bout Fraulein St.'s
bead bag. She bows to us all very politely when we salute her, but she
won't walk with any of the pupils, though Verbenowitsch is horribly
pushing and is always hanging about on the chance.

June 26th. It's really stupid how anxious I am now at Communion lest
the host should drop out of my mouth. I was so anxious I was very nearly
sick. Hella says there must be some reason for it, but I don't know of
any, except that the accident which that girl Lutter in the Third had
made me even more anxious that I was before. Hella says I'd better turn
Protestant, but nothing would induce me to do that; for after Com. one
feels so pure and so much better than one was before. But I'm sorry to
say it does not last so long as it ought to.

June 27th. Mother is _really_ ill. Father told me about it. He was
awfully nice and said: If only your Mother is spared to us. She is far
from well. Then I asked: Father, what is really wrong with Mother? And
Father said: "Well, dear, it's a hidden trouble, which has really been
going on for a long time and has now suddenly broken out." "Will she
have to have an operation?" "We hope we shall be able to avoid that. But
it's a terrible thing that Mother should be so ill." Father looked so
miserable when he said this that I did my best to console him and said:
"But _surely_ the mud baths will make her all right, or why should she
take them?" And Father said: "Well, darling, we'll hope for the best."
We went on talking for a long time, saying that Mother must take all
possible care of herself, and that perhaps in the autumn Aunt Dora would
come here to keep house. I asked Father, "Is it true that you don't like
Aunt Dora?" Father said: "Not a bit of it, what put that idea into
your head?" So I said: "But you do like Mother much better, don't you?"
Father laughed and said: "You little goose, of course I do, or I should
have married Aunt Dora and not Mother." I should have liked awfully
to ask Father a lot more, but I did not dare. I really do miss Dora,
especially in the evenings.

July 2nd. I was in a tremendous rage at school to-day. Professor W.,
the traitor, did not come because he had confession and communion in
the Gymnasium, and the matron did not know anything about the subject
so there was no one to take his class. Then the Herr Religionsprofessor
took it, he had come earlier than usual to write up the reports. But
since the Jewish girls were there too, of course there was n