Chapter 6
October 1st. It was my turn in Natural History to-day I worked frightfully hard and _He_ was splendid. We are to look after the pictures and the animals _all through the term_. How jolly. Hella and I always wear the same coloured hair ribbons and in the Nat. Hist. lesson we always put tissue paper of the same colour on the desk. He wants us to keep notebooks, observations on Nature. We have bound ours in lilac paper, exactly the same shade as his necktie. On Tuesdays and Fridays we have to come to school at half past 8 to get things ready. Oh how happy I am.
October 9th. _He_ is a cousin of our gymnastic master, splendid! This is how we found it out. We, Hella and I, are always going past the Cafe Sick because he always has his afternoon coffee there. And on Thursday when we passed by there before the gymnastic lesson there was the gymnastic master sitting with him. Of course we bowed to them as we passed and in the gymnastic lesson Herr Baar said to us: So you two are tormented and pestered by my cousin in natural history? “Pestered” we said, o no, it’s the most delightful lesson in the whole week. “Is that so?” said he, “I won’t forget to let him know.” Of course we begged and prayed him not to give us away, saying it would be awful. But we do hope he will.
October 20th. Frau Doktor Steiner’s mother is dead. We are so sorry for her. Some of us are going to the funeral, I mayn’t go, Mother says it is not suitable, and Hella is not allowed to go either, I wonder if _He_ will go? I’m sure he will, for really he _has_ to.
October 23rd. Frau Doktor St. looks frightfully pale. Franke says she will certainly get married soon now that both her parents are dead. Her fiance often fetches her from the Lyz, I mean he waits for her in L. Street. Hella thinks an awful lot of him of course, because he’s an officer. I don’t think much of him myself, he’s too short and too fat. He’s only a very little taller than Frl. St. I think a husband should be nearly a head taller than his wife, or at least half a head taller, like our Father and Mother.
October 29th. We have such a frightful lot of work to do that we’re not taking season tickets this winter, but are going to pay each time when we go skating. I wish we knew whether _He_ skates, and where. Hella thinks that with great caution we might find out from his cousin during the gymnastic lesson. They are often together in the Cafe. I should like to know what they talk about, they are always laughing such a lot, especially when we go by.
October 31st. Ada has written to me. She is _awfully_ unhappy. She is back in St. P., in a continuation school. But the actor is not there any more. She writes that she yearns to throw off her chains which lie heavy on her soul. Poor darling. No one can help her. That is, her Mother could help her but she won’t. It must be awful. Hella thinks that her parents will not allow her to go on the stage until she has tried to do herself a mischief; then things may be better. It’s quite true, what can her mother be thinking of when she knows how fearfully unhappy Ada is. After all, why on earth shouldn’t she go on the stage when she has so much talent? All her mistresses and masters at the middle school praised her reciting tremendously and one of them said in so many words that she had _great dramatic talent_. Masters don’t flatter one; except . . .; first of all _He_ is not just an ordinary master but a professor, and secondly _He_ is quite, quite different from all others When he strokes his beard I become quite hot and cold with extasy. And the way he lifts up his coat tails as he sits down. It’s lovely, I do want to kiss him. Hella and I take turns to put our penholder on his desk so that _he_ can hallow it with his hand as he writes. Afterwards in the arithmetic lesson when I write with it, I keep looking at Hella and she looks back at me and we both know what the other is thinking of.
November 15th. It’s a holiday to-day so at last I can write once more. We have such a frightful lot to do that I simply can’t manage to write. Besides Mother is often ill. She has been laid up again for the last 4 days. It’s awfully dull and dreary. Of course I had time to write those days, but then I didn’t want to write. As soon as Mother is well again she’s going to the Lyz to ask how we are getting on I’m awfully glad because of S.G.
November 28th. Mother came to school to-day and saw him too. I took her to him and he was heavenly. He said: I am very pleased with your daughter; she’s very keen and clever. Then he turned over the pages of his notebook as if to look at his notes. But really he knows by heart how we all work. That is not _all_ of course. That would be impossible with so many girls; and he teaches in the science school as well where there are even more boys than we are.
