JULIE'S DIARY

 
 UCSB LIBRARY
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 A PERSONAL RECORD 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 JOHN W. LUCE AND COMPANY 
 1908
 
 Authorized translation, 
 
 1908, issued by 
 
 JOHN W. LUCE AND COMPANY 
 BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 THIS book was mother's Christmas 
 present to me, and in it I am going 
 to write all my thoughts and everything 
 that happens in my life. I don't mean to 
 flatter myself. I intend to write down 
 the good as well as the bad. In this way 
 the diary will be a truthful mirror. But 
 I wonder when the book is finished, if it 
 will tell the tale of a happy or a sad life? 
 Will it be like a novel with exciting pages, 
 or will it perchance be merely nothing? 
 Beginning the book I ask these questions 
 with anxious curiosity, meanwhile recom- 
 mending myself and my book to the 
 mercy of all good powers. 
 
 Copenhagen, The Avenue, 
 27th December, 1905. 
 
 JULIE MATHILDE MAGENS, 
 
 Born the 23rd of April, 1886, 
 Daughter of Flowerpainter and Professor 
 
 HOLGER MAGENS.
 
 2 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE, 12.30. 
 
 HOW solemn is the thought that the 
 old year is finished, and that out of 
 the gloom and darkness of the winter- 
 night dawns the new year. Once more a 
 year has passed what has it brought me ? 
 Once more a year is beginning what will 
 it bring me ? I can answer the first ques- 
 tion. The old year brought me nothing. 
 When I think of it, it seems to me like a 
 long, straight road, a road without a 
 break, without colour, without change. 
 A series of quiet walks all of equal length, 
 all in the same direction, and all through 
 the same melancholy surroundings. How 
 I see it all! In the morning dear little 
 mother and I walking along the Old 
 King's Road to town to do our shopping. 
 We walk quietly, gliding along amongst 
 the many people as though we did not be- 
 long to them. We know only a few, and 
 still fewer know us. Yet in a way they 
 all know us, for we belong to the constant 
 wayfarers of the road. 'The widow and
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 3 
 
 her daughter' we once heard a man say 
 as we passed. We smiled when we heard 
 the remark, the words seemed appropri- 
 ate. Mother, small and slender, always 
 dressed in black ; I tall and thin perhaps 
 rather angular not very smartly dressed, 
 yet on the whole rather nicely. We never 
 stop on our way, we walk, assiduously 
 along, as if it was our business to walk, 
 and we look neither to the right nor to 
 the left. Still this is not quite truthful, 
 or at all events only as far as mother is 
 concerned, for I constantly glance about 
 me out of the corner of my eyes. 
 
 We return home, and it is dinner-time. 
 The family gathers. How cold it is in 
 the dining-room, in spite of the rose and 
 fruit garlands with which father has deco- 
 rated the walls. Mother, Frantz (a long 
 overgrown boy of sixteen) and I take our 
 seats first, then father enters from his 
 studio. He is tall and thin, and always 
 dressed in a long coat of grey material; 
 he always feels cold and is always suffer-
 
 4 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ing from some ailment or other. I be- 
 lieve it is he who brings the cold with him 
 into the room. He looks sharply at us 
 through his gold-rimmed glasses, nods 
 and sits down without saying a word. 
 We eat our dinner as if we were perform- 
 ing a sad duty. We eat very little to get 
 as quickly as possible through the meal. 
 That is the reason we are all thin and pale 
 like the plants which grow in the shadow. 
 That image struck me one day as we left 
 the table. As we stood there, three tall, 
 one short, I suddenly thought of a calla 
 we had years ago. We fancied it was 
 dead, and left it in a dark room facing 
 the yard. But one morning when I en- 
 tered the place, I saw that it had got four 
 new shoots, slender and palish green, each 
 ending in some tiny, transparent leaves. 
 The conversation at dinner cannot be 
 called lively. It always begins with 
 mother asking father, 'How do you feel 
 to-day, Holger? Has your head been 
 very bad?' To which the answer invari-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 5 
 
 ably is, 'Oh, if it was only a headache I 
 wouldn't mind very much, but those ter- 
 rible pains in my back worry the life out 
 of me.' Next day mother starts on the 
 subject of the back, and it is pretty cer- 
 tain to be the head that is the most worry- 
 ing. 
 
 Otherwise the entertainment at dinner 
 is provided by Master Frantz, who has 
 an elaborate repertoire of small vices. 
 Frantz, who is at college in the second 
 form, is constantly suspected of laziness, 
 of a life of recklessness in the way of ex- 
 cessive enjoyment of cigarettes and clan- 
 destine drinks. He also arouses the dis- 
 pleasure of my aesthetic papa by a certain 
 slackness in manners, by holding his 
 knife and fork carelessly, by rocking on his 
 chair, by neglecting his nails, etc. Thus 
 our dinner is seasoned in a most delight- 
 ful way. 
 
 The evening is the oasis of the day. 
 When Frantz has retired to his lessons or 
 his clandestine drink, and father at ten
 
 6 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 o'clock has said good-night, mother and I 
 have a cosy chat. We open the door of 
 the stove so that we can see the fire shine 
 through the grating, we put the red shade 
 on the lamp, and make ourselves comfort- 
 able on the couch. What do we talk 
 about? About everything and nothing, 
 from the greatest to the smallest, about 
 what we have seen in the papers, about 
 books we have read, about life's great 
 problems, about family events old and 
 new, but above all we talk of love. To 
 hear mother talk of love is so beautiful 
 and so touching, that it brings tears to 
 my eyes. Poor little mother with her big 
 warm heart, who was born to be treated 
 gently by life. Surely she must have had 
 a romance in her young days. It can- 
 not possibly be memories from her mar- 
 ried life that fill her thoughts with so 
 much poetry. She did not marry father 
 until she was twenty-seven years old, both 
 her parents had died without leaving her 
 a penny. But it is loveliest of all when
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 7 
 
 mother tells me of her home, where life 
 was lived in great and merry style and 
 with musical evenings, dances, and sleigh- 
 ing parties. Ah, grandfather, grand- 
 father, why did you squander all your 
 money, so that none of the pleasures were 
 left for your poor little grand-daughter? 
 And you, lovely and wonderful grand- 
 mother, about whom the legends tell fas- 
 cinating, naughty fairy-tales, why did I 
 not know you, you splendid woman, who 
 on your marriage day, tired of the great 
 feast and rejoicing of friends, escaped 
 with grandfather and flew off in a sleigh 
 drawn by four horses to the brightly lit 
 country inn, where you two alone con- 
 tinued the feast you two alone. 
 
 If you from your I am sure radi- 
 ant heaven, could follow your family's 
 earthly strife, I think you would pity 
 mother and me for the way in which we 
 have kept New Year's eve. In our home 
 it is not the habit, as it was in yours, to 
 honour the old year with ringing fare-
 
 8 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 wells from friends gathered round a fes- 
 tive board, or bidding the New Year wel- 
 come to the merry popping of the cham- 
 pagne corks. 
 
