A Young Girl's Diary · Chapter 14Third Year, Age Thirteen to Fourteen (4)
This chapter is not translated yet. You are reading the original.
Then we had some music and Anneliese sang the Wacht am Rhein and a lot of folk songs; her voice is as sweet as herself. She was fetched at 7, I stayed till 8.
March 1st. To-morrow Hella and I have been in vised to Anneliese’s. I am so awfully glad. I shall ask Mother to let me wear my new theatre blouse and the green spring coat and skirt. The temperature went up to 54 degrees to-day.
March 3rd. Yesterday we went to Anneliese’s. She shares a room with her cousin; she is only 11 and goes to the middle school, but she is a nice girl I expected to find everything frightfully smart at Professor Arndt’s, but it was not so at all. They have only 3 rooms not particularly well furnished. He has retired on a pension, Emmy is their granddaughter, she lives with them because her father is in Galicia, a captain or major I think. It was not so amusing as at Hella’s. We played games without prizes, and that is dull; it is not that one plays for the sake of the prizes, but what’s the use of playing if one does not win anything? Then they read aloud to us out of a story book. But what Hella and I found exasperating was that Anneliese’s uncle said “Du” to us both. For Hella is 14, and I shall be 14 in a few months. But Hella was quite right; in conversation she said: “At the High School only the mistresses say Du to us, the professors have to say Sie.” Unfortunately he went away soon after, so we don’t know whether he took the hint. Hella says too that it was not particularly entertaining.
March 9th. Oh dear, Mother really has got cancer; of course Father has not told us so, but she has to have another operation. Dora has cried her eyes out and my knees are trembling. She’s going to hospital on Friday. Aunt Dora is coming back on Thursday and will stay here till Mother is well again. I do so dread the operation, and still more Mother’s going away. It’s horrible, but still lots of people have cancer and don’t die of it.
March 22nd. Mother is coming home again tomorrow. Oh I am so glad! Everything is so quiet in the hospital and one hardly dares speak in the passages. Mother said: “I don’t want to stay here any longer, let me go back to my children.” We went to see Mother in hospital every day and took her violets and other flowers, for she was not allowed to eat anything during the first few days after the operation. But it’s quite different now that she’s home again. I should have liked to stay away from school to-day, but Mother said: “No, children, go to school, do it to please me.” So of course we went, but I simply could not attend to my lessons.
March 24th. Mother is asleep now. She looks frightfully ill and still has a lot of pain. I’m sure the doctors can’t really understand her case; for if they had operated properly she would not still have pain after the second operation. I should like to know what Mother has been talking to Dora about, for they both cried. Although Dora and I are on good terms now, she would not tell me, but said she had promised Mother not to speak about it. I can’t believe that Mother has told Dora a secret, but perhaps it was something about marrying. For Dora only said: “Besides, Mother did not need to say that to me, for my mind was quite made up in any case.” I do hate such hints, it’s better to say nothing at all. As soon as Mother can get up she is going to Abbazia for a change, and most likely Dora will go with her.
March 26th. Mother and Dora are going to Abbazzia next week. Dora thinks I envy her the journey, and she said: “I would willingly renounce the journey and the seaside if only Mother would get well. And this year when I have to matriculate, I certainly should not go for pleasure.” I’m so awfully miserable that I simply can’t wear a red ribbon in my hair, though red suits me best. I generally wear a black one now, but since yesterday a brown one, for Mother said: “Oh, Gretel, do give up that black ribbon; it looks so gloomy and does not suit you at all.” Of course I could not tell Mother how I was feeling, so I took the brown one and said the red ribbon was quite worn out.
April 12th. I never get my diary written. It’s so gloomy at home for Mother is very bad. Oswald is coming home to-morrow for the Easter holidays and Mother is looking forward so to seeing him. I was to have gone with Hella and her father to Maria-Zell, for this year they are probably going to take a house for the summer in Mitterbach or Mitterberg near Maria-Zell. But I am not going after all, for I don’t feel inclined, and I think Mother is better pleased that I should not; for she said: “So I shall have all my three darlings together here at Easter.” When she said that I wanted to cry, and I ran quickly out of the room so that she might not see me. But she must have seen, for after dinner she said: “Gretel, if you really want to go with the Bruckners, I should like you to; I should be so glad for you to have a little pleasure, you have not had much enjoyment all the winter.” And then I could not stop myself, and I burst out crying and said: “No, Mother, I won’t go on any account. All I want is that you should get quite well again.” And then Mother cried too and said: “Darling, I’m afraid I shall never be quite well again, but I should like to stay until you are all grown up; after that you won’t need me so much.” Then Dora came in and when she saw that Mother was crying she said that Father had sent for me. He hadn’t really but in the evening she told me that Mother’s illness was hopeless, but that I must not do anything to upset her or let her see what I was feeling. And then we both cried a lot and promised one another that we would always stay with Father.
