it will
be better to say "Endt," a sort of portmanteau word of _developed_
[entwickelt] and _at last_ [endlich] . That will really be splendid
and Hella says that I happened upon it in a lucid interval. It's really
rather cheeky of her, but after all one can forgive anything to one's
friend. She absolutely insists that I must never again put her in such
a fix in class. Of course it happened because I am always thinking: Now
then, this is the day.

November 8th. On Father's and Dora's birthday Mother was so ill that
we did not keep it at all. I was in a terrible fright that Mother was
seriously ill, or even that -- -- -- -- -- No, I won't even think it;
one simply must not write it down even if one is not superstitious. Aunt
Dora came last week to keep house for Mother. We are not going skating,
for we are always afraid that Mother might get worse just when we are
away. As soon as she is able to get up for long enough Father is going
to take her to see a specialist in the _diseases of women_; so it must
be true that Mother's illness comes from _that_.

November 16th. Oh it's horrible, Mother has to have an operation; I'm so
miserable that I can't write.

November 19th. Mother is so good and dear; she wants us to go skating to
take our thoughts off the operation. But Dora says too that it would be
brutal to go skating when Mother is going to have an operation in a few
days. Father said to us yesterday evening: "Pull yourselves together
children, set your teeth and don't make things harder for your poor
Mother." But I can't help it, I cry whenever I look at Mother.

November 23rd. It is so dismal at home since Mother went away; we had
to go to school and we believed she would not leave until the afternoon,
but the carriage came in the morning. Dora says that Father had arranged
all that because I could not control myself. Well, who could? Dora cries
all day; and at school I cried a lot and so did Hella.

November 28th. Thank goodness, it's all safely over, Mother will be
home again in a fortnight. I'm so happy and only now can I realise how
_horribly_ anxious I have been. We go every day to see Mother at the
hospital; I wish I could go alone, but we always go all together, that
is either with Father or with Aunt Dora. But I suspect that Dora does
go to see Mother quite alone, she gave herself away to-day about the
flowers, she behaves as if Mother were only _her_ mother. On Thursday,
the first time we saw Mother, we a