 We sat quite alone, mother and I, wait- 
 ing for the New Year. Each in her own 
 corner of the sofa we sat huddled up, sat 
 during two long hours, not having the 
 heart to commence our usual talk. But 
 when the old, worn-out bells of the grand- 
 father clock, with their wheezy notes, 
 sounded the midnight chime, we started 
 up and listened, and a curious fear crept 
 over me. It was foolish, but I seemed to 
 feel that an hour of decision was near. 
 Each time the chime rang out it seemed 
 to say, 'Now is your time now is your 
 time' until the strokes of the hour ended 
 with a tingling sound as of distant sleigh- 
 ing bells. Then mother took me in her 
 arms, bent over me, and said, as she kissed 
 me: 'You big ugly darling, may God 
 make the New Year bright and happy for 
 you.' And when I answered, 'Thank
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 9 
 
 you for the old year, darling mother,' she 
 patted my cheek and said, 'Alas, that you 
 have so little to thank me for,' and shortly 
 after, with her eyes full of tears, she said, 
 'I am afraid things at home are not so 
 happy as they might be for my little girl. 
 It is a different thing when one is finished 
 with life, but young blood needs sunlight.' 
 'But I have got you, mother sweet,' I 
 whispered. She stood up, smiled, and 
 said with that roguish twinkle which she 
 sometimes has, 'Are girls nowadays so 
 easily satisfied?' Then we kissed each 
 other good-night and parted. 
 
 I knew what she meant. She meant 
 Erik. Yes, you dear far-off friend, 
 whose few and short letters have been the 
 shooting stars in this year of darkness. 
 If you knew what dangerous conspiracy 
 against your liberty we are planning here, 
 I wonder if you would ever return? 
 
 Ah well, perhaps you would all the 
 same. But if you knew in what an ugly 
 and mercenary way I am speculating in
 
 10 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 you, you would quite rightly despise me. 
 For when I ask myself, if I love you, the 
 answer is no and yet, if at this moment 
 you entered the room and asked me if I 
 would be your wife, I would say yes with- 
 out hesitation. For you are the only raft 
 in sight my only chance of escape from 
 this sad wreck, my home, and I cry out 
 into this New Year's eve, help, help if 
 you heard me and came to me I promise 
 you I would make you a good and faith- 
 ful wife, always be fond of you, never 
 forget what I owed you. I have learned 
 not to ask too much of life. All I ask 
 for now is liberty. Yes, mother, you are 
 right. I am not happy here, I am long- 
 ing for warmth and sunshine, I am a poor, 
 pale calla forgotten in a dark room. 
 
 I have read through what I have writ- 
 ten, and it makes me feel ashamed of my- 
 self. Here have I, the Julie Magens 
 they at school called Puck, been sitting, 
 letting the ink drop from my pen like 
 tears. You ought to be ashamed of your-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 11 
 
 self, dear lady; dry your eyes, and greet 
 the New Year with a smiling face. Of 
 course it will bring you something good if 
 you will only stretch out your hands hope- 
 fuDy. Perhaps the morning will bring 
 me a greeting from Erik. But if in the 
 morning, or rather to-day, I should get a 
 New Year's greeting from him, 
 
 Then girls in dance will sway 
 With roses all the way, 
 The merry music play 
 On Julie's wedding day. 
 
 This is my very own poem. 
 
 1 st OF JAN. 
 
 WELL, I have reason to be in excel- 
 lent spirits. I had a letter from 
 Erik. It was quite a long letter, full of 
 love-like longing for his 'foster-sister' 
 Julie. Erik has nearly spent the money 
 his father gave him for his studies in Vi- 
 enna; he has also a flattering offer to en-
 
 12 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ter into business with one of the most able 
 of our young architects. If his father 
 will only advance the necessary capital, 
 Erik will return within a few weeks, 
 and 'I have then something very impor- 
 tant to talk to you about,' he says in his 
 letter. 
 
 In other words, within a month I shall 
 be engaged to Mr. Architect Erik Glerup, 
 and we will be married next April. We 
 will take a five-roomed flat ; we will order 
 our furniture from the designs Erik made 
 last Christmas, when we jokingly dis- 
 cussed how we would like to arrange our 
 flat. We will have a charming and com- 
 fortable home, lead a sociable life in a 
 quiet way, now and again we will go to 
 the theatre and sit in good seats, we will 
 become respected citizens, we won't owe 
 anything to anybody ; on the contrary, we 
 will put something by each year, and for 
 every ten thousand crowns we have in the 
 bank we will allow ourselves a new luxury. 
 We will end by being well off, perhaps by
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 13 
 
 having a title, and by getting the order 
 of Danebrog. 
 
 And when 'Etatsraadinde' Julie Gle- 
 rup, President of the Society for 'the Nu- 
 trition of Infants,' full of years and hon- 
 our entering into the peace of death, looks 
 back over her past life, she finds it grey 
 grey, prosaically honourable honourably 
 dull, which is just what she hates and de- 
 tests most of all. 
 
 But even now when she is neither pro- 
 saic, nor honourable, nor 'Etatsraadinde,' 
 and knows to a nicety what the future will 
 bring when she is married to the good, re- 
 spectable, and clever Erik, she will do it 
 all the same, do it because she is a coward, 
 who, in spite of all heretical thoughts and 
 ideas, is ready to creep into a corner for 
 fear of other people's criticism. It is 
 only in her thoughts and dreams that she 
 has courage enough to wander from that 
 little sod of earth, on which she is sure of 
 finding food. For was not her coward- 
 ice distinctly proved, when three years
 
 14 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ago, declaring heroically that she could 
 not stand it any longer, she left her home, 
 only to return five hours later like a 
 naughty little girl to be greeted by her 
 father's punishment and her mother's 
 tears. 
 
 When I think that this ridiculous flight 
 is the one brave deed of my life, I must 
 blushingly admit that I do not seem to 
 have been born for anything more exalted 
 than to be 'Etatsraadinde,' and that I, on 
 the contrary, ought to thank Heaven on 
 bended knees if I get so far. Therefore, 
 hurrah for Erik's letter! It is a Christ- 
 mas message to me. It promises me that 
 before Midsummer Day I shall be a mar- 
 ried woman, and the envy of all my 
 women friends which, after all, is better 
 than nothing. 
 
 As this is New Year's Day, there has 
 been a gala dinner for the family at 
 grandmama's. Considering that grand- 
 mama is father's mother, she really is an 
 amiable old lady. Deep in her heart, I
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 15 
 
 believe, grandmama is seriously an- 
 noyed with father's behaviour, if it is pos- 
 sible to use such a definite word in regard 
 to grandmother's mental attitude. She sits 
 immovable, planted amongst pillows on 
 her old, straight mahogany sofa, over 
 which hangs grandpapa's portrait in oil 
 father's first big picture. He is a stiff, 
 lean, ascetic-looking clergyman, dressed 
 in full bishop's robes, with the ribbon of 
 the Grand Order round his neck. 
 Grandmama is like a wax figure, not a 
 muscle quivers in her large, regular, white 
 face, surrounded by the goffered ruche of 
 her cap. For the last two years she has 
 not even had a piece of knitting in her 
 hands. She sits like a symbol of peaceful 
 old age, free from strife and worry. She 
 speaks in the same monotonous voice, 
 whether she expresses joy or sorrow, and 
 she talks as slowly as if the finding of each 
 word was an effort. But in the almost 
 extinguished face burn two dear dark 
 eyes, with a curious, strong fire. They
 
 16 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 can look at one so steadfastly, and so lov- 
 ingly, they can question in such a sweet, 
 understanding way, that one feels tempted 
 to throw oneself on her neck and weep 
 away all one's foolish sorrows on her quiet 
 old heart. 
 
