We were so much upset that we did not go for a walk, and of course did not go to the raffle. But I’m frightfully sorry about those things I paid 7 crowns for. I do hope he did not win any of them.
August 15th. Just a few words more. Early this morning, as I was going to breakfast, in the corridor I met S. (it’s a good thing that is the initial both of his name and of Strick [rascal] as Father called him) and he said: “Good morning, Fraulein Gretchen. Why weren’t you at the raffle? Hadn’t you any share?”--“Oh yes, I had bought 7 crowns worth for it, but I had no fancy for the company I should meet.” -- -- Why, what has taken you all of a sudden? They were the same people as at the excursion! -- -- -- “Precisely for that reason,” said I, and passed on. I think I gave him what for, for he simply must have understood. Father is really quite right, and it is not at all nice to abuse one’s parents to strangers as he is always doing. I could not say a word against my parents to anyone, although I’m often frightfully angry with them; of course not about Mother, for she is dead. But not even about Father; I would rather choke down the greatest injustice. For when we had that trouble with Aunt Alma about Marina, I was really not in the least to blame, but he scolded me so, even while Aunt Alma was there, so that I can never forget it. But still, to a stranger, to some one whom I had only just got to know, I would never say a word against anyone in our family; though I used to get on so badly with Dora, I never said much against her even to Hella; at most that she was deceitful, and that really used to be so, though she seldom is now.
August 19th. It is so filthyly dull here; I can’t bear the word filthy, but it’s the only one that’s strong enough. Oswald is coming this evening, at last. Thank goodness. S. has made several _advances_, but I have _ignored_ them. Let him stick to his actress who can go out walking with him half the night. I really _should_ like to know where they went. In the night, I never heard of such a thing! Dora says she took a dislike to S. from the first because he -- -- -- -- -- it’s an absolute lie! -- -- -- has clammy! hands. It’s simply not true, on the contrary he has such entrancingly cool hands, I’m sure I must know that better than Dora. But I’ve known for a long time that whenever anyone pays _me_ attention Dora is _unsympathetic_, naturally enough. By the way, on Sunday I got a charming letter from Anneliese. I must answer it to-day.