May 16th. Mother died on April 24th, the Sunday after Easter. We are all so awfully unhappy. Hardly anyone says a word at mealtimes, only Father speaks to us so lovingly. Most likely Aunt Dora will stay here for good. It’s not three weeks yet since Mother was buried, but in one way we feel as if she had already been dead three years, and in another way one is always suddenly wanting to go into her room, to ask her something or tell her something. And when we go to bed we talk about her for such a long time, and then I dream about her all night. Why should people die? Or at least only quite old people, who no longer have anyone to care about it. But a mother and a father ought never to die. The night after Mother died Hella wanted me to come and stay with them, but I preferred to stay at home; but late in the evening I did not dare to go into the hall alone, so Dora went with me. Father had locked the door into the drawing-room, where Mother was laid out, but all the same it was awfully creepy. They did not call me on the 24th until after Mother was dead; I should have so liked to see her once more. Good God, why should one die? If only I had been called Berta after her; but she did not wish that either of us should be called after her, nor did Father wish it in Oswald’s case.
May 19th. When Mother was buried, one thing made me frightfully angry with Dora, at least not really angry but hurt, that she should have gone into church and come out of church with Father. For I have always gone with Father and Dora has always gone with Mother. And while poor Mother was in hospital, Dora went with Aunt. But at the funeral Father went with her, and I had to go with Aunt Dora. A few days later I spoke to her about it, and she said it was quite natural because she is the elder. She said that Oswald ought to have gone with me, that that would have been the proper thing. But he went alone. Another thing that annoys me is this; when Aunt Dora came here in the autumn, Dora and I sat on the same side of the table at dinner and supper, and Aunt sat opposite Mother, and when Mother took to her bed her place was left vacant. After she died Oswald sat on the fourth side, and now for about a week Dora has been sitting in Mother’s place. I can’t understand how Father can allow it!
May 19th. At dinner to-day no one could eat anything. For we had breast of veal, and we had had the same thing on the day of poor Mother’s funeral, and when the joint was brought in I happened to look at Dora and saw that she was quite red and was sobbing frightfully. Then I could not contain myself any more and said: “I can’t eat any breast of veal, for on Mother’s burial day — — —,” then I could not say any more, and Father stood up and came round to me, and Dora and Aunt Dora burst out crying too. And after dinner Aunt promised us that we should never have breast of veal again. For tea, Aunt Dora ordered an Ulm cake because we had eaten hardly anything at dinner.
May 26th. To-day is the first day of Dora’s written matriculation. Father wanted her to withdraw because she looks so ill, but she would not for she said it would be a distraction for her and that she would like to finish with the High School. Next year she is to go to a preparatory school for the Gymnasium. She ought really to go to a dancing class, for she is nearly 17, but since she is in mourning it is quite impossible and of course she does not want to go anyhow. The head thought too that Dora would withdraw from the examination because she is so overwrought, but she did not want to withdraw. The staff were so awfully sweet to us after Mother’s death, at least the women teachers were. The professors don’t bother themselves about our private concerns, for they only see us for 1 or 2 hours a week. Frau Doktor Steiner, from whom we don’t have any lessons this year, was awfully sympathetic; I saw plainly that she had tears in her eyes, and Frau Doktor M. was an angel as she always is! We did not go to the spring festival on May 20th, though Father said we could go if we liked. Hella and Anneliese were awfully anxious that I should go; but I would not, and indeed I shall never go to any more amusements. No doubt the others enjoyed themselves immensely, but for Dora and me it would have been horrible. In the evenings I often fancy to myself that it is not really true, that Mother has simply gone to Franzensbad and will be back soon. And then I cry until my head aches or until Dora says: “Oh Gretel, I do wish you’d stop, it’s awful.” She often cries herself, I can hear her quite well, but I never say anything.
June 4th. So Dora looks upon Mother’s death as a sign of God’s displeasure against Father! But what could we have done to prevent it? She said, Oh, yes, we did a lot of things we ought not to have done, and above all we had secrets from Mother. That is why God has punished us. It’s horrible, and now that she is always speaking of the eye of God and the finger of God it makes me so terribly afraid to go into a dark room, because I always feel there is some one there who is eying me and wants to seize me.