 The menu at grandmama's New Year's 
 dinner is as unchangeable as she is her- 
 self : a real family soup, strong, spicy, and 
 scented with many vegetables in which 
 float balls of forcemeat, then boiled plaice, 
 followed by an enormous round of beef, 
 red and juicy. After that, home-made 
 apple cake. With this we drink claret, 
 which is not too generously poured out, 
 but which it is almost a crime to drink, 
 so intoxicatingly beautiful is its perfume : 
 it is a relic from the days of my right rev- 
 erend grandfather, who died fifteen years 
 ago. At dessert Madeira is handed 
 round. 
 
 I cannot say that grandmama's dinners 
 are very amusing, and yet how cosy and 
 comfortable her home is. All inharmoni-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 17 
 
 ous things must depart in the presence of 
 this dignified old age, even father does 
 his best to be more sociable. What a 
 wonderful appetite it gives one to see 
 grandmama with her kind eyes watching 
 to see that each one gets something really 
 nice and tempting, and to hear her hos- 
 pitable invitation to second helpings. I 
 smile to think how greedy I am at these 
 dinners, where we linger over each dish, 
 which is handed round with festive dignity 
 by an old maid-servant in a spotless, old- 
 fashioned apron; not to mention Frantz, 
 who stuffs himself with quite indecent 
 gluttony. 
 
 At the dessert grandma lifts her glass 
 and says, always in the same words : 'Then 
 let us drink a happy New Year to every 
 one, but most of all to the young people.' 
 When to-day I clinked my glass against 
 hers, for I sat next to her at dinner, she 
 looked at me for a long time, with her 
 large eyes and said, 'I drink to you!' 
 'Thank you, grandmama.' She looked
 
 18 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 again at me and said, 'Am I not right?' 
 -'In what, grandmama?' 'I won't say 
 any more, I am only asking.' I blushed, 
 but the others laughed. 
 
 I wonder if anybody has spoken to her 
 about Erik. What else could she mean? 
 
 Grandmama is not rich; she has just 
 sufficient to live comfortably in her simple 
 way, but by being economical in daily life, 
 she can afford now and then to give us 
 little presents, sometimes a few shillings 
 for theatre tickets, sometimes a gold piece 
 to buy something useful. 
 
 She always hands her presents to us in 
 a curiously secretive way, and she does not 
 like us to speak about what she has given 
 us. When to-day, for instance, after 
 dinner, I sat with her on her sofa, I no- 
 ticed that she was gently pulling my 
 sleeve. I peeped down and saw that she 
 had pushed something white over to me. 
 It was two two-crown pieces carefully 
 wrapped in white paper, on which was
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 19 
 
 written, 'For you and Frantz to see the 
 new play.' 
 
 So if we can get tickets we are going to 
 see Suleima on Wednesday. I am so ex- 
 cited about it. You sweet old grand- 
 mama! 
 
 2 nd OF JAN. 
 
 GOT up early and was busy till lunch. 
 'Busy' means that I painted. I am 
 painting under father's supervision, and 
 at present I am working on a floral dinner 
 service for the young Countess B. . . . 
 After lunch, I practised for an hour, then 
 I went to town with mother, but did not 
 meet a single interesting person. After 
 dinner I helped mother to go through the 
 linen. Played a little for her in the even- 
 ing. Went to bed early.
 
 20 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 3 rd OF JAN. 
 
 WENT to St. Matthew's church with 
 mother. Lunch. Walk. Din- 
 ner. Did some embroidery. Not a visi- 
 tor all day long. Not a letter. What 
 one would call a delightful Sunday. 
 
 4 th AND 5 th OF JAN. 
 
 I PUT these two days together, be- 
 cause they have the same words and 
 music. Got up early, busy till lunch. 
 Practised after lunch for an hour and so 
 on (for the rest see the 2nd of Jan.). I 
 note for the sake of variety that we have 
 got a new neighbour, a young man, ap- 
 parently rich. He has taken the entire 
 flat in the fourth floor opposite. In the 
 morning, when I am sitting in the bay- 
 window working, I am entertained by see- 
 ing this young gentleman finishing his 
 toilette. Without the slightest embar- 
 rassment he goes through his process of 
 self -adornment, such as shaving and do-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 21 
 
 ing his hair in front of his bedroom win- 
 dow. The window-sill is filled with an 
 array of jars and bottles, combs and 
 brushes, and in this laboratory our neigh- 
 bour works for an hour, his face express- 
 ing the most profound seriousness. I 
 have tried to make him ashamed of him- 
 self by ostentatiously pulling down the 
 blind in my window, but without the slight- 
 est effect. When I lowered the blind, he 
 merely glanced up at the sky to see 
 whether the sun could possibly be worry- 
 ing me, after which he continued serenely 
 to part his hair. On the whole I rather 
 like him. He possesses a natural arro- 
 gance which attracts me, a certain con- 
 ceit which I envy him; I think he is what 
 I should call a fascinating rascal. I'll 
 try to find out who he is and what he is. 
 
 To-morrow night Suleima. How 
 lovely to go to bed with the knowledge 
 that there is something delicious in store 
 for me the next day. Suleima, oh, that 
 I were Suleima! That I were the bride
 
 22 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 of a handsome Arab chief, and could lie 
 with my beloved near the singing brook 
 under the tall palm-trees, or could fly 
 with him on his fiery horse over the wide 
 plain under a radiant sky. Good-night, 
 Suleima, I will dream I am in your place. 
 
 6 th OF JAN. 
 
 SULEIMA' was a disappointment. 
 Yet the music was beautiful 
 sensuously drowsy, passionately exultant, 
 so wondrously free from moral scruples. 
 But only one scene made an impression 
 on me. Suleima lies down to rest in her 
 father's tent, when an hostile Arab tribe 
 breaks into the camp, and the chief, lift- 
 ing Suleima from her couch, bears her 
 away with him. Suleima has been dream- 
 ing, and the abduction must be imagined 
 to be a continuation of her dream. She 
 sees the white-robed Sheik bending over 
 her; she meets his admiring gaze, and 
 hardly awake, she allows herself to be
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 23 
 
 carried away, partly paralysed with fear, 
 partly captivated by his magnetism and 
 by the fantastic violence of the situation. 
 
 The part of the young Sheik was beau- 
 tifully played, though perhaps it was not 
 intended that so much passion and poetry 
 should be thrown into the scene of the ab- 
 duction. Anyhow, though the part of 
 the Sheik was very small, and he disap- 
 peared altogether in the later acts, his per- 
 formance was for me the most striking 
 feature of the evening. 
 
 I have never seen this young actor be- 
 fore. I am sure he has great talent. 
 Now and again I have seen his name in 
 the papers, but I do not think that he was 
 mentioned in the notices of the play. 
 
 His name is Alfred Morch. 
 
 7 th OF JAN. BEFORE NOON. 
 
