shall be very
glad to advise her, but I don't know what it is about.

July 18th. Something splendid, we are -- -- -- But no, I must write it
all out in proper order. Oswald came home yesterday, he is in great form
and said jokingly to Dora that she is so pretty he thinks he would fall
in love with her if she were not his sister. Just before it was time to
go to supper, Mother called us in, and I was rather annoyed when I saw
that it was only a quarter to 8. Then Father came in with a paper in
his hand as he often does when he comes back from the office, and said:
"Dear Oswald and you two girls, I wanted to give you and especially
Oswald a little treat because of the matriculation." Aha, I thought, the
great prize after all! Then Father opened the paper and said: "You have
often wondered as children why we have no title of nobility like the
other Lainers. My grandfather dropped it, but I have got it back again
for you Oswald, and also for you two girls. Henceforward we shall call
ourselves Lanier von Lainsheim like Aunt Anna and your uncles." Oswald
was simply speechless and I was the first to pull myself together and
give Father a great hug. But first of all he said: "Do credit to the
name." Oswald went on clearing his throat for a frightfully long time,
and then he said: Thank you, Father, I shall always hold the name in
trust, and then they kissed one another. We were on our best behaviour
all through the evening, although Mother had ordered roast chicken and
Father had provided a bottle of champagne. I am frightfully happy; it's
so splendid and noble. Think of what the girls will say, and the staff!
I'm frantically delighted. To-morrow I must write and tell Hella all
about it.

July 19th. I've managed it beautifully. I did not want to write just: We
are now noble, so I put it all in the signature, simply writing Always
your loving friend Rita Lainer von Lainsheim. I told Resi about it first
thing this morning, but Father scolded me about that at dinner time and
said it was quite unnecessary; it seems the nobility has gone to your
head. Nothing of the sort, but it's natural that I should be frightfully
glad and Dora too has covered a whole sheet of paper writing her new
name. Father says it does not really make us any different from what
we were before, but that is not true, for if it were he would not have
bothered to revive the title. He says it will make it easier for Oswald
to get on, but I'm sure there's more i