Christmas Day she was here. I see that I wrote above that the Bs. were
not well off; it seems to me to be very much the reverse. We always get
a great many things and very nice ones at Christmas and on our birthdays
and name days (of course Protestants don’t have these last), but we
don’t give one another such splendid things as the Bs. do. Hella had
been given a piece of rose-coloured silk for a dress to wear at the
dancing class which must have cost at least 50 crowns, and a lace collar
and cuffs, which we had seen at the shop, and it had cost 24 crowns,
then she had a gold ring with an emerald, and a number of smaller things
which she never even looked at. And to see all the things her sister
got, things for her _trousseau!_ And the Bs. Christmas tree cost 12
crowns whilst ours cost only 7, though ours was just as good. So I think
that the Bs. really have plenty of money, and I said to Hella: “You must
be enormously rich.” And she said: “Oh well, not so rich as all that; I
must not expect to marry an officer on the general staff. Lizzi has done
very well for herself for Paul is a baron and is very well off. He is
frantically in love with her; queer taste, isn’t it?” I quite agree, for
Lizzi has not much to boast of in the way of looks, beautiful fair hair,
but she is so awfully thin, not a trace of b -- --, Hella has much more
figure. And if one hasn’t any by the time one is 20 one is not likely to
get one.
Something awfully funny happened to-day. Hella asked me: “I say, what’s
the Christian name of that Dr. who is dangling after your sister?” Then
it struck me for the first time that on his visiting card he only has
Dr. jur. A. Pruckmuller, and then I remembered that last summer, when we
first made his acquaintance, Dora said, It’s a pity he’s called August,
the name does not suit him at all. Well, we laughed till we felt quite
ill, for of course Hella began to sing: “O du lieber Augustin,” and
then I thought of Der dumme August [clown’s nickname in circus] and we
wondered what Dora would call him. Gusti or Gustel, or Augi, my darling
Augi, my beloved Gusterl, oh dear, we were in fits of laughter. Then
we discussed what names we should like to have for our husbands, and I
said: Ewald or Leo, and Hella said: Wouldn’t you like Siegfried? But I
put my hand on her mouth and said: “Shut up, or you will make me really
angry, _that_ is and must remain forgotten.” She said what she would
like best would be to have a husband called Peter or Thamian or
Chrysostomus; then for a pet name she would use Dami or Sosti; and then
she said quite seriously that she would only marry a man called Egon, or
Alexander, or at least Georg. Just at that moment her mother came in to
call us to tea, and she said: “What’s an that about Alexander and Georg?
You are such dreadful girls. If you are alone together for a couple
of minutes (I had come at half past 2 and the Brs. have tea at 4,
and that’s what Hella’s mother calls 2 minutes), you begin to talk of
unsuitable things.” Hella was afraid her mother would think God knows
what, so she said: “Oh no, Mother, we were only discussing what names we
should like our fiances to have.” You ought to have seen how her mother
went on. “That’s just it, that when you are barely 15 (I’m not 15 yet)
you should have nothing but _such_ things in your heads!” _Such_ things,
how absurd. At tea it was almost as dull as it was the other evening
at home; for the Herr Baron was there, that is, they all say Du to one
another now, for the wedding is to be in February, as soon as it is
settled whether the Baron is to stay in London or to be transferred to
Berlin. It must be funny to say “Du” to a strange man. Hella says she
soon got used to it, and that she likes Paul well enough. When he brings
Lizzi sweets, when he is taking her to the theatre, he always gives
Hella a box for herself. _Other_ people would certainly not do that, and
I know _other_ people who wouldn’t accept it. When I got home, Father
said: Well, another time I think you’d better stay and sleep at the
Brs., and I said: I did not want to be a killjoy here. And Oswald said:
“What you need is a box on the ear,” Father was luckily out of the room
already and so I said: “_Your_ children, if you ever have any, can be
kept in order by boxing their ears till they are green and blue, but you
have no rights over your sisters, Father told you so in Fieberbrunn.”
“Oh, I know Father always backs you two up, he has done so from the
first.” “Please don’t draw me into your quarrels,” said Dora, as if she
had been something quite different from me. And then Aunt Dora said: “I
do wish you would not keep on quarreling.” “_I_ didn’t begin it,” said
I, and went away without saying goodnight; that is I went to Father’s
room to say goodnight to him and I saw Aunt Dora in the hall, but I
_didn’t_ say goodnight to Oswald and Dora, for I’m not going to put up
with _everything_. And now it’s half past 11 already, for I have been
writing such a long time, and have cried such a lot, for I’m _very_
unhappy. Even Hella doesn’t know how unhappy I am. I must go to bed
now; whether I shall sleep or not is another question. If I can possibly
manage it, I shall go alone to the cemetery to-morrow.