 I HAD a curious dream last night. I 
 stood in the desert. How I came 
 there I do not know. When the dream
 
 24 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 began I was standing in the middle of a 
 great sand-plain. I must have walked 
 a long way, for I was so tired that I could 
 hardly move my feet, which dragged after 
 me as if they were chained with heavy 
 leaden weights. Neither could I breathe. 
 A stifling heat, which rilled my mouth, 
 nose, and ears, stopped me from breathing. 
 Yet no sun shone in my desert. A grey 
 and woolly sky seemed to close down over 
 me more and more. It looked like a gi- 
 gantic felt carpet, which would presently 
 smother me. The sand was not white, 
 but a yellow brown, and sulphurous fume 
 ascended from it. I felt that in a few 
 moments I should be dead. I did not re- 
 bel. I did not even try to cry for help, 
 but wept quietly. Then I thought I be- 
 came unconscious, and I dreamt that I 
 had fallen asleep. In the dream of my 
 dream I heard distant, soothing music I 
 remember thinking to myself 'Now they 
 are playing at my funeral' but the music 
 grew stronger and stronger. I heard
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 25 
 
 trumpets and bassoons and joyous flutes. 
 Then I seemed to float through an atmos- 
 phere of wild music which came to me 
 from everywhere, and again I thought to 
 myself 'You must make haste and 
 waken, or you will be late for the great 
 feast/ And in my dream I woke. I 
 stood again in the desert, but the music 
 played on, and I heard a voice call 'Su- 
 leimal' I looked round, and saw far 
 away on the horizon something white and 
 shining, which came nearer and nearer in 
 flying haste. Then I called out, 'My 
 white Sheik, my bridegroom, my saviour.' 
 All around me it grew brighter, the 
 clouds lifted, leaving the dome of heaven 
 clear and pure. I felt a fresh breeze, 
 which came from a stream close by, and 
 there in a whirl of music he rode towards 
 me on his black horse, his white cloak 
 flowing round him. 
 
 Then I awoke, and by my bed stood 
 mother smiling and saying, 'You lazy 
 girl, you have slept far into the morning,
 
 26 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 but you looked so sweet, while you slept, 
 I had not the heart to wake you. I have 
 been standing here watching you for the 
 last ten minutes.' 
 
 8 th OF JAN. 
 
 ALL day yesterday I was in high spir- 
 its. I wonder why, for nothing ex- 
 citing happened. The hours passed with 
 the usual routine, and father was as like 
 an undertaker as ever. All the same, my 
 heart danced and sang within me, and 
 everything seemed bright and merry. I 
 astonished them all with my gaiety. 
 During our walk, mother had constantly 
 to remind me that it was not nice to laugh 
 so loudly in the streets, and in the after- 
 noon I paid Frantz a visit in his room. 
 I treated him and myself to cigarettes, 
 and he treated me to a liqueur. The boy 
 was quite touched by my kindness ; it was 
 amusing to see how politely he suddenly
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 27 
 
 treated me. But when I left he said, 
 'Please give him my kind regards.' 
 
 I suppose he thought Erik was the 
 cause of my good spirits. No ; the reason 
 was much further from all reality. It 
 was the Suleima dream which still lived 
 within me. How childish and foolish it 
 was. But it was even more foolish that 
 mother's words when I woke should have 
 had their share in my happy mood. 'How 
 sweet you looked while you slept/ these 
 words sounded all day in my ears and 
 filled me with tingling pleasure. 'So you 
 really can look pretty,' I said to myself, 
 'and after all I am not always such an 
 ugly darling.' But what a pity it is that 
 my good moments should only come when 
 I am asleep. 'Miss Julie Magens had 
 last night a belle nuit!' That sounds 
 very pretty, but unfortunately neither I 
 nor any one else has the opportunity to 
 admire the violet that shows its beauty 
 only at night. 
 
 But so ridiculously vain had the moth-
 
 28 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 erly admiration made me, that instead of 
 writing my diary last night, I held a 
 grand review of myself in front of my 
 mirror. 
 
 My mirror is not a royal one, but only 
 a short swinging mirror in a walnut 
 frame, standing on a chest of drawers. 
 I put the mirror slantwise, so that I could 
 see more of my figure. I lit the two can- 
 dles and placed the lamp on the chest of 
 drawers. In this magical light Miss Julie 
 presented herself in all kinds of flattering 
 poses, and went through a series of inim- 
 ical gestures. In putting down the re- 
 sults of my review, I am trying to be as 
 impartial as possible. 
 
 Julie is tall and rather bony, yet, on the 
 other hand, she is well proportioned. She 
 is narrow across the shoulders and the 
 hips, but at the same time unusually slim 
 round her waist, so that she is far from 
 shapeless, if she would only hold herself 
 better than she usually does. When seri- 
 ous, her face is rather impossible, for her
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 29 
 
 nose is of such quaint construction that it 
 rather disturbs every serious expression. 
 Add to this that nature intended her 
 mouth to be slightly open. When there- 
 fore, in serious moods, the upper lip is 
 struggling to reach the lower one, it gives 
 the face an extremely gloomy expression, 
 naturally therefore Julie's face is greatly 
 improved by a smile. The upper lip 
 falls into its natural place, the large, even, 
 white teeth are seen, and even the nose 
 passes muster. But above all the brown 
 eyes are made to smile. They screw 
 themselves up behind a number of tiny 
 wrinkles, and from their hiding-place they 
 twinkle merrily at you. When Julie 
 stands like this with smiling face, the 
 dark hair falling over her forehead, 
 throwing a kiss to herself in the mirror 
 her hand is slim and beautiful she is al- 
 most a dear, and even a wee bit coquet- 
 tish. 
 
 The widow's daughter 'coquettish!' the 
 disagreeable Professor Magens' 'ugly
 
 30 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 kid' a dear no, my good girl, either your 
 mirror is lying, or you are an interested 
 critic. 
 
 But all the same, when Julie went to 
 bed after the mirrow review, she was still 
 in high spirits, and as a result she has just 
 written a long and kind letter to Erik. 
 
 She has nothing else to relate about to- 
 day. 
 
 9 th TO 11 th OF JAN. 
 
 SAND sand nothing but sand. Oh, 
 what's the use of writing a diary 
 about the days always and ever the 
 same. 
 
 12 th OF JAN. 
 
 MY neighbour is beginning to interest 
 me. On the surface everything in 
 his home seems to be so quiet and correct, 
 yet I think this mysterious cavalier is lead- 
 ing an adventurous and fantastic life. 
 One hardly ever sees him go out, but he
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 31 
 
 receives many friends, and ladies also 
 come to see him. One lady sometimes 
 comes in the morning, but he does not al- 
 ways receive her. Yesterday, for in- 
 stance, she left ten minutes after she had 
 entered the house. But I saw our neigh- 
 bour standing behind a curtain, peeping 
 out to see what had become of her. 
 
 Poor little beauty! Don't you think I 
 saw how sad and vexed you were, though 
 you tried to put on a 'don't care' expres- 
 sion and without turning walked down the 
 Old King's Road with very correct de- 
 meanour. Oh, you horrid man on the 
 other side of the street, how can you be so 
 cruel to a little love-sick child. 
 
 Then there is the other, the favourite I 
 have christened her. She comes in the 
 afternoon, and always in a most mysteri- 
 ous way. She drives up in a one-horse 
 coupe, which looks like a doctor's carriage. 
 She is heavily veiled and wrapped in a 
 big, fur cloak. Her tall and distin- 
 guished figure makes a charming sil-
 
 32 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 houette against the light of the street lamp. 
 I believe that my neighbour is very much 
 in love with her. I always know when 
 he is expecting her. He is at the window 
 every moment; he opens it, looks up and 
 down the road, closes it, then goes back 
 into the room to return soon after. 
 When at last he discovers the carriage, he 
 quickly lets down the blind. For a short 
 while his lonely shadow flits about, then 
 another appears a woman's shadow. 
 Then both shadows glide away, and I 
 fancy that my neighbour and his lady 
 have gone into the dining-room, and have 
 sat down at the prettily laid table, which 
 I have seen being prepared by an elderly 
 country-clad woman, who is my neigh- 
 bour's housekeeper. 
 
