair in spe! And
now she is in the same position. When he went away in the evening I was
trembling lest Father should invite him to the Christmas tree, but
thank goodness when Father asked: “What are you doing with yourself
to-morrow,” he answered: “To-morrow I am spending the day with my
sister’s family, she is married to a captain out Wieden way.” Thank
goodness that came to nothing, for we are not at all in the mood for
visitors, especially the first Christmas without Mother. And if she knew
-- -- -- I wish I knew what really happens to the soul. Of course I gave
up believing in Heaven long ago; but the soul must go somewhere. There
are so many riddles, and they make one so unhappy; in a newspaper
feuilleton the other day I saw the title of a chapter: _The Riddle of
Love_. But _this_ riddle does not make people sad, as one can see by
Dora. Anyhow, all girls, that is all elder sisters, seem alike in this
respect. I remember what Hella told me about Lizzi’s engagement. It is
true, she had first made his acquaintance in London, not at home; but
there was just the same deceitfulness. What on earth does it mean?
Would it not be much more kindly and reasonable to tell your sister
_everything_? Otherwise how can anyone expect one to be an ally. Oh
well, _I_ don’t care, I’m not going to let my Christmas Eve be disturbed
by a thing _like that_; if one can call it a _Christmas Eve_ at all.
On Boxing Day, when he is to spend the evening here, I shall tell Hella
that I want to come to her and her grandmother. After all, I am glad she
has stayed in Vienna.
December 25th. Christmas Eve was _very_ melancholy. We all three got
Mother’s picture, life size in beautiful green frames, for our rooms.
Dora sobbed out loud, and so I cried too and went up to Father and put
my arms around him. His eyes were quite wet; for he adored Mother. Only
Oswald did not actually cry, but he kept on biting his lips. I was so
glad that Dr. P. was not there, for it is horribly disagreeable to cry
before strangers. We _both_ got lovely white guipure blouses, not lace
blouses, then Aunt gave me a splendid album for 500 postcards, and
she also gave me an anthology which I had asked for. Brahms’ Hungarian
Dances, because Dora would not lend me hers last year because she said
they were too difficult for me; as if _that_ were any business of hers;
surely my music mistress is a better judge; then some writing paper
with my monogram, a new en-tout-cas with everything complete, and hair
ribbons and other trifles. Father was awfully delighted with Mother’s
portrait; of course we had not known that he was getting us life-size
portraits of Mother, and from the last photograph of the winter before
last we had quite a small likeness painted by Herr Milanowitz, who is a
painter, and who knew Mother very well--in colour of course. And we got
a lovely rococo frame to close up; when it is open it looks as if Mother
were looking out of the window. That was _my_ idea, and Herr Milanowitz
thought it _most original_. Dora considered it very awkward that he
would not take any money for it, but it made it possible for us to get a
much more elegant frame. After Christmas; for New Year, we are going
to send Herr M. some of the best cigars, bought with _our own_ money,
I wanted to send them for Christmas, but we don’t know anything about
cigars, and we did not want to tell anyone because one can never know
whether one won’t be betrayed and you will be told it is unintentional;
but that is not true, for when one betrays anything one has always
secretly intended to do so; and then one says it was a slip of the
tongue; but one really knows all the time. I can’t write down all the
extra things that Dora got, only one of them: At 7 o’clock just when
Father was lighting the candles on the tree, a commissionaire brought
some lovely roses with two sprays of mistletoe interwoven and beneath a
nosegay of violets -- -- -- of course from Dr. P. with a card, but she
would not let anyone read that. All she said was: “Dr. P. sends
everyone Christmas greetings; I believe he had really written: _Merry_
Christmas,” but Dora did not dare to say _that_. Oh, and Hella gave me
a bead bag, and I gave her a purse with the double eagle on it, for she
wanted a purse that would have a military look. I never knew anyone with
such an enthusiasm for the army as Hella; certainly I think officers
look awfully smart; but surely it’s going too far when she feels that
other men practically don’t exist. The others have to learn a lot, for
example doctors, lawyers, mining engineers, not to speak of students
at the College of Agriculture, for perhaps these last “hardly count”
(that’s the phrase Hella is always using); but all of them have to learn
a great deal more than officers do; Hella never will admit that, and
always begins to talk of the officers of the general staff; as if they
_all_ belonged to the general staff! We have often argued about it.
Still, I do hope she will get an officer for her husband, of course one
who is well enough off to marry, for otherwise it’s no go; for Father
says the Bruckners have no private means. It’s true he always says that
of us too, but I don’t believe it; we are not so to say rich, but I
fancy we should both of us have enough money for an officer to be able
to marry us. Anyhow, Dora voluntarily renounces that possibility, _if_
she is really going to marry Dr. P.