31st. Hella and I went to the cemetery to-day. Her father and mother
returned to Cracow yesterday evening, and she told her grandmother she
was going to spend the morning with me, and I said I was going to the
Brs., so we went alone to Potzleinsdorf. Hella went for a walk round the
cemetery while I went to darling Mother’s grave. I am so unhappy; Hella
consoles me as much as she can, but even she can’t understand.
January 1, 19--! Of course we did not keep New Year’s Eve yesterday, but
were quite alone and it was very melancholy. This morning Dr. P. brought
Dora and Aunt Dora some roses and he gave me some lovely violets as a
New Year’s greeting. He is leaving on the 4th, so he is coming here
on the evening of the 3rd. I can’t say I look forward to it. To-morrow
school begins thank goodness. I met a dust cart, that means good luck;
Father says it is a scandal the way the dirt carts go on all through the
day in Vienna, and that one should see one even on New Year’s day at 2
in the afternoon. But still, if it means _good luck!_
January 2nd. The dust cart did bring good luck. We had a real piece of
_luck_ to-day! In the big interval I noticed a little knot of girls in
the hall, and suddenly I felt as if my heart would stop beating. Frau
Doktor M., I should say Frau Professor Theyer, was standing among them,
she saw us directly and held out her hand to us so we kissed it. She has
come to visit her parents and _her husband_ is with her; since she did
not know for certain whether she would be able to come to the school she
had not written either to me or to Hella about it. She is so lovely and
so entrancingly loveable. When the bell rang for class and Frau Doktor
Dunker came in I saw that _she_ was still standing outside. So I put my
handkerchief up to my face as if my nose were bleeding, and rushed out
to her. And because I slipped and nearly fell, she held out her arms to
me. Hardly had I reached her, when Hella came out and said: “Of course I
understood directly; I said you were awfully bad, so I must go and look
after you.” Then the Frau Professor laughed like anything and said: “You
are such wicked little actresses; I must send you back immediately.” But
of course she did not but was frightfully sweet. Then we begged her
to let us stay with her, but she said: “No, no, I’ve been your teacher
here, and I must not encourage you in mischief. But here is a better
idea. Would you like to come and see me to-morrow?” “Rather,” we both
exclaimed. She said she was staying in a hotel, but we must not come
alone to a hotel, so she would see us at her parents, in Schwindgasse,
and we were to come there at 4 or half past. Then we kissed both her
hands and were so happy! To-morrow at 4! Oh dear, a whole night more and
nearly a whole day to wait. “If your parents allow you,” she said; as
if Father or even Hella’s grandmother would not allow _that!_ All Father
said was: “All right Gretel, but don’t go quite off your head first or
you won’t be able to find your way to Schwindgasse. Is Hella as crazy as
you are?” Of course, how can one be otherwise?
January 3rd. Still 2 hours, it’s awful, Hella is coming to fetch me at
half past 3. In school to-day we kept on looking at one another, and all
the other girls thought it must be something to do with a man. Goodness,
what do we care about a man now! We had a splendid idea, that we had
just time to make a memento for _her_, since she does not leave until
the evening of the 5th. I am having traced on a piece of yellow silk
for a book marker an edelweiss and her monogram E. T., the new one of
course. Hella is painting a paperknife in imitation of tarsia mosaic.
I would rather have done something of that sort too, but I have no
patience for such work, so I often spoil it before I’ve finished. But
one can’t very well spoil a piece of embroidery. But I shan’t get the
tracing on the silk back from the shop until half past 3, so I shall
have to work all night and the whole day to-morrow.
Evening. Thank goodness and confound it, whichever way you like to
take it, the idiot at the shop had forgotten about the bookmarker and I
shan’t get it until to-morrow morning early. So I’m able to write now:
It was heavenly! We had to walk up and down in front of her house for
at least half an hour, until at last it was 5 minutes past 4. She was so
sweet to us! She wanted to say Sie to us, but we _simply would not
have it_, and so she said Du as she used to. We talked of all sorts of
things, I don’t know what, only that I suddenly burst out crying, and
then she drew me to her b -- --, no, I can’t write that about her; she
drew me to herself and than I felt _her heart beating!_ and went almost
crazy. Hella says that I put both my arms round her neck, but I’m sure
that’s all imagination, for I should never have dared. She has such
fascinating hands, and the _wedding ring_ glistens so on her divine
ring finger. Of course we talked about the school, and then she suddenly
said: Tell me what really happened about those compositions, when half
the class deliberately refrained from putting any punctuation marks.