December 5th. Skating to-day I saw the Gold Fairy. She is awfully pretty, but I really don’t think her so lovely as I did last year. Hella says she never could think what had happened to my eyes. “You were madly in love with her and you never noticed that she has a typical Bohemian nose,” said Hella. Of course that’s not true, but now my taste is _quite different_. Still, I said how d’you do to her and she was very nice. When she speaks she is really charming, and I do love her gold stoppings. Frau Doktor M. has two too and when she laughs its heavenly.
December 8th. I do wish Dora would keep her silly jokes to herself. When the Trobisch’s were all here to-day they were talking about the school and she said: “Gretl has a fresh enthusiasm each year; last year it was Frau Doktor Malburg and this year it’s Professor Wilke. Frau Doktor Malburg has fallen from grace now.” If I had wanted to I could have begun about the two students on the ice. But I’m not like that so I merely looked at her with contempt and gave her a kick under the table. And she had the cheek to say: “What’s the matter? Oh, of course these tender secrets of the heart must not be disclosed. Never mind Gretl, it does not matter at your age, for things don’t cut deep.” But she was rightly paid out: Frau von Tr. and Father roared with laughter and Frau v. Tr. said: “Why, grandmother, have you been looking at your white hair in the glass?” Oh, how I did laugh, and she was so frightfully put out that she blushed like fire, and in the evening _she_ said to _me_ that I was an ill-mannered pig. That’s why I did not tell her that she’d left her composition book on the table and to-morrow she has to give it in. It’s all the same to _me_, for I’m an ill-mannered pig.
December 9th. It’s awful. At 2 o’clock this afternoon Hella was taken to the Low sanatorium and was operated on at once. Appendicitis. Her mother has just telephoned that the operation has been successful. But the doctors said that 2 hours later it would have been too late. My knees are trembling and my hand shakes as I write. She has not slept off the anisthetic yet.
December 10th. Hella is frightfully weak; no one can see her except her father and mother, not even Lizzi. On St. Nicholas Day we had such a jolly time and ate such a lot of sweets that we almost made ourselves sick. But its impossible that she got appendicitis from that. On Monday evening, when we were going home after the gym lesson, she said she did not feel at all well. The night before last she had a rigor and the first thing in the morning the doctor said that she must go to hospital at once for an operation.
December 11th. All the girls at school are frightfully excited about Hella, and Frau Dr. St. was awfully nice and put off mathematics till next Tuesday. On Sunday I am going to see Hella. She does want to see me so and so do I want to see her.
December 12th. She is still very weak and doesn’t care about anything; I got her mother to take some roses and violets from me, she did like them so much.
December 14th. This afternoon I was with Hella from two until a quarter to 4. She is so pale and when I came in we both cried such a lot. I brought her some more flowers and I told her directly that when he sees me Prof. W. always asks after her. So do the other members of the staff especially Frau Doktor M. The girls want to visit her but her mother won’t let them. When anyone is lying in bed they look quite different, like strangers. I said so to Hella, and she said: We can never be strangers to one another, not even in death. Then I burst out crying again and both our mothers said I must go away because it was too exciting for Hella.
December 15th. I was with Hella again to-day. She passed me a little note asking me to get from her locker the parcel with the blotting-book for her father and the key basket for her mother and bring it to her because the things are not ready yet for Christmas.
December 16th. Hella’s better to-day. I’ve got to paint the blotting-book for her father. Thank goodness I can. She’ll be able to finish the key basket herself, that’s nothing.
December 18th. The Bruckners are all frightfully unhappy for it won’t be a real Christmas if Hella has to stay in hospital over Christmas. But perhaps she will for since yesterday she has not been so well, the doctors can’t make out why she suddenly had fever once more. For she didn’t let on that I had brought her some burnt almonds because she’s so awfully fond of them. But now I’m so terribly frightened that she’ll have to have another operation.
