SECOND YEAR, AGE TWELVE TO THIRTEEN (continued 2)

May 30th. Dora and Mother are going to Franzensbad on June 6th, directly after Whitsuntide. Dora has got another new coat and skirt, grey with blue stripes; yesterday our white straw hats came, it suits me very well says Hella and everyone, with white ribbons and wild roses. There might have been a fearful row about what’s just happened. When I went to telephone I had my Christmas umbrella with the rose-quartz handle and I left it in the telephone box; the girl in the tobacco shop found it there, and as she knows me she brought it here and gave it to the porter who brought it upstairs. Thank goodness it occurred to me at once to say that I went into the tobacco shop to buy stamps and I must have left it in the shop. No one noticed anything.

May 31st. They wanted me to go and stay with Hella for the month when Mother and Dora are away. It would be awfully nice, but I’m not going to, for I want to stay with Father. What would he do all alone at meal times, and whom would he have to talk to in the evenings? Father was really quite touched when I said this and he stroked my hair as he can and no one else, not even Mother. So I’m going to stay at home whatever happens. Flowers are very cheap now, so I shall put different flowers on the table every day, I shall go to the Market every day to buy a little posy, so that they can always be fresh. It would be stupid for me to go to the Brs., why should I, Resi has been with us for such a long time, she knows how to do everything even if Mother is not there and everything else I can arrange. Father won’t want for anything.

June 1st. We’ve had such an experience to-day! It’s awful; it’s quite true then that one takes off every stitch when one is madly fond of anyone. I never really believed it, and I’m sure Dora did not, although Mad. hinted it to her; but it’s true. We’ve seen it with our own eyes. I was just sitting and reading Storm’s The Rider of the Grey Horse and Dora was arranging some writing paper to take to Franzensbad when Resi came and said: Fraulein Dora, please come here a moment, I want you to look at something! From the tone of her voice I saw there was something up so I went too. At first Resi would not say what it was but Dora was generous and said: “It’s all right, you can say everything before her.” Then we went into Resi’s room and from behind the curtain peeped into the mezzanin. A young married couple live there!!! At least Resi says people say they are not really married, but simply live together!!!! And what we saw was awful. She was absolutely naked lying in bed without any of the clothes on, and he was kneeling by the bedside quite n— too, and he kissed her all over, everywhere!!! Dora said afterwards it made her feel quite sick. And then he stood up—no, I can’t write it, it’s too awful, I shall never forget it. So that’s the way of it, it’s simply frightful. I could never have believed it. Dora went as white as a sheet and trembled so that Resi was terribly frightened. I nearly cried with horror, and yet I could not help laughing too. I was really afraid he would stifle her because he’s so big and she’s so small. And Resi says he is certainly much too big for her, and that he nearly tears her. I don’t know why he should tear her but certainly he might have crushed her. Dora was so terrified she had to sit down and Resi hurried to get her a glass of water, because she believed she was going to faint. I had not imagined it was anything like that, and Dora certainly had not either. Or she would never have trembled so. Still I really don’t see why she should tremble like that. There is no reason to be frightened, one simply need not marry, and then one need never strip off every stitch, and oh dear, poor Mademoiselle who is so small and the lieutenant is very tall. But just think if anyone is as fat as Herr Richter or our landlord. Of course Herr Richter is at least 50, but last January the landlord had another little girl, so something must have happened. No, I’m sure it’s best not to marry, for it is really too awful. We did not look any more for then came the worst, suddenly Dora began to be actually sick, so that she could hardly get back to our room. If she had not been able to, everything would have come out. Mother sent for the doctor directly and he said that Dora was very much overworked; that it was a good thing she was going away from Vienna in a few days. No girl ought to study, it does not pay. Then he said to me: “You don’t look up to much either. What are you so hollow-eyed for?” “I’m so frightened about Dora,” I said. “Fiddlededee,” said the doctor, “that does not give anyone black rings round the eyes.” So it must be true that one gets to look ill when one always has to think about such things. But how can one help it, and Hella says: It’s awfully interesting to have black rings under the eyes and men like it.