“Oh,” we said, “that is a frightful cram, it wasn’t _half_ the class,
but only 6 of us who have a special veneration for you.” Then we told
her how it all came about. She laughed a little, and said: “Well, girls,
you did not do me any particular _service_. It really was a great piece
of impertinence.” But I said: “Prof. Fritsch’s remarks were 10 times
more impertinent, for they related to another member of the staff, and
what was worse to you.” Then she said: “My darling girls, that often
happens in life, that the absent are given a bad reputation, whether
justly or unjustly; one is liable to that in every profession.” Hella
said that the head mistress was not like that or there would have been a
frightful row, since the matter had become known in all the High Schools
of Vienna. Then Frau Doktor M. said: “Yes, the Frau Direktorin is really
a splendid woman.” Then there came something glorious, or really 2
glorious things: (1). She gave us some magnificent sweets, better than I
have ever eaten before. Hella agrees, and we are really connoisseurs in
the matter of sweets. The second thing, even more glorious, was this:
after we had been there some time, there was a knock at the door and in
came _her_ husband, the Herr Prof., and said: “How are you my treasure?”
and to us: “Goodday, young _ladies_.” Then she introduced us, saying:
“Two of my best-loved pupils and my most faithful adherents.” Then the
Herr Prof. laughed a great deal and said: “That can’t be said of all
pupils.” So I said quickly: “Oh yes, it can be said of Frau Doktor, the
whole class would go through fire for her.” Then he went away, and she
said: “Excuse me for a moment,” and we could hear quite plainly that _he
kissed her_ in the next room, and then she said as she came in again:
“Oh well, be off with you, Karl, goodbye.” It’s a pity his name is Karl,
it’s so prosaic, and he calls her Lise, and I expect when they are alone
he calls her Lieschen, since he is a North German. I must go to bed,
it’s half past 11 already. To be continued to-morrow. Sleep well, my
sweet glorious ecstatic golden and only treasure! God, I am so happy.
January 6th. Thank goodness to-day is a holiday, and we can’t go
tobogganing because Dora has a _chill!!!_ I got the bookmarker on the
4th, worked at it all day and up till midnight, and yesterday I got up
at half past 5, went on working the whole morning, and at 2 o’clock we
took our mementoes to the house. Though we should have liked to give
them to her ourselves, we didn’t, but only gave them to the maid. She
said: Shall I show you in? but Hella said: “No, thank you, we don’t want
to disturb Frau Theyer, and when I reproached her for this she said: Oh
no, it was better not; you are quite upset anyhow, you know what _she_
said: But my dear child, you will make yourself ill; you must not do
that on _my_ account!” Oh dear, I’m crying so that I can hardly write,
but I _must_ write, for there is still so much that’s glorious to put
down, things that I must never, never forget, even if it should take me
a week to write. The great thing is that I shall simply live upon this
memory, and the only thing I want in life is that I may see _her_ once
more. Of course we took her some flowers on Friday, I lilies of the
valley with violets and tuberoses, and Hella Christmas roses. She was
delighted, and went directly to fetch 2 vases which her mother brought
in. She is as small as Frau Richter, and her hair is grey, she is
charming; but she is not in the least like Frau Doktor M. When we said
goodbye she offered us still more sweets, but since we were both nearly
crying already we did not want to take any more, but she wrapped them
nearly all up for us, saying: “To console you in your sorrow.” From
anyone else it might have sounded ironical, but from her it was simply
lovely. There were 17 large sweets, and Hella gave me 9 of them and took
only 8 for herself. I shall eat only one every day, so that they will
last me 9 days. _Joy and sorrow combined!!_ Hella is not so frightfully
in love as I am, and yesterday she said, in joke of course: “It seems to
me that your whole world is foundered; I must pull you out, or you’ll
be drowned.” And then she asked me how I could have been so stupid as to
use the word _honeymoon_ to _her_, although she hemmed to warn me.
She said it really was utterly idiotic of me, and that the Frau Prof.
blushed. I did not notice it myself, but when her _husband_ came in, she
certainly did flush up like anything. Hella and I talked of quite a lot
of _other things of that sort_. I should so much have liked to ask her
whether she has given up going to church, for I think the Herr Prof.
really is a Jew, though he does not _look_ like one. For lots of other
men wear black beards. But I did not venture to ask, and Hella thinks
it is a very good thing I did not, for one _does not talk about such
things_. I wonder _whether she will have a baby_? Oh, it would be
horrible. Of course she may have entered into a _marriage_ contract,
that would have been the best way. However, Hella thinks that the
professor would not have agreed to anything of the kind. But surely if
he was frantically in love with her . . .