December 19th. Directly after school I went to see Hella again for I had been so anxious I could not sleep all night. Thank goodness she’s better. One of the doctors said that if she’d been in a private house he would have felt sure it was an error in diet, but since she was in hospital that could be excluded. So it was from the burnt almonds and the two sticks of marzipan. Hella thinks it was the marzipan, for they were large ones at 20 hellers each because nuts lie heavy on the stomach. She had a pain already while I was still there, but she wouldn’t say anything about it because it was her fault that I’d brought her the sweets. She can beg as much as she likes now, I shan’t bring her anything but flowers, and they can’t make her ill. Of course it would be different if it were true about the “Vengeance of Flowers.” But that’s all nonsense, and besides I don’t bring any strong-scented flowers.
December 20th. I am so glad, to-morrow or Tuesday Hella can come home, in time for the Christmas tree. Now I know what to give her, a long chair, Father will let me, for I have not enough money myself but Father will give me as much as I want. Oh there’s no one like Father! To-morrow he’s going to take me to the Wahringerstrasse to buy one.
December 21st. I was only a very short time with Hella to-day because Father came to fetch me soon. At first she was a little hurt, but then she saw that we had important business so she said: All right as long as it is not anything made of marzipan. That nearly gave us both away. For when we were in the street Father asked me: Why did Hella say that about marzipan? So I said quickly: Since she’s been ill she has a perfect loathing for sweets. Thank goodness Father didn’t notice anything. But I do hate having to tell fibs to Father. First of all I always feel that he’ll see through it, and secondly anyhow I don’t like telling fibs to him. The couch is lovely, a Turkish pattern with long tassels on the round bolster. Father wanted to pay for it altogether, but I said: No, then it would not be my present, and so I paid five crowns and Father 37. To-morrow early it will be sent to the Bruckners.
December 22nd. Hella is going home to-morrow. She has already been up a little, but she is still so weak that she has to lean on someone when she walks. She is awfully glad she is going home, for she says in a hospital one always feels as if one was going to die. She’s quite right. The first time I went to see her I nearly burst out crying on the stairs. And afterwards we both really did cry frightfully. Her mother knows about the couch, but it has not been sent yet. I do hope they won’t forget about it at the shop.
December 23rd. Hella went home to-day. Her father carried her upstairs while I held her hand. The two tenants in the mezzanin came out to congratulate her and the old privy councillor on the second story and his wife sent down a great pot of lilac. She was so tired that I came away at 5 o’clock so that she could rest. To-morrow I’m going to their Christmas tree first and then to ours. Because of Hella the Br’s are going to have the present giving at 5 o’clock, we shall have ours as usual at 7.
December 26th. Yesterday and the day before I simply could not write a word. It was lovely here and at Hella’s. I shan’t write down all the things I got, because I’ve no time, and besides I know anyhow. Hella was awfully pleased with the couch, her father carried her into the room and laid her on the sofa. Her mother cried. It was touching. It’s certainly awfully nice to have got through a bad illness, when everyone takes care of one, and when no one denies you the first place. I don’t grudge it to Hella. She’s such a darling. Yesterday I was there all day, and after dinner, when she had to go to sleep, she said: Open the drawer of my writing-table, the lowest one on the right, and you’ll find my diary there if you want to read it. I shall never forget it! It’s true that we agreed we would let one another read our diaries, but we’ve never done it yet; after all we’re a little shy of one another, and besides after a long time one can’t remember exactly what one has written. What she writes is always quite short, never more than half a page, but what she writes is always important. Of course she couldn’t sleep but instead I had to read her a lot of things out of her diary, especially the holidays when she was in Hungary. She was made much of there. By two cadets and her two cousins. We laughed so madly over some things that it hurt Hella’s wound and I had to stop reading.
