August 3rd, Anneliese wrote to me: “You heart of gold, so you are able to forgive my sins of youth? The world shines with a new light since I received your letter.” I don’t know that my letter was so forgiving as all that, for all I said was that I was very sorry she was so lonely in Gratsch, and that we could not alter the past, so we had better bury it. She sends me a belated birthday greeting (last winter we told one another when our birthdays were), and she sends me a great pressed forget-me-not. She waited to answer until it had been pressed. I don’t know quite what I had better do. Big Siegfried could no doubt give me very good advice, but I can’t very well tell him the whole story, for then I should have to tell him why we quarrelled, and that would be awful. I had better write to Hella before I answer. I must write to-day, for it will be quite three days before I can get an answer, and then 1 or two days more before Anneliese gets the letter, so that will be 5 days at least. It is raining in torrents, so it is very dull, for Father won’t let us sit in the hall alone; I can’t think why. Generally speaking Father’s awfully kind, quite different from other fathers, but this is really disgusting of him. I shall lie down on the sofa after dinner and read _Immensee_, for I’ve not had a chance before.
August 6th. Well, the whole tribe arrived to-day; Marina in a dust-grey coat and skirt that fits her abominably, and Erwin and Ferdinand; Ferdinand is going through the artillery course in Vienna, at the Neustadt military academy; he’s the most presentable of the lot. Uncle was in a frightful temper, growling about the journey and about the handbaggage, I think they must have had 8 or 10 packages, at least I had to carry a heavy travelling rug and Dora a handbag of which she said that it contained the accumulated rubbish of 10 years. Aunt Alma’s appearance was enough to give one fits, a tweed dress kilted up so high that one saw her brown stockings as she walked, and a hat like a scarecrow’s. When I think how awfully well dressed _Mother_ always was, and how nice she always looked; of course Mother was at least 20 years younger than Aunt Alma, but even if Mother had lived to be 80 she would never have looked like _that_. Thank goodness, on the way from the station we did not meet any one, and above all we did not meet _him_. For once in a way they all came to dinner at our boarding house. We had two tables put together, and I seized the opportunity to change my place, for I offered Aunt Alma the place next Father and seated myself beside the lovely Marina, exactly opposite -- -- --! Anyway, Marina looked quite nice at dinner, for her white blouse suits her very well, and she has a lovely complexion, so white, with just a touch of pink in the cheeks. But that is her only beauty. The way she does her hair is hideous, parted and brushed quite smooth, with two pigtails. I’ve given them up long ago, though everyone said they suited me very well. But “snails” suit me a great deal better. _He_ looked across at me the whole time, and Aunt Alma said: “Grete is blossoming out, I hope there’s not a man in the case already.” “Oh no,” said Father, “country air does her such a lot of good, and when I take the children away for a change I don’t forbid any innocent pleasures.” My darling Father, I had to keep a tight hand on myself so as not to kiss him then and there. They were all so prim, with their eyes glued to their plates as if they had never eaten rum pudding before. It is true that Ferdinand winked at Marina, but of course she noticed nothing. They soon put away their first helps, and they all took a second, and then they went on talking. When we went to our rooms I knocked at Father’s door and gave him the promised kiss and said: “You really are a jewel of a Father.” “Well, will you, if you please, be a jewel of a daughter, and keep the peace with Marina and the others?” I said: “Oh dear, I simply can’t stand her, she’s such a humbug!” “Oh well,” said Father, “it may be a pity, but you know one can’t choose one’s parents and one’s relations.” “I would not have chosen any different parents, for we could not have found another Father and another Mother like you.” Then Father lifted me right up into the air as if I had still been a little girl, saying: “You are a little treasure,” and we kissed one another heartily. I really do like Father better than anyone in the world; for the way I like Hella is quite different, she is my friend, and Dora is my sister; and I like Aunt Dora too, and Oswald _if_ I ever see him again.