y, but the Graf telephoned from Berlin about the Austro-Hungarian
minister having asked the Servian government for his passports and left
Belgrade. You'll know about this today too. The Grafin, still placid,
says Austria will now very properly punish Servia, both for the murder
and for the insolence of refusing her, Austria's, just demands. The
Graf merely telephoned that Servia had refused. It did seem
incredible. I did think Servia would deserve her punishing.
Yesterday's papers said the demands were most reasonable considering
what had been done. I hadn't read the Austrian note, because of the
confusion of Bernd's sudden going away, and I was full of indignation
at Servia's behaviour, piling insult on injury in this way and risking
setting Europe by the ears, but was pulled up short and set thinking by
the Grafin's looking pleased at my expressions of indignation, and her
coming over to me to pat my cheek and say, "This child will make an
excellent little German."

Then I thought I'd better wait and know more before sweeping Servia out
of my disgusted sight. There are probably lots of other things to
know. Kloster will tell me. I find I have a profound distrust really
of these people. I don't mean of particular people, like the
Koseritzes and the Klosters and their friends, but of Germans in the
mass. It is a sort of deep-down discomfort of spirit, the discomfort
of disagreement in fundamentals.

"Then there'll be war?" I said to the Grafin, staring at her placid
face, and not a bit pleased about being going to be an excellent little
German.

"Oh, a punitive expedition only," she said.

"Bernd thought it would mean Russia and France and you as well," I said.

"Oh, Bernd--he is in love," said the Grafin, smiling.

"I don't quite see--" I began.

"Lovers always exaggerate," she said. "Russia and France will not
interfere in so just a punishment."

"But is it just?" I asked.

She gazed at me critically at this. It was not, she evidently
considered, a suitable remark for one whose business it was to turn
into an excellent little German. "Dear child," she said, "you cannot
suppose that our ally, the Kaiser's ally, would make demands that are
not just?"

"Do you think Friday's papers are still anywhere about?" was my answer.
"I'd like to read the Austrian note, and think it over for myself. I
haven't yet."

The Grafin smiled at this, and rang the bell. "I expect
Dorner"--Dorner is the butler-