ccasion whatever to be jealous." I wish
I knew how I could manage that change of places, but I always sit
next Father; anyhow I would not do it directly; next week at soonest.
Farewell, my Hero Siegfried, sleep sweetly and dream of -- --.

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