sweets and R. won a knife, fork and spoon. That annoyed him frightfully.
Inspee won a fountain pen, just what I want, and a mirror which makes
one look a perfect fright. A good job too, for she fancies herself such
a lot.

August 29th. O dear, such an awful thing has happened. I have lost pages
30 to 34 from my diary. I must have left them in the garden, or else on
the Louisenhohe. It's positively fiendish. If anyone was to find them.
And I don't know exactly what there was on those pages. I was born
to ill luck. If I hadn't promised Hella to write my diary every day I
should like to give up the whole thing. Fancy if Mother were to get hold
of it, or even Father. And it's raining so fearfully to-day that I can't
even go into the garden and still less on the Louisenhohe above all not
alone. I must have lost it the day before yesterday, for I didn't write
anything yesterday or the day before. It would be dreadful if anyone
were to find it. I am so much upset that I couldn't eat anything at
dinner, although we had my favourite chocolate cream cake. And I'm so
unhappy for Father was quite anxious and Mother too and they both
asked what was the matter with me and I nearly burst out crying before
everyone. We had dinner in the hotel to-day because Resi had gone away
for 2 days. But I couldn't cry in the room before Father and Mother for
that would have given the show away. My only hope is that no one will
recognise my writing, for Hella and I use upright writing for our diary,
first of all so that no one may recognise our writing and secondly
because upright writing doesn't use up so much paper as ordinary
writing. I do hope it will be fine to-morrow so that I can hunt in the
garden very early. I have been utterly in the dumps all day so that I
didn't even get cross when Inspee said: "Have you been quarrelling with
your future husband?"

August 30th. It's not in the garden. I begged Mother to let us go to
Louisenhutte this afternoon. Mother was awfully nice and asked what I
was so worried about, and whether anything had happened. Then I couldn't
keep it in any longer and burst out crying. Mother said I must have
lost something, and this gave me an awful fright. Mother thought it was
Hella's letter, the one which came on Tuesday, so I said: No, much worse
than that, my diary. Mother said: Oh well, that's not such a terrible
loss, and will be of no interest to anyone. Oh yes, I said, for there
are all sorts of things written in it about R. and his society. Look
here, Gretel, said Mother, I don't like this way you talk about R.; I
really don't like you to spend all your time with the Warths; they're
really not our sort and R. is not a fit companion for you; now that
you are going to the high school you are not a little girl any longer.
Promise me that you'll not be eternally with the Warths.--All right,
Mother, I will break it off gradually so that nobody will notice. She
burst out laughing and kissed me on both cheeks and promised me to
say nothing to Inspee about the diary for she needn't know everything.
Mother is such a dear. Still 3 hours and perhaps the pages are still
there.

Evening. Thank goodness! In front of the shelter I found 2 pages all
pulped by the rain and the writing all run and one page was in the
footpath quite torn. Someone must have trodden on it with the heel of
his boot and 2 pages had been rolled into a spill and partly burned. So
no one had read anything. I am so happy. And at supper Father said: I
say, why are your eyes shining with delight? Have you won the big prize
in the lottery? and I pressed Mother's foot with mine to remind her not
to give me away and Father laughed like anything and said: Seems to me
there's a conspiracy against me in my own house. And I said in a great
hurry: Luckily we're not in our own house but in a hotel, and everyone
laughed and now thank goodness it's all over. Live and learn. I won't
let that happen again.

August 31st. Really I'm not so much with the W's and with R. I think
he's offended. This afternoon, when I went there to tea, he seized me
by the wrist and said: Your father is right, you're a witch. "You need
a castigation." How rude of him. Besides, I didn't know what castigation
meant. I asked Father and he told me and asked where I had picked up the
word. I said I had passed 2 gentlemen and had heard one of them use it.
What I really thought was that castigation meant tickling. But it is
really horrid to have no one to talk to. Most of the people have gone
already and we have only a week longer. About that castigation business.
I don't like fibbing to Father, but I really had to. I couldn't say that
R. wanted to give me a castigation when I didn't know what it meant.
Dora tells a lot more lies than I do and I always love catching her in a
lie for her lies are so obvious. I'm never caught. It only happened once
when Frau Oberst von Stary was there. Father noticed that time, for he
said: You little rogue, you tarradiddler!

September 3rd. Such a horrid thing has happened. I shall never speak to
R. again. Oswald is quite right in calling him a cad. If I had really
fallen out of the swing I might have broken my leg 4 days before we
have to start from home. I can't make out how it all happened. It was
frightful cheek of him to tickle me as he did, and I gave him such a
kick. I think it was on his nose or his mouth. Then he actually dared to
say: After all I'm well paid out, for what can one expect when one keeps
company with such young monkeys, with such babies. Fine talk from him
when he's not 14 himself yet. It was all humbug about his being 15 and
he seems to be one of the idlest boys in the school, never anything but
Satisfactory in his reports, and he's not in the fifth yet, but only in
the fourth. Anyhow, we've settled our accounts. Cheeky devil. I shall
never tell anyone about it, it will be my first and I hope my last
secret from Hella.

September 6th. We are going home to-morrow. The last few days have been
awfully dull. I saw R. once or twice but I always looked the other way.
Father asked what was wrong between me and the Warths and R., so that
our great friendship had been broken off. Of course I had to fib, for
it was absolutely _impossible_ to tell the truth. I said that R. found
fault with everything I did, my writing, my reading aloud. (That's quite