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.
I am writing this four days after the outing. Dora told me yesterday that when I was dancing with the lieutenant the Herr Rel. Prof. said to the Frau Direktorin: “Do just look at that young Lainer; little rogue, see what eyes she’s making.” Making eyes, forsooth! I did not make eyes, besides, what does it mean anyhow to make eyes!! Of course I did not shut my eyes; if I had I should probably have fallen down, and then everyone would have laughed. And I don’t like being laughed at. I hardly saw Dora all through the outing, and she did not dance. She said very cuttingly: “Of course not, for after all we are in mourning, even if we did wear white dresses; you are only a child, for whom that sort of thing does not matter.” That sort of thing, as if I had done something dreadful! I don’t love Mother any the less, and I don’t forget her. Father was quite different; the day before yesterday evening he said: “So my little witch has made a conquest; you’re beginning early. But it’s no good taking up with an officer, little witch, they’re too expensive.” But I would like to have the lieutenant, I would go up with him in an aeroplane, up, up, till we both got quite giddy. In the religion lesson yesterday, when the Herr Prof. came in he laughed like anything and said: “Hullo, Lainer, is the world still spinning round you? The Herr Leutnant has not been able to sleep since.” So I suppose he knows him. Still, I’m quite sure that he has not lost his sleep on my account, though very likely he said so. If I only knew what his name is, perhaps Leo or Romeo; yes, Romeo, that would suit him admirably!
June 26th. When I was writing hard yesterday Aunt Alma came with Marina and that jackanapes Erwin who was really responsible for all the row that time. Since Mother died we have been meeting again. I don’t think Mother liked Aunt Alma much, nor she her. Just as Father and Aunt Dora are not particularly fond of one another. It is so in most families, the father does not care much for the mother’s brothers and sisters and vice versa. I wonder why? I wonder whether He has a fiancee, probably he has, and what she looks like. I wish I knew whether He likes brown hair or fair hair or black hair best. But about the visit! Of course Marina and I were very standoffish. She is so frightfully conceited because she goes to the Training College. As if that were something magnificent! The High School is much more important, for from the High School one goes on to the university, but not from the Training College; and they don’t learn English, nor French properly, for it is only optional. Aunt Alma knows that it annoys Father when anyone says we don’t look well, so she said: “Why, Dora looks quite overworked; thank goodness it’s nearly over, and she won’t get much out of it after all, it’s really better for a girl to become a teacher.” Erwin lounged in his chair and said to me: “Do you dare me to spit on the carpet?” “You are ill-bred enough to do it; I can’t think why Marina, the future schoolmistress, does not give you a good smacking,” said I. Then Aunt Alma chimed in: “What’s the matter children? What game are you playing?” “It’s not a game at all; Erwin wants to spit on the carpet and he seems to think that would be all right.” Then Aunt said something to him in Italian, and he pulled a long nose at me behind Father’s back, but I simply ignored it; little pig, and yet he’s my cousin! Kamillo is supposed to have been just as impudent as Bub. But we have never seen him, for he has been in Japan as an ensign for the last two years. Mourning does not suit Marina at all; there’s a provincial look about her and she can’t shake it off. Her clothes are too long and she has not got a trace of b—, although she was 17 last September; she is disgustingly thin.
June 27th. The Herr Insp. came to our class to-day, in French this time. Frau Doktor Dunker is always frightfully excited by his visits, and at the beginning of the lesson she said: “Girls, the Inspector is coming to-day; pull yourselves together; please don’t leave me in the lurch.” So it must be true what Oswald always says that the inspectors come to inspect the teachers and not the pupils. “At the inspection,” Oswald often says, “every pupil has the professor in his hands.” Being first, of course I was called upon, and I simply could not think what “trotteur” meant. I would not say “Trottel” [idiot], and so I said nothing at all. Then Anneliese turned round and whispered it to me, but of course I was not going to say it after her, but remained speechless as an owl. At length the Herr Inspektor said: “Translate the sentence right to the end, and then you’ll grasp its meaning.” But I can’t see the sense of that; for if I don’t know one of the words the sentence has no meaning, or at least not the meaning it ought to have. If Hella had not been absent to-day because of — —, she might have been able to whisper it to me. Afterwards Frau Doktor Dunker reproached me, saying that no one could ever trust anyone, and that I really did not deserve a One. “And the stupidest thing of all was that you laughed when you did not know a simple word like that.” Of course I could not tell her that my first thought had been to translate it “Trottel.” Unseen translation is really too difficult for us.
June 28th. The Staff Meeting is to-day. I’m on tenter hooks to know whether I shall have a Reprimand, or a bad conduct mark in my report. That would be awful. It does not matter so much to Hella, for her father has just gone away to manoeuvres in Hungary or in Bosnia, and by the time he is back the holidays will have begun and no one will be bothering about reports any more. So I shall know to-morrow. Oh bother, to-morrow is a holiday and next day is Sunday. So for another 2 1/2 days I shall have “to linger in suspense,” but a different sort of suspense from what Goethe wrote about.