June 8th. Father is in a frightful rage with Dora; yesterday evening, when I opened the drawing-room door and there was Father coming out, quite unintentionally I gave a yell, and when Father asked what was the matter I told him about God’s displeasure; only I did not tell him it was against him, but only against Dora and me. And then Father was frightfully angry for the first time since Mother’s death, and he told Dora she was not to upset me with her ill-conditioned fancies, and Dora nearly had an attack of palpitation so that the doctor had to be sent for. Aunt came to sleep in our room and we both had to take bromide. To-day Father was awfully kind to us and said: “Girls, you’ve no reason to reproach yourselves, you have always been good children, and I hope you always will be good.” Yes, I will be, for Mother’s eye watches over us. Hella thinks I look very poorly, and she asked me to-day whether perhaps . . . . ?? But I told her that I would not talk about such things any more, that it would be an offence to my Mother’s memory. She wanted to say something more, but I said: “No, Hella, I simply won’t talk about that any more. You can’t understand, because your mother is still alive.”
June 12th. It is awful; just when I did not want to think any more about such things, there comes an affair of that very sort! I’m in a frightful mess through no fault of my own. Just after 9 to-day a girl from the Second came in to our Mathematic lesson and said: “The head mistress wishes to see Lainer, Bruckner, and Franke in the office directly.” All the girls looked at us, but we did not know why. When we came into the office, the door of the head’s room was shut and Fraulein N. told us to wait. Then the head came out and called me in. Inside a lady was sitting, and she looked at me through a lorgnon. “Do you spend much time with Zerkwitz?” asked the head. “Yes, said I,” and I had a foreboding. “This lady is Zerkwitz’s mother, she complains that you talk about very improper things with her daughter; is it so?” “Hella and I never wanted to tell her anything; but she begged us to again and again, and besides we thought she really knew it anyhow and only pretended she didn’t.” “What did you think she knew, and what did you talk to her about?” broke in Anneliese’s mother. “Excuse me,” said the head, “I will examine the girls; so Bruckner was concerned in the matter too?” “Very seldom,” said I; “Yes, the chief offender is Lainer, the girl whose mother died recently.” Then I choked down my tears, and said: “We should never have said a word about these matters unless Anneliese had kept on at us.” After that I would not answer any more questions. Then Hella was called in. She told me afterwards that she knew what was up directly she saw my face. “What have you been talking about to Zerkwitz?” Hella would not say at first, but then she said in as few words as possible: “About getting babies, and about being married!” “Gracious goodness, such little brats, and to talk about such things,” said Anneliese’s mother. “Such corrupt minds.” “We did not believe that Anneliese did not really know, or we should never have told her anything,” said Hella just as I had; she was simply splendid. “As regards Alfred, we have nothing to do with that, and we have often advised her not to allow him to meet her coming home from school; but she would not listen to us.” “I am talking about your conversations with which you have corrupted the poor innocent child,” said Frau von Zerkwitz. “She certainly must have known something about it before, or she would not have gone with Alfred or wanted to talk about it with us,” said Hella. “Heavenly Father, that is worse still; such corruptness of mind!” Then we were sent out of the room. Outside, Hella cried frightfully, and so did I, for we were afraid there would be a row at home. We could not go back into the Mathematic lesson because we had been crying such a lot. In the interval Hella walked past Anneliese and said out loud: “Traitress!!” and spat at her. For that she was ordered out of the ranks. I stepped out of the ranks too, and when Frau Professor Kreindl said: “Not you, Lainer, you go on,” I said: “Excuse me, I spat at her too,” and went and stood beside Hella. All the girls looked at us. It was plain that Frau Prof. Kreindl knew all about it already for she did not say any more. In the German lesson from 11 to 12 Frau Doktor M. said: “Girls, why can’t you keep the peace together? This continual misconduct is really too bad, and serves only to make trouble for you and for your parents and for us.” Just before 12 Hella and I were summoned to the head’s room again. “Girls,” she said, “it’s a horrible business this. Even if your own imaginations have been prematurely poisoned, why should you try to corrupt others? As for you, Lainer, you ought to be especially ashamed of yourself that such complaints should be made of you when your mother has been buried only a few weeks.” “Excuse me,” said Hella, “all this happened in the spring, and even earlier, in the winter, for we were still skating at the time. Rita’s mother was pretty well then. Besides, Zerkwitz was continually pestering us to tell her. I often warned Rita, and said: ‘Don’t trust her,’ but she was quite infatuated with Zerkwitz. Please, Frau Direktorin, don’t say anything about it to Rita’s father, for he would be frightfully upset.”