We were going to make an excursion to-morrow to Kahlenberg and Hermannskogel, but probably it won’t come off. Its 11 already and I’m fearfully tired from writing so much; I must go to bed. I do hope I Shall be able to sleep, but — — — —

June 3rd. Father took Hella and me to Kahlenberg; we enjoyed ourselves tremendously. After dinner, when Father was reading the paper in the hotel, we went to pick flowers, and I told Hella all about what we’d seen on Friday. She was simply speechless, all the more since she had never heard what Mad. told us about taking off everything. She won’t marry either, for it’s too disagreeable, indeed too horrid.—The doctor said too: This perpetual learning is poisonous for young girls in the years of development. If he only knew what we had seen. Hella is frightfully annoyed that she was not there. She can be jolly glad, I don’t want to see it a second time, and I shall never forget it all my life long; what I saw at the front door was nothing to this. Then Hella went on making jokes and said: “I say, just think if it had been Viktor.” “Oh, do shut up,” I screamed, and Father thought we were quarrelling and called out: “You two seem to be having a dispute in the grand style.” If he’d only known what we were talking about!!! Oswald has been home since Friday evening; he did not arrive till half past 10. But he did not come on the excursion with us yesterday, although Father would have liked him to; he said he would find it much too dull to spend the day with two “flappers;” that means that we’re not grown up enough for him and is a piece of infernal cheek especially as regards Hella. She says she will simply ignore him in future. Since I am his sister I can’t very well do that, but I shan’t fetch and carry for him as he would like me to. He’s no right to insult even his sister.

Dora has just said to me: It’s horrible that one has to endure that (you know what!!! — — — —) when one is married. Resi had told her about those two before, and that only the Jews do it just like that. She said that other people did not strip quite naked and that perhaps it’s different in some other ways!! — — — But Mad. implied that it was just that way, only she did not say anything about the crushing; but I suppose that’s because of the cruelty of the Jews — — —. I’m afraid every night that I’m going to dream about it, and Dora has dreamed about it already. She says that whenever she closes her eyes she sees it all as if it were actually before her.

June 4th. We understand now what Father meant the other day when he was speaking about Dr. Diller and his wife and said: “But they don’t suit one another at all.” I thought at the time he only meant that it looks so absurd for so tiny a woman to go about with a big strong man. But that’s only a minor thing; the main point is something quite different!!!! Hella and I look at all couples now who go by arm in arm, thinking about them from that point of view, and it amuses us so much as we are going home that we can hardly keep from laughing. But really it’s no laughing matter, especially for the woman.

June 5th. This morning Mother took Dora with her to pay a farewell call 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.

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.

July 18th. Something splendid, we are — — — But no, I must write it all out in proper order. Oswald came home yesterday, he is in great form and said jokingly to Dora that she is so pretty he thinks he would fall in love with her if she were not his sister. Just before it was time to go to supper, Mother called us in, and I was rather annoyed when I saw that it was only a quarter to 8. Then Father came in with a paper in his hand as he often does when he comes back from the office, and said: “Dear Oswald and you two girls, I wanted to give you and especially Oswald a little treat because of the matriculation.” Aha, I thought, the great prize after all! Then Father opened the paper and said: “You have often wondered as children why we have no title of nobility like the other Lainers. My grandfather dropped it, but I have got it back again for you Oswald, and also for you two girls. Henceforward we shall call ourselves Lanier von Lainsheim like Aunt Anna and your uncles.” Oswald was simply speechless and I was the first to pull myself together and give Father a great hug. But first of all he said: “Do credit to the name.” Oswald went on clearing his throat for a frightfully long time, and then he said: Thank you, Father, I shall always hold the name in trust, and then they kissed one another. We were on our best behaviour all through the evening, although Mother had ordered roast chicken and Father had provided a bottle of champagne. I am frightfully happy; it’s so splendid and noble. Think of what the girls will say, and the staff! I’m frantically delighted. To-morrow I must write and tell Hella all about it.