 An hour afterwards the drawing-room 
 is brightly lit. Through the laths of the 
 Venetian blinds I just get a glimpse of the 
 large chandelier with its wreath of pale 
 candles and also of an enormous yellow 
 lampshade. In one place a lath is broken,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 33 
 
 and through this peep-hole I can see the 
 corner of a picture on which the light falls 
 strongly, showing a woman's head and 
 naked arm. But my neighbour and his 
 guest I cannot see. They are most likely 
 sitting on the high-backed sofa, which is 
 partly hidden behind tall plants, and from 
 which one gets a charming vista of the 
 other rooms, which are also lit, the bed- 
 room with its green globe silhouetted like 
 a dim moon against the white of the fes- 
 tooned blinds. 
 
 On our side of the street it is dark, and 
 I sit in the arm-chair in the bay-window, 
 giving myself up to fancies. I am trying 
 to imagine myself over there at our neigh- 
 bour's in the lady's place. Who can she 
 be? Is it possible that she can be a nice 
 woman, a woman I might meet, a woman 
 belonging to good society, and who per- 
 haps, after she leaves our neighbour's, 
 will go back home to play the virtuous 
 daughter of respectable parents just like 
 me ? But if I were she, would it be possi-
 
 34 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ble for me to return home without any one 
 guessing that anything unusual had hap- 
 pened to me, and without feeling as 
 though I should sink into the earth with 
 shame? No, no, impossible. It cannot 
 be a lady who visits our neighbour. It is 
 a despicable creature, a woman of the low- 
 est kind. But in that case, why should 
 she be so afraid of being seen? Why 
 should she arrive so carefully veiled? A 
 woman of the demi-monde would not need 
 to hide herself. Besides I don't quite 
 know, but there is something unmistak- 
 ably refined and shrinking in her manner, 
 something so mysterious and sweetly- 
 criminal about her, when, after consider- 
 ing a moment, she quickly opens the street 
 door. She must be a lady. Perhaps 
 even a very distinguished lady. 
 
 And so my imagination runs off with 
 me. She is a distinguished lady visiting 
 her lover. Who is he? Why has he hid- 
 den himself away in this quiet suburban 
 road? At the last reception at Court,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 35 
 
 when many foreign princes gathered in 
 the king's palace, they met. He a foreign 
 prince, and she a Danish nobleman's lovely 
 daughter. The young prince became so 
 infatuated with the girl, that he could not 
 forget her, and while pretending to be 
 travelling in the Far East, he returned to 
 the North. Helped by his silent and 
 faithful servant, he rented this out-of-the- 
 way corner, and sent secretly this message 
 to his beloved, 'I am here and await you.' 
 They are together in there, where it is 
 cosy and full of warmth and perfume. 
 The fire crackles in the stove, there is wine 
 in the cut decanters and fruit in the crys- 
 tal bowls on the table. They are sitting 
 on the sofa, he puts his arm round her, 
 they lift their glasses up against the light 
 radiating from the numerous candles. 
 They look at the sparkling wine, and they 
 turn to one another smiling happily while 
 they clink glasses. Then he says, 'My 
 dear and lovely one, the hours are flying 
 and soon our happy meeting will be over,
 
 36 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 tell me do you love me as much as before?' 
 She answers with her arms round his neck 
 and looking deep into his eyes, 'My won- 
 derful prince, lay your head on my heart 
 and feel how it beats. It beats always 
 with a stronger and stronger love for you.' 
 Or she kneels in front of him in her 
 long, white silk dress; while he gently 
 strokes the loose, auburn hair, he says, 'I 
 have loved many women, but never have I 
 tasted such intoxicating wine as that which 
 I drink from your lips. Many women 
 have told me of their love, but never have 
 I heard sweeter music than when your 
 kisses whisper to me I love you.' She still 
 kneels looking up at him with eyes in which 
 happy tears tremble. When all lights in 
 the other houses are out and only the globe 
 burns in his room like a dim moon, he leads 
 his beloved to the window, pulls the cur- 
 tains back, and while looking out on the 
 quiet, white winter night, he points to the 
 window opposite and says, 'Look, over 
 there lives a poor little girl, day after day
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 37 
 
 she sits like a caged bird, longing, longing 
 without knowing for what. Feeling that 
 life contains more than to sit behind a 
 closed window, painting roses and violets 
 on china. Vaguely feeling that love is 
 the artist, who paints roses on the young 
 girls' cheeks and violets in their eyes. 
 Poor, pale little girl.' And she, the proud 
 and beautiful woman shivers and clings 
 to her lover, weeping softly with pity for 
 the unknown girl and with terror lest she 
 herself should loose her own happiness. 
 
 Thus I sit lost in dreams with tears in 
 my eyes because the life I lead seems so 
 empty and meaningless, until the noise of 
 a door opening and a sudden light startles 
 me from my fancies. It is father cross- 
 ing the room to go into the hall to see if 
 the evening paper has come. 
 
 He goes silently through the room with 
 a candle in his hand, and when he returns 
 he says, 'Don't you think it is time to light 
 the lamp?' 
 
 Then mother sits up on the sofa, where
 
 38 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 she has been lying half asleep or perhaps 
 been dreaming like I. I leave the bay- 
 window, fetch the matches and light the 
 hanging lamp. Without being in the 
 mood for talk, each absorbed in our own 
 thoughts, mother and I take our work 
 from the big basket, always filled with 
 stockings and linen which needs repair 
 for in our house things are mended ten 
 times before they are thrown away. 
 
 16 th or JAN. 
 
 HOW foolishly I behaved this morn- 
 ing. Mother and I went for our 
 usual walk. Outside the bookshop in 
 New Street I noticed a man in a fur-coat, 
 just as we passed him he turned round. I 
 only saw his eyes, they met mine with a 
 quiet, piercing glance. I knew at once it 
 was the actor from the other night, the 
 'Sheik' from Suleima. I grew quite 
 faint, my blood seemed to stand still, rush- 
 ing a moment after to my head and dyeing
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 39 
 
 my face scarlet. The whole thing only 
 lasted a second, for he disappeared almost 
 immediately. Fortunately mother did 
 not notice my absurd behaviour. I am a 
 fool! What in the world was the matter 
 with me? By chance a stranger gives me 
 a casual look in the street, and I am para- 
 lysed. I am furious with myself. I 
 should like to give myself a good beating, 
 and I am furious with him too. This con- 
 ceited actor imagines, of course, that he 
 has made an overwhelming impression on 
 me, made a new conquest and a victory 
 very easily won. 
 
 How curiously things happen in life. 
 I had not given this man a thought since 
 that romantic Suleima dream ; as a matter 
 of fact I had quite forgotten him, and then 
 this morning I meet him in the street, and 
 this afternoon I hear him discussed. 
 
 I went to a birthday party at my cousin 
 Emmy Lorentzen. Emmy, who is thirty- 
 seven years of age, and the widow of a 
 wine merchant, is one of the greatest chat-
 
 40 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 terboxes I know. Under a mask of lov- 
 ing sympathy and in the sweetest way she 
 says the most scandalous things about 
 everybody in the town, about the people 
 she knows and those she does not know. I 
 admit her chatter interests me : one feels a 
 little bit in the swim of things after a 'les- 
 son' at Emmy's. But afterwards I have 
 a curious sick feeling, when I think of her 
 slimy besmirching of everybody; I feel 
 dirty mentally and physically, and long 
 for a bath inside and out. 
 