Hella was simply splendid, I shall never forget. She does not want me to write that; we are writing together. Hella thinks we must write it all down word for word, for one never can tell what use it may be. No one ever had a friend like Hella, and she is so brave and clever. “You are just as clever,” she says, “but you get so easily overawed, and besides you are still quite nervous because of your mother’s death. I only hope your father won’t hear anything about it.” That stupid idiot dug up the old story about the two students on the ice, a thing that was over and done with ages ago. “You should never trust anyone,” says Hella, and she’s perfectly right. I never could have believed Anneliese would be such a sneak. We don’t know yet what was up with Franke. As she came in she put her finger to her lips, meaning of course “Betray nothing!”
June 15th. The school inspector came to-day. I was at the blackboard in the Maths lesson, when there was a knock at the door and the head came in with the Herr Insp. For a moment I thought he had come about that matter, and I went as white as a sheet (at least the girls say I did; Hella says I looked like Niobe mourning for her children). Thank goodness, the sum was an easy one, and besides I can always do sums; in Maths and French I am the best in the class. But the Herr Insp. saw that I had tears in my eyes and said something to the head; then the head said: “She has recently lost her mother.” Then the Herr Insp. praised me, and like a stupid idiot I must needs begin to howl. The head said: “It’s all right L., sit down,” and stroked my hair. She is so awfully sweet, and I do hope that she and Frau Doktor M. will say a word for me at the Staff Meeting. And I do hope that Father won’t hear anything of it, for of course he would reproach me dreadfully because it all comes so soon after Mother’s death. But really it all happened long before that. The way it all happened was that Hella’s mother went away to see Emmy, her married niece, who was having her first baby. And then it was that we told the “innocent child” (that’s what we call the deceitful cat) everything. Hella still thinks that the “innocent child” was a humbug. That is quite likely, for after all she is nearly fourteen; and at 14 one must surely know a great deal already; it’s impossible that at that age a girl can continue to believe in the stork story, as Anneliese is said!!! to have done. Hella thinks that I shall soon be “developed” too, because I always have such black rings under my eyes. I overheard Frau von Zerkwitz say, “Little brats;” but Hella says that the head hemmed loudly to drown it. Afterwards Hella was in fits of laughter over the expression “little brats” for her mother always says about such things; Little brats like you have no concern with such matters. Good Lord, when is one to learn all about it if one does not know when one is nearly 14! As a matter of fact both Hella and I learned these things very early, and it has not done us any harm. Hella’s mother always says that if one learns such things too early one gets to look old; but of course that’s nonsense. But why do mothers not want us to know? I suppose they’re just ashamed.
June 16th. Yesterday evening after we had gone to bed, Dora said: “What were you really talking about to Z., or whatever her name is? The head called me into the office to-day and told me that you had been talking of improper matters. She said I must watch over you in Mother’s place!” Well that would be a fine thing! Besides, it all happened when Mother was still alive. A mother never knows what children are talking of together. Dora thinks that I shall have a written Reprimand from the Staff Meeting. I should hate that because of Father; that would mean another fearful row; although Father is really awfully sweet now; I have not had a single rowing since Mother first got ill. It’s quite true that death makes people gentle, but why? Really one would have thought people would get disagreeable, because they’ve been so much distressed. Last week the tombstone was put up and we all went to see it. I should like to go alone to the cemetery once at least, for one does not like to weep before the others.
June 18th. The “innocent child” does not come to gym. any longer, at least she has not been since that affair. We think she’s afraid, although we should not say anything to her. We punish her with silent contempt, she’ll feel that more than anything. And thank goodness she does not come to play tennis. I do hate people who are deceitful, for one never knows where to have them. When a girl tells an outright cram, then I can at least say to her: Oh, clear out, don’t tell such a frightful whacker; I was not born yesterday. But one has no safeguard against deceitfulness. That’s why I don’t like cats. We have another name for the “innocent child,” we call her the “red cat.” I think she knows. Day after tomorrow is the school outing to Carnuntum. I am so excited. We have to be at the quay at half past 7.