July 19th. I’ve managed it beautifully. I did not want to write just: We are now noble, so I put it all in the signature, simply writing Always your loving friend Rita Lainer von Lainsheim. I told Resi about it first thing this morning, but Father scolded me about that at dinner time and said it was quite unnecessary; it seems the nobility has gone to your head. Nothing of the sort, but it’s natural that I should be frightfully glad and Dora too has covered a whole sheet of paper writing her new name. Father says it does not really make us any different from what we were before, but that is not true, for if it were he would not have bothered to revive the title. He says it will make it easier for Oswald to get on, but I’m sure there’s more in it than that. Resi told the landlord about it and in the afternoon he and his wife called to congratulate us.

July 20th. Oswald says he won’t stay here, it’s much too dull, he is going for a walking tour through the Alps, to Grossglockner, and then to the Karawanken. He will talk of Father as the “Old Man,” and I do think it is so vulgar. Dora says it is absolutely flippant.

July 24th. Hella’s answer came to-day; she congratulates me most heartily, and then goes on to write that at first she was struck dumb and thought I’d gone crazy or was trying to take her in. But her mother had already heard of it from her father for it had been published in the Official Gazette. Now we are both noble, and that is awfully nice. For I have often been annoyed that she was noble when I was not.

July 25th. Oswald left to-day. Father gave him 300 crowns for his walking tour, because of the matriculation. I said: “In that case I shall matriculate as soon as I can” and Oswald said: “For that one wants rather more brains in one’s head than you girls have.” What cheek, Frau Doktor M. passed the Gymnasium matriculation and Frau Doktor Steiner passed it too as an extra. Dora said quietly: Maybe I shall show you that your sister can matriculate too; anyhow you have always said yourself that the chief thing you need to get through the matriculation is cheek. Then I had a splendid idea and said: “But we girls have not got cheek, we study when we have to pass an examination!” Mother wanted us to make it up with him, but we would not. In the evening Dora said to me: Oswald is frantically arrogant, though he has had such a lot of Satisfactories and has only just scraped through his exam. By the way here’s another sample of Oswald’s stupidity; directly after the wire: “Finis with Jubilation” came another which ought to have arrived first, for it had been handed in 4 hours earlier, with nothing but the word “Through” [Durch]. Mother was frightfully upset by it for she was afraid it really meant failed [durchgefallen], and that the other telegram had been only an idiotic joke. Dora and I would never condescend to such horseplay. Father always says Oswald will sow all his wild oats at the university, but he said to-day that he was not going to the university, but would study mining, and then perhaps law.

July 29th. It’s sickeningly dull here, I simply don’t know what to do; I really can’t read and swing the whole day long, and Dora has become as dull as she used to be; that is, even duller, for not only does she not quarrel, but she won’t talk, that is she won’t talk about certain things. She is perfectly crazy about the baby of the young couple in the mezzanin; he’s 10 months old, and I can’t see what she sees to please her in such a little pig; she’s always carrying him about and yesterday he made her all wet, I wished her joy of it. It made her pretty sick, and I hope it will cure her infatuation.

Thank goodness to-morrow is my birthday, that will be a bit of a change. To-morrow we are going to the Parapluie Berg, but I hope we shan’t want our umbrellas. Father is coming back at 1 so that we can get away at 2 or half past. Hella has sent me to-day a lock-up box for letters, etc.!!! of course filled with sweets and a tremendously long letter to tell me how she is getting on in Gastein. But they are only going to stay a month because it is frantically expensive, a roll 5 krenzer and a bottle of beer 1 crown. And the rolls are so small that one simply has to eat 3 for breakfast and for afternoon tea. But it’s awfully smart in the hotel, several grooms; then there are masses of Americans and English and even a consul’s family from Sydney in Australia.—I spend most of the day playing with two dachshund puppies. They are called Max and Moritz, though of course one of them is a bitch. That is really a word which one ought not to write, for it means something, at least in its other meaning.