 While I was playing with her two dear 
 little girls I heard Emmy who was chat- 
 tering to some like-minded friends men- 
 tion Alfred Morch's name. I won't deny 
 I grew curious, and that my thoughts 
 wandered away from the game. With 
 one ear I listened to the whispered confi- 
 dences of the gossips, who put their heads 
 together and looked very impressed and 
 indignantly delighted. 
 
 What I caught of the conversation was 
 the following : Alfred Morch had seduced
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 41 
 
 a young girl, who had since gone mad, and 
 whose brother had sworn to kill him. The 
 story was quite true, for my cousin had 
 heard it from a lady, whose charwoman 
 was the aunt of the servant of the young 
 girl's parents. But this was not all. Mr. 
 Morch had many other crimes on his con- 
 science. 'No woman can resist him,' said 
 Emmy with an expression of gloating in- 
 terest in her face. At this point of the 
 conversation I asked, 'What does it mean 
 that no woman can resist this Mr. Morch ? 
 What is this mysterious power he pos- 
 sesses?' 
 
 'Yes, my dear girl, you better take care,' 
 answered Emmy. 'I'll tell you what they 
 say about Alfred Morch. He hypnotises 
 the women he is interested in by looking 
 very intently at them with his shiny black 
 eyes. He also has a curious way of tak- 
 ing their hands ; they say it is like a warm 
 stream rushing through their veins the mo- 
 ment he touches them.' 
 
 Though I found Emmy's description
 
 42 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 of this naughty Mr. Morch extremely ri- 
 diculous, it was with a certain amount of 
 anxiety I thought of my meeting with 
 him in the morning. Of course, I showed 
 no concern, and asked in a careless voice, 
 'Who is he really, this terrible Don Juan? 
 Where does he come from? Surely as an 
 actor he is not very well known.' 
 
 Then I heard the following romantic 
 tale. It had been said that his parents 
 were middle-class people in a provincial 
 town. But that in reality his father was 
 a very distinguished man, and his mother, 
 who was now dead, had been governess in 
 the house of a foreign diplomat. But 
 this much was certain, that from the time 
 Morch came to Copenhagen as a young 
 student, he had had plenty of money and 
 had a great number of influential friends. 
 He had first studied for the Bar, but for 
 the last two years he had been on the stage. 
 Some thought he had great talent, but 
 most people could not stand him as an ac- 
 tor.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 43 
 
 'I thought him excellent in Suleima/ I 
 was stupid enough to remark. 
 
 'Good heavens, child, he has not half a 
 dozen words to say in Suleima' 
 
 'But perhaps he uses his eyes so much 
 the more,' added one of the other chatter- 
 boxes. 
 
 This made them all laugh, and I forced 
 myself to laugh too. I had a feeling 
 there was something for me to hide, and 
 altogether felt very dissatisfied with my- 
 self. 
 
 But Emmy patted me on the cheek with 
 her clammy hand, and said, 'Yes, you darl- 
 ing child, beware of those dangerous eyes.' 
 
 On the whole it was a horrid day. I 
 had a feeling I had been in bad company, 
 that I had been roughly handled and had 
 not even had pride enough to defend my- 
 self. I could cry with humiliation. But 
 I will now cleanse my thoughts by reading 
 before falling asleep. I will read E. P. 
 Jacobson's beautiful poem about King 
 Volmer and his love :
 
 44 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ' All my roses I have kissed to death, 
 While my thoughts flew forth to you.' 
 
 20 th OF JAN. 
 
 ERIK will be here in a week's time. 
 I had a letter from him this morn- 
 ing. It is certainly high time that he 
 came, for I am going about here allow- 
 ing my mind to get more and more in- 
 fluenced by morbid thoughts. 
 
 But this is now going to end. Erik 
 will be here bringing sanity and health. 
 We will have a nice confidential talk, and 
 I will tell him straight out that it is best 
 for us both to marry soon. It won't do 
 for me any longer to try to make up for 
 the meagre fare of realities by feeding on 
 the unsubstantial dreams of mother's and 
 my own fancies. 
 
 Yes, it will be good to get out of all this, 
 to be replanted in a strong and loving 
 earth, to feel one has something to live 
 for, to feel one has one's own cosy home,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 45 
 
 where one can breathe freely, and where 
 the air is not full of bitterness and gloom, 
 broken hopes, everyday 's petty worries. 
 
 Even not having daily to look at 
 mother's sad face will be a comfort. You 
 darling mother, I know it is horrid of me 
 to feel like this. Yet you would forgive 
 me, if you knew in what state of mind I 
 am, and how my young soul is tearing it- 
 self to pieces like a caged animal. I must 
 get free one way or another. It will end 
 in my doing something very foolish if my 
 hope in Erik fails. No, no, this must not 
 happen. Your name, Erik, is the talis- 
 man I use against all evil temptations. 
 Also against the' dark eyes, which now 
 haunt my dreams. The dark eyes which 
 I despise and laugh at, but which never 
 leave me alone. Just as I fancy I have 
 conquered them, they suddenly shine out at 
 me from nooks and corners, from the folds 
 in the curtain, from the darkness in mv 
 
 V 
 
 room where I lie awake at night. Their 
 radiance burns. Suddenly they are there,
 
 46 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 coming nearer and nearer. They are seri- 
 ous and commanding, they watch me with 
 a sure and quiet force. They say to me 
 'come.' They have been so near to me 
 that I have felt their glance scorch my 
 own eyes, and I have caught myself start- 
 ing up to follow. 
 
 But this is madness. I have again and 
 again said to myself: What have these 
 eyes to do with me? Why do they haunt 
 me? 
 
 I meet a man I don't know. He looks 
 at me and I behave like a silly little school- 
 girl. I listen to the idle chatter of some 
 foolish women. . . . Well, what then? 
 Surely that ought to finish the story, but 
 no, it only begins it. Though this is not 
 quite true. Those eyes have haunted me 
 since the evening I saw Suleima. Now I 
 understand it, it was the eyes which con- 
 quered Suleima. I don't remember at all 
 how he looked, I don't even remember the 
 sound of his voice. 
 
 Surely, Julie, you are well on the way to
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 47 
 
 madness, and it is high time that Erik re- 
 turned. I greet you, dear friend, I greet 
 your dear steadfast blue eyes. 
 
 23 rd OF JAN. 
 
 T I iHIS morning I went into the attic to 
 J. get some linen out of a chest. 
 When I was turning the things over I 
 came across a big black veil. I have never 
 seen one so closely woven , and it was made 
 in the shape of a hood. I put it on and 
 could hardly see through it, and when I 
 glanced at myself in the old mirror hang- 
 ing on the wall I looked exactly like a 
 hooded nun. 
 
 I wonder why mother got this veil and 
 what she used it for? 
 
 I meant to have asked her to-night, but 
 when it came to the point somehow I did 
 not do it.
 
 48 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 26 th OF JAN. 
 