December 29th. We were put in such a frightful rage yesterday. This is how it happened. It is a long time since we both gave up playing with dolls and things of that sort but when I was rummaging in Hella’s box I came across the dolls’ things; they were quite at the bottom where Hella never looked at them. I took out the little Paris model and she said: Give it here and bring all the things that belong to it. I arranged them all on her bed and we were trying all sorts of things. Then Mother and Dora came. When they came in Dora gave such a spiteful look and said: Ah, at their favourite occupation: look, Lizzi, their cheeks are quite red with excitement over their play. Wasn’t it impertinent. We playing with dolls! Even if we had been, what business was it of hers to make fun of us? Hella was in a frightful rage and to-day she said: “One is never safe from spies; please put all those things away in the box so that I shan’t see them any more.” It really is too stupid that one should always be reproached about dolls as if it was something disgraceful. After all, one doesn’t really understand until later how all the things are made; when one is 7 or 8 or still more when one is quite a little girl and one first gets dolls, one does not understand whether they are pretty and nicely dressed or not. Still, to-day we’ve done with dolls for ever. A good day to turn over a new leaf, for the day after to-morrow is New Year’s Day.
But what annoys me most of all was this piece of cheek of Dora’s; she says that Lizzi said: “We used to delight in those things at one time,” but I was in such a rage that I did not hear it. But to eat all the best things off the Christmas tree on the sly!!! I saw it myself, _that_ is nothing. _That’s_ quite fit and proper for a girl of 15. After supper yesterday I asked: But what’s become of the second marzipan sandwich, I’m sure there were two on the tree. And I looked at her steadily till she got quite red. And after a time I said: the big basket of vegetables is gone too. Then she said. Yes, I took it, I don’t need to ask your permission. As for the sandwich, Oswald took that. I was in such a temper, and then Father said: Come, come, you little witch, cool your wrath with the second sandwich and wash it down with a sip of liqueur. For Grandfather sent Father a bottle of liqueur.
December 30th. This is a fine ending to the year. I’ve no interest in the school any longer. We’re silly little fools, love-sick and forward minxes. That’s all the thanks we get for having gone every Tuesday and Friday to the school at half past 8 to arrange everything and dust everything and then he can say a thing like that. I shall never write _he_ with a big h again; he is not worthy of it. And I had to swallow it all, choke it down, for I simply must not excite Hella. It made me frightfully angry when Mother told me, but still I’m glad for I know what line to take now. Mother was paying a call yesterday and the sister of our gymnastic master, who is at the ---- High School, happened to be there, and she told Mother that her cousin Dr. W. is so much annoyed because the girls in the high school are so forward. Such silly little fools, and the little minxes begin it already in the First Class. _For that reason he prefers to teach_ boys, they are fond of him too but they don’t make themselves such an _infernal nuisance_. Well, now that I know _I_ shant make myself a nuisance to him any more. On Friday, when the next lesson is, I shall go there 2 minutes before nine and take the things into the class-room without saying a word. And I shall tell Kalinsky too that we’re such an _infernal nuisance_ to him. Just fancy, as if _we_ were in the First Class!
January 1st, 19--. This business with Prof. W. makes me perfectly furious. Hella kept on asking yesterday what was the matter, said I seemed different somehow. But thank goodness I was able to keep it in. I must keep it in for the sake of her health, even if it makes me ill. Anyway what use is life now. Since people are so falsehearted. He always looked so awfully nice and charming; when I think of the way in which he asked how Hella was and all the time he was so false!!! If Hella only knew. Aha, to-morrow!
January 2nd. I treated him _abominably_. Knocked at the door--Good-morning, Herr Prof. please what do we want for the lesson to-day? He very civilly: Nothing particular to-day. Well, what sort of a Christmas did you have--I: Thank you, much as usual.--He turned round and stared at me: It does not seem to have been; to judge from your manner. --I: There are quite other reasons for that. He: O-o-h? He may well say O-o-h! For he has not the least idea that I know the way in which he speaks of us.
