HKB
way I like Hella is quite different, she is my friend, and Dora is my sister; and I like Aunt Dora too, and Oswald if I ever see him again.
August 8th. Oh, I am so furious! To-day I got a postcard from Hella, with nothing on it but “Follow your own bent, with best wishes, your M.” When we write postcards we always use a cipher which no one else can understand, so that M. means H. It’s a good thing no one can understand it. Of course I wrote to Anneliese directly, and was most affectionate, and I sent a postcard to Hella, in our cipher, with nothing more than: Have done so, with best wishes, W. Not even your W. I do wonder what she will do. Hero Siegfried was lying with us to-day in the hayfield, and what he said was lovely. But I can’t agree that all fathers without exception* are tyrants. I said: “*My Father isn’t!” He rejoined: “Not yet, but you will find out in time. However, anyone with a character of his own won’t allow himself to be suppressed. I simply broke with my Old Man and left home; there are other technical schools besides the one in Brunn. And since you say not all fathers; well just look at Hulda; whenever anyone fell in love with her the Old Man marred her chance, for no one can stand such tutelage.” “Tutelage, what do you mean,” said I, but just at that moment everyone got up to go away. To-morrow perhaps, poor persecuted man.
August 9th. Oh dear, it’s horrible if it’s all really true what Hella writes about being infected; an eruption all over the body, that is the most horrible thing in the world. I must tear up her letter directly, and since she could not write 8 whole pages in our cipher, I must absolutely destroy it, so that no one can get hold of a fragment of it. Above all now that Marina is here, for you never can tell -- -- --. But I know what I’ll do; I’ll copy the letter here, even if it takes 2 or 3 days. She writes:
Darling Rita, what did you say when you got yesterday’s postcard. If you were angry, you must make it up with me. Consort with whom you please and write to whom you please; but all the consequences be on your own head. Father always says: Beware of red hair! And I insist that the “innocent child” has foxy red hair. But you can think what you like.
Now I’ve got something much more important to tell you. But you must promise me dirst that you will tear up my letter directly you have read it. Otherwise please send it back to me unread.