 I SAT at the window after lunch. The 
 snow was falling gently in big, soft 
 flakes, just what I always call a real 
 Christmas snow like myriads and myri- 
 ads of white winter-birds slowly descend- 
 ing to earth. Along the deserted road 
 came a carriage with white hood and white 
 coachman, making two black lines in the 
 white snow. The carriage stopped out- 
 side our neighbour's house. It was the 
 * favourite's' coupe. She jumped out, and 
 had almost reached the door, when she sud- 
 denly turned round, threw back her veil 
 and called out an order to the coachman, 
 who had already started on his return 
 journey. I had only the merest glimpse 
 of her, but I shall never forget it. I can- 
 not forget the radiance of victorious hap- 
 piness which shone from her face and fig- 
 ure. The black fur coat stood open, and 
 she wore a large bunch of pale pink roses. 
 Her face itself was like a pink rose, peep- 
 ing out from its frame of black lace.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 49 
 
 With the one hand she gracefully lifted 
 her dress, with the other her glove was 
 pale yellow she held aside her veil. The 
 snow-birds fluttered down round her; she 
 stood there like spring itself in the snow, 
 so warm and young, so fair and fine. 
 
 Then the charming sight disappeared 
 and the street door closed after her. 
 
 But suddenly it struck me that it was 
 the first time I had seen her arrive in 
 broad daylight, and that for the last week 
 I had not seen the other young girl, who 
 usually visited our neighbour after lunch. 
 
 Was she ill, or had she gone away, or 
 was it all over? Was the door pitilessly 
 closed and was her rival sole favourite? 
 I looked out upon the ugly black lines 
 drawn by the carriage on the white snow, I 
 watched them slowly being filled with the 
 caressing, covering flakes until they 
 seemed only like faintly remaining scars.
 
 50 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 29 th OF JAN. 
 
 ERIK has come. He called for a mo- 
 ment last night, and to-day he has 
 been here to dinner. The dear boy! how 
 happy he seemed to be with us all again 
 and how little he is changed. Life in the 
 big towns has certainly not spoiled him or 
 made him think less of his old home. He 
 seems just as bright and boyish, just as 
 good-looking and sane, but also just as 
 careless about his personal appearance. 
 The only diif erence I could discover was 
 that his reddish-brown beard is pointed 
 after the French fashion, that his hair is 
 so closely cropped it looks like a field of 
 stubble, and that his moustache had grown 
 and was waxed at the end. But his coat 
 hangs crookedly as usual, with the left 
 hand pocket bulging from his old habit 
 of thrusting his hand into it, and his col- 
 lar and tie were as schoolboy-looking as 
 ever, a turn-down collar and tiny, ready- 
 made black tie.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 51 
 
 He certainly needs feminine supervi- 
 sion. If Heaven has chosen me for this 
 duty I swear I shall soon make him look 
 different. He is good material and could 
 soon be made quite smart-looking. I 
 should like to turn him out a good speci- 
 men of modern progress smart, yet with 
 a certain quiet elegance. He should al- 
 ways wear a well cut tail-coat with expect- 
 ant buttonhole, dark, finely-striped trou- 
 sers, shining top hat, brown English 
 gloves, and high, stand-up collar. 
 
 Yes, my dear boy, if it rests with me, 
 you shall soon be made beautiful. Just 
 wait! There cannot be two opinions that 
 our dinner to-day was quite gay. Even 
 his majesty, cross papa, was graciously 
 pleased to be in decent humour. He had 
 quite an attack of tenderness for me this 
 showed itself by his pinching my cheek 
 with two long fingers and with a glimmer 
 of a smile behind the glasses, when he 
 said, 'Well, so the professor's daughter
 
 52 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 need no longer sit alone in the drawing- 
 room, humming the song she had learnt 
 by heart.' 
 
 The dinner was very good, and we had 
 lots of red Italian wine, a relic of father's 
 gay Roman nights. Erik was wonderful. 
 He talked and talked as if it was really 
 a happy party. Father laughed and gur- 
 gled till it sounded as if water was run- 
 ning through a stopped-up pipe, when 
 Erik told him of the exhibition of sym- 
 bolistic painting in Vienna. After all 
 Erik is more acute than I thought. Did 
 he not sit there and curry favour with my 
 academical father by running down the 
 young art, which, after all, is very sacred 
 to him. Well, I suppose all is fair in love 
 and war. 
 
 With our coffee, we drank real old 
 Benedictine which in our house is a sign 
 that good fellowship has reached its 
 height. 
 
 A little later, I found myself sitting 
 alone with Erik on the sofa in the draw- 

 
 JULIE'S DIARY 53 
 
 ing-room. I thought to myself, now it's 
 coming. I don't know if I was pleased 
 or annoyed; I only know I found it rather 
 tactless and ridiculous of the others to 
 have arranged the situation like this. 
 Erik sat for some moments pulling away 
 at his cigar, until the fire glared from un- 
 der the white ash. I could see he felt 
 nervous. At last he said, 'I am so happy 
 to see you again, Julie/ 
 
 'It makes me happy too to see you.' 
 
 'I longed for you so much amongst all 
 those strange people.' 
 
 'But you wrote very seldom, and such 
 short letters too.' 
 
 'You know how difficult it is for me to 
 express myself in letters.' 
 
 'Didn't you make any friends at all in 
 Vienna?' 
 
 'Yes. I made one. A Dane I met in 
 a boarding-house where I stayed. He 
 and I became very good friends. I talked 
 to him very often and a great deal about 
 you.'
 
 54 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 'About me, Erik?' 
 
 'Yes; I told him I had a little foster- 
 sister, the daughter of the man in whose 
 house I had spent my student days, a 
 young girl who had always been so dear 
 and good to me ' 
 
 'For whom you did a thousand foolish 
 things, and whom you often saved from 
 the dark room and her father's anger by 
 taking her sins on your own shoulders. 
 But where is your friend now, is he still 
 in Vienna?' 
 
 'No, he left long before I did; he had 
 to be back at the beginning of the season/ 
 
 'At the beginning of the season?' 
 
 'Yes, he is an actor.' 
 
 'And his name?' 
 
 'Alfred Morch. Have you never seen 
 him?' 
 
 I do believe my heart shrieked within 
 me, but I controlled myself, and said in a 
 careless, almost supercilious way, 'Alfred 
 Morch, yes, I have seen him once. But 
 I don't think he has much talent, he only
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 55 
 
 plays tiny parts. He is certainly not fa- 
 mous, but he makes up for it by being 
 notorious.' 
 
 Erik laughed, slightly irritated. 'Dear 
 me,' he said, 'do you really listen to such 
 gossip? I thought you were far to sen- 
 sible for that. But what do you 
 know?' 
 
 *I know that this dear friend of yours 
 has seduced a young girl, and afterwards 
 deserted her in the most callous way.' 
 
 For a moment Erik sat silent, then he 
 said : 'I can hardly believe it. It doesn't 
 sound a bit like Morch. He is one of the 
 finest men I know. I am sure he would 
 never promise more than he could fulfil. 
 Another thing is that he may have had 
 several love-affairs. He is and quite 
 rightly a great favourite with women, 
 and I know, that he has often had letters 
 asking him for rendezvous.' 
 
 'How extremely proud he must be of 
 that, since he has told you about it.' 
 
 'No, but it amuses him, surely that is
 
 56 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 quite natural, and he does not answer 
 these flattering invitations/ 
 
 'But like a true gentleman, he shows the 
 letters to his friends.' 
 
 'Well, you need not get so excited about 
 that, the letters are anonymous.' 
 
 I felt so unstrung, I could almost have 
 cried why, I really don't know. It 
 seemed to me revolting, yes, revoltingly 
 stupid, that Erik should sit there and de- 
 fend this actor. I had hoped, on the con- 
 trary, that his presence would have helped 
 me to force the other man out of my 
 thoughts. I fancied I had almost f orgot- 
 ton him, and then Erik comes and thrusts 
 him on me again. Of course it was im- 
 possible for Erik to know and yet, he 
 was so irritating, as he sat there defending 
 his friend with the dark eyes. 
 