June 21st. The outing was lovely. Hella was to come and fetch me. But she overslept herself, so her mother took a taxi; and luckily I had waited for her. I should like to be always driving in a taxi. Dora would not wait, and went away at a quarter to 7 by electric car. At a quarter to 8 Hella came in the taxi, and just before the ship weighed anchor (I believe one ought only to say that of a sailing ship at sea, but it does not matter, I’m not Marina who knows everything about the navy), that is just at the right moment, we arrived. They all stared at us when we came rushing up in the taxi. I tumbled down as I got out of the car, it was stupid; but I don’t think they all noticed it. Aunt Dora said that for this one day we had better put off our mourning, and Father said so too, so we wore our white embroidered frocks and Aunt Dora was awfully good and had made us black sashes; it looked frightfully smart, and they say that people wear mourning like that in America. I do love America, the land of liberty. Boys (that is young students) and girls go to school together there!! — — — But about the outing. In the boat we sat next Frau Doktor M., she was awfully nice; Hella was on the right and I was on the left, and we sat so close that she said: “Girls, you’re squashing me, or at least you’re crushing my dress!” She was wearing a white frock and had a coral necklace which suited her simply splendidly. When we were near Hainburg Hella’s hat fell into the Danube, and all the girls screamed because they thought a child had fallen overboard. But thank goodness it was only the hat. We went up the Schlossberg and had a lovely view, that is, I did not look at anything except Frau Doktor M. because she was so lovely; Professor Wilke was with us, and he went about with her all the time. The girls say he will probably marry her, perhaps in the holidays. Oh dear, that would be horrid. Hella thinks that is quite out of the question because of the German professor; at any rate it would be better for her to marry Professor W. than the other, because he is said to be a Jew. “Still, with regard to all the things that hang upon marriage, it’s the same with every man,” said I. “That’s just the chief point, you little goose,” said Hella. And Frau Doktor M. said: “Do you allow your chum to talk to you like that? What is the chief point?” I was just going to say: “We can’t tell you that,” when Hella interrupted me and said: “Just because I’m her chum I can talk to her like that; she would not let anyone else do it.” Then we went to dinner. Unfortunately we did not sit next “her.” We had veal cutlets and four pieces of chocolate cake, and as the Herr Religionsprof. went by he said: “How many weeks have you been fasting?” Before dinner we went to the museum to see the things they had dug up in the Roman camp. The head mistress and Fraulein V. explained everything. It was most instructive. In the afternoon we went to Deutsch-Altenburg. It was great fun at tea. Then we had games and all the staff joined in, the Fifth had got up a comedy by one of the girls. We were all in fits of laughter. Then suddenly there came along a whole troop of officers of the flying corps, frightfully smart, and one of them sat down at the piano and began to play dance music. Another came up to the head and begged her to allow the “young ladies” to dance. The head did not want to at first, but all the girls of the Fifth and Sixth begged her to, and the Herr Rel. Prof. said: “Oh, Frau Direktorin, let them have the innocent pleasure,” and so they really were allowed to dance. The rest of us either danced with one another or looked on. And then, when Hella and I were standing right in front, up came a splendid lieutenant and said: “May I venture to separate the two friends for a little dance?” “If you please,” said I, and sailed off with him. To dance with a lieutenant is glorious. Then the same lieutenant danced with Hella and in the evening on the way home she said that the lieutenant had really wanted to dance with her first, but I had been so prompt with my “If you please” and had placed my hand on his shoulder. Of course that’s not true, but it is not a thing one would quarrel about with one’s best friend, and anyhow he danced with both of us. Unfortunately we were not able to dance very long because we got so hot. Oh, and I had almost forgotten, a captain with a black moustache saluted Frau Doktor M., for they know one another. She blushed furiously; so he is probably the man she will marry, and not Herr Prof. Wilke and not the Jewish professor. He would please me a great deal better. They were all so awfully smart! Before we left a lieutenant brought in a huge bunch of roses, and the officers gave a rose to each member of the staff, the ladies I mean. Then something awfully funny happened. There is a girl in the Sixth who looks quite old, as if she might be 24, and “our” lieutenant offered her a rose too. And then she said: “No thank you, I am not one of the staff, I’m in the Sixth.” Everyone burst out laughing, and she was quite abashed because the lieutenant had taken her for one of the staff. And the Herr Rel. Prof. said to her: “Tschapperl, you might just as well have taken it.” But really she was quite right to refuse. I think there must have been 20 officers at least. Of course Hella told the lieutenant that she was a colonel’s daughter. I wonder if we shall ever see him again.