January 1 5th. The girls in our class are frantically jealous. We did
not say in so many words that we, alone among them all, had been invited
to see her, but Hella had brought one of the sweets she had given us and
in the interval she said: This must be eaten reverently, and she cut it
in two to give me half. The Ehrenfelds thought it must have been given
by some acquaintance made at the skating rink, and Trude said: “Doubly
sweetened, by chocolate and love.” “Yes,” said I, “but not in the sense
you imagine.” And since she said: “Oh, of course, I know all about that,
but I don’t want to be indiscreet,” Hella said: “I may as well tell you
that Frau Doktor M., or I should say the _married_ Frau Prof. Theyer,
gave us this sweet and a great many more on the day she had invited
us to go and see her.” Then they were all utterly kerblunxed and
said: “Great Scott, what luck, but you always were Frau Doktor M.’s
favourites, especially Lainer. But Lainer always courted Frau Doktor M.”
January 17th. The whole school knows about our being invited to see her,
the glorious one! I’ve just been reading it over, and I see that I have
left a frightful lot out, especially about her father. When we were
leaving, just outside the house door we burst out crying because as
I opened the door I had said, For the last time! Just then an old
gentleman came up and was about to go in, and when he saw that we were
crying, though we were standing quite in the shadow, he came up to us
and asked what was the matter. Then Hella said: “We have lost out best
friend.” Then the old gentleman looked at us for a tremendously long
time and said: “I say, do you happen to be the two ardent admirers of
Frau Doktor Mallburg? She is my daughter, you know. And then he said:
But you really can’t go through the streets bathed in tears like that.
Come upstairs again with me and my daughter will console you.” So we
really did go upstairs again, and she was perfectly unique. Her father
opened the door and called out: Lieserl, your admirers simply can’t part
from you, and I found them being washed out to sea in a river of tears.
Then she came out wearing a _rose-coloured dressing-gown!!!_ exquisite.
And she led us into the room and said: “Girls, you must not look at me
in this old rag, which is only fit to throw away.” I should have liked
to say: “Give it to _me_ then.” But of course I could not. And when we
made our final goodbye, perhaps _for ever_, she kissed each of us _twice
over_ and said: Girls, I wish you all the happiness in the world!
January 18th. Hella invited me there to-day, to meet Lajos and Jeno. But
I’m not going, for Jeno does not interest me in the very least. That
was not a _real_ love. I don’t care for anyone in the whole world except
her, my one and only! Even Hella can’t understand that, in fact she
thinks it _dotty_. Father wanted me to go to Hella’s _to change the
current of my thoughts_. Of course I hardly say a word about _her_ to
anyone, for no one understands me. But I never could have believed that
Father would be just like anyone else. It’s quite true that I’m getting
thin. I’m so glad that we are not going tobogganing to-day because Dora
has a chill, a _real_ chill this time. So I am going to the church in
Schwindgasse and shall walk up and down in front of _her_ house; perhaps
I shall meet her father or her mother. I wrote to her the day before
yesterday.
January 24th. I am so happy. She wrote to me _by return!_ This is the
second letter I have had from her! At dinner to-day Father said: “Hullo,
Gretel, why are you looking so happy to-day? I have not seen you with
such a sunny face for a long time.” So I answered in as few words as
possible: “After dinner I will tell _you_ why.” For the others need not
know anything about it. And when I told Father vaguely that Frau Prof.
Th. had written to me, Father said: “Oh, is _that_ what has pleased you
so much. But I have something up my sleeve which will also please you.
February 1st and 2nd are Sunday and Monday, you have 2 days free, and if
you and Hella can get a day off from school on Saturday we might make an
excursion to Mariazell. How does that strike you?” It would be glorious,
if only Hella is allowed to come, for her grandmother imagines that the
sore throat she had before Christmas was due to the tobogganing on the
Anninger, where the sole was torn off her shoe! As if _we_ could help
that. Still, by good luck she may have forgotten it; she is 63 already,
and one forgets a lot when one is that age.
Evening. Hella may come; it will be splendid! Perhaps we shall try a
little skiing. But really Hella is a horrid pig; she said: “All right,
I’ll come, if you’ll promise not to be continually talking about Frau
Professor Th. I’m very fond of her too, but you are simply crazy about
her.” It’s really too bad, and I shall never mention _her_ name to
the others any more. I am looking forward so to the tobogganing at
Mariazell. We’ve never made any such excursion in winter before. Hurrah,
it will be glorious! Oh I do wish the 31st of January were here; I’m
frantically excited.
EDITOR’S NOTE
Rita’s joyful expectations of tobogganing among glistening snow-clad
hills, remained unfulfilled. The rude hand of fate was thrust into the
lives of the two sisters. On January 29th their father, suddenly struck
down with paralysis, was brought home in an ambulance, and died in a few
hours without recovering consciousness.
Torn from the sheltering and affectionate atmosphere of home, separated
from her most intimate friend, the young orphan had to struggle for
peace of soul in the isolation of a provincial town -- -- --
End of Project Gutenberg’s A Young Girl’s Diary, by An Anonymous Young Girl