January 6th. To-day Hella was able to go out for her first drive. She’s much better now and will come back to school by the middle of the month. I _must_ tell her before that or she’ll get a shock. Yesterday she asked: Does not S. C. ask about me any more?--Oh yes, I fibbed, but not so often as before. And she said: That’s the way it goes, out of sight out of mind. What will happen when she learns the truth. Anyhow I shan’t tell her until she’s quite strong.
January 10th. I’ve had to tell Hella already. She was talking so enthusiastically about S. G. At first I said nothing. And then she said: What are you making such a face for? Are not you allowed to arrange the things any more?--I: _Allowed_? Of course I’m _allowed_, but I don’t _want_ to any more. I did not tell Hella _how_ bad I feel about it; for I really _was_ madly in love with him.
January 12th. Hella must have been madly in love with him too or rather must be in love with him still. On Sunday evening she was so much upset that her mother believed she was going to have a relapse. She had pains and diarrea at the same time. Thank goodness she’s got over it like me. She said to-day: Don’t let’s bother ourselves about it any more. We wasted our feelings (not love!!) on an unworthy object. At such moments she is magnificent, especially now when she is still so pale. Besides in the holidays and now since she has been ill she has grown tremendously. Before I was a little taller and now she is a quarter head taller than me. Dora is frightfully annoyed because I am nearly as tall as she is. Thank goodness it makes me look older than 12 1/2.
Hella is not to come to school on January 15th, for her mother is going to take her to Tyrol for 2 or 3 weeks.
January 18th. It’s horridly dull with Hella away. Only now do I realise, since her illness. I am always feeling as if she had fallen ill again. Her mother has taken her to Meran, they are coming back in the beginning of February.
January 24th. Since Hella has been ill, that is really since, she went away, I spend most of my time with Fritzi Hubner. She’s awfully nice, though I did not know it last year. Till Hella comes back she and I sit together. For it’s horrid to sit alone on a bench Fritzi knows a good deal already. She would not talk about it at first because it so often leads to trouble. Her brother has told her everything. He’s rather a swell and is called Paul.
January 29th. Yesterday was the ice carnival and Dora and I were allowed to go. I skated with Fritzi and Paul most of the time and won 2 prizes, one of them with Paul. And one of them skating in a race with 5 other girls. Paul is awfully clever, he says he’s going into the army, the flying corps. That’s even more select than being on the general staff. Her father is a major and he, I mean Paul, ought to have gone to the military academy, but his grandfather would not allow it. He is to choose for himself. But of course he will become an officer. Most boys want to be what their father is. But Oswald is perhaps going into the Navy. I wish I knew what Father meant once when he said to Mother: Good God, I’m not doing it on my own account. I’m only doing it because of Oswald. The two girls won’t get much out of it.
February 3rd. I’ve just been reading what I wrote about Father. I am wondering what it can be. I think that Father either wants to win the great prize in the lottery or is perhaps going to buy a house. But Dora and I would get something out of that, for it would not belong to Oswald only.
February 4th. Yesterday I asked Mother about it. But she said she didn’t know; if it was anything which concerned us, Father would tell us. But it must be something, or Mother would not have told Father in the evening that I had asked. I can’t endure these secrets. Why shouldn’t we know that Father’s going to buy a house. Fritzi’s grandfather has a house in Brunn and another in Iglau. But Fritzi is very simply dressed and her mother too.
February 9th. Thank goodness Hella is coming back to-morrow, just before her birthday. Luckily she can eat everything again so I am giving her a huge bag of Viktor Schmid’s sweets with a silver sugar tongs. Mother and I are going to meet Hella at the station. They are coming by the 8.20.
February 10th. I am so glad Hella is coming to-day. I nearly could not meet her because Mother is not very well to-day. But Father’s going to take me. Fritzi wanted to come and see Hella to-morrow afternoon, but she can’t. She’s an awfully nice girl and her brother is too, but on the first day Hella is back we must be alone together. She said so too in the last letter she wrote me. She’s been away more than 3 weeks. It’s a frightfully long time when you are fond of one another.