 And you, dear solicitous parents, how 
 we cheated you. You had arranged 
 everything so beautifully for your daugh- 
 ter, a good dinner, good wine, old memo- 
 ries in the firelight, and then when mama
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 57 
 
 came in with the lamp followed by the 
 peeping and curious papa, they found the 
 couple sitting solemnly in each corner of 
 the sofa. 
 
 Surely it was a case both for laughter 
 and for tears. 
 
 5 th OF FEB. 
 
 EVERY time I meet Erik I feel that 
 the proposal is burning on his 
 tongue, and as soon as I feel that it is 
 going to blaze out, I am there at once 
 with the hose to extinguish the fire. 
 
 What dear patient things such men as 
 Erik are. I cannot understand why he 
 does not bang his fist on the table and say, 
 'Now, that will do, my good girl, no more 
 monkey-tricks for me. Will you marry 
 me or will you not?' I think it would be 
 a very good thing if he would just take 
 me by the shoulder and make me behave. 
 I should like to see him really angry. I 
 believe I could love him if he would only
 
 58 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 once make me feel small and frightened 
 between his strong hands. But instead of 
 that he just sits and looks miserable, fear- 
 ing that I shall put on that weary and 
 bored face which I assume to prevent his 
 proposing. 
 
 Why am I like this? Is it only sheer 
 deviltry, conceit, and joy in giving pain? 
 No, no, it is not that. But I don't know 
 what it is. I wonder if it will be right for 
 him and me to marry. Good heavens, 
 when I treat him as I do now, what will it 
 be like when we are married, and I have 
 him all day long from morning to even- 
 ing and from evening to morning? I 
 do believe, I have always had the same 
 feelings toward Erik, even from the time 
 I was a little kid of ten, and he a big stu- 
 dent of seventeen. I was very fond of 
 him, and was always wanting to be with 
 him. But in spite of the difference in 
 our age, I always tyrannized over him. I 
 understood quite well that I was the 
 stronger, and I enjoyed my power with a
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 59 
 
 mixture of pleasure and unconscious 
 scorn. I remember especially one day I 
 had worried him more than usual. He 
 was very busy, and asked me to leave him 
 in peace. But scarcely had I run out of 
 the room before I was back again. I 
 tickled his nose with a straw, I snatched 
 his pencil from him, I pulled and spoiled 
 his drawing, and was altogether as abom- 
 inable as a spoiled and naughty child can 
 be. At last Erik really grew angry. He 
 seized me by the shoulder, and lifted his 
 arm. . . . When I looked up at him 
 tauntingly and said, 'Yes, strike me if 
 you dare/ 
 
 His arm fell, his eyes filled with tears, 
 and he said, 'Dear little Julie, don't be 
 angry with me. I am a horrid brute.' 
 
 Erik, Erik, you irritatingly foolish 
 man, why did you not give me the whack- 
 ing I so thoroughly deserved. Many 
 things might have been different then. 
 
 What's the good of mother taking me 
 to task and telling me that I am a heart-
 
 60 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 less coquette and ought to consider my- 
 self a favoured mortal for having won 
 your most excellent heart. 
 
 That is all very well ; but why don't you 
 win my heart. Why don't you take it 
 with the strong hand of the conquerer, 
 and for once in a while make me a tiny 
 bit afraid. Don't always crouch always 
 so humbly at my feet with that irritating 
 'just as you please, darling,' expression 
 in your face. 
 
 10 th OF FEB. 
 
 T^ESTERDAY Erik's uncle Mr. 
 X Glerup gave a ball. I had looked 
 forward to it in the most childish way. It 
 was my first ball this winter, and would 
 perhaps be my only one. After all it 
 turned out to be utter dullness and stu- 
 pidity. 
 
 I was furious with Erik. How could 
 he be so foolish and tactless.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 61 
 
 Now that it is over, I see it all too well. 
 The ball was of course meant to celebrate 
 mine and Erik's engagement. To the 
 guests, I dare say, it was a disappointment 
 that they did not get the announcement 
 as an extra cracker at dessert, and for 
 Erik it was more than embarrassing. 
 Then he thought he could save the situa- 
 tion by treating me in a way which made 
 everybody think that we were engaged, 
 only that we preferred to keep it secret 
 at present. 
 
 I have never seen Erik quite like this 
 before. He behaved as though he were 
 a shopwalker. He hovered round, paying 
 me silly compliments. Yes, he even kissed 
 my hand during the cotillon. He ought 
 to be grateful I kept my temper and did 
 not box his ears. But when at last in the 
 hall he was helping me with my snow- 
 boots, and in the presence of several 
 guests complimented me on my graceful 
 little foot, the foot gave him very grace- 
 fully, but very forcefully, a push, so that
 
 62 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 he overbalanced himself, stopping any 
 further remarks of this kind. 
 
 And the others, Erik's family as well 
 as his friends, came with frequent illu- 
 sions and amiable impertinences. When 
 a partner invited me to dance, it was done 
 with many little knowing smirks and 
 speeches such as: 'If Miss Magens can 
 possibly waste a dance on me,' or, 'if it is 
 allowed,' and Erik, who scarcely left my 
 side all the evening, bowed with an affa- 
 ble smile as though he was giving the per- 
 mission. 
 
 When the ball was over, Erik insisted 
 on seeing me in the cab. I whispered to 
 him, 'Please don't come,' and he under- 
 stood that I meant it seriously. I cried 
 all the way home as if I had been 
 whipped, and when I got into my room 
 I tore off my pretty frock as if it was a 
 rag. 
 
 To think how pretty I looked, and how 
 happy I was when I started off, and 
 mother herself tucked me into the cab. I
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 63 
 
 wore a pale blue tulle skirt and long 
 pointed bodice of silk with large puffs 
 of tulle on the shoulders. I love to look 
 at myself in a low-necked bodice, and I 
 liked the tiny niching of lace between the 
 soft skin and the coloured silk. When I 
 said good-bye to father, I noticed that 
 even he was satisfied with me. He nodded 
 approvingly and said, 'blue crocus.' To- 
 day I am so nervous and cross that no 
 body has been able to speak to me. I 
 would not go out with mother, and have 
 been sitting all day long sulking in the 
 bay-window. It rained and was misera- 
 ble out of doors grey, heavy, and ter- 
 ribly depressing, and indoors everything 
 seemed cold and ugly. The rooms looked 
 so worn and faded, so poor and joyless, 
 the black horsehair chairs, the old red 
 table-cloth and the hideous bronze lamp 
 hanging by its thin brass chains. I my- 
 self red-eyed and weary, with stiff face 
 and feverish hands, so dejected and un- 
 tidy. Blue crocus indeed! an unattrac-
 
 64 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 tive withered flower ready to be thrown 
 away. 
 
 I looked up and my eyes fell on our 
 neighbour's window. There he stood in 
 evening dress with white buttonhole. He 
 stood looking over at me with a faint 
 smile on his lips. 
 
 I don't know what came over me. But 
 suddenly I left my place at the window, 
 went into my room, took out pen and 
 paper and wrote in a disguised hand: 
 'Mr. Alfred Morch: a young girl wishes 
 to ask you a question. She will look out 
 for you on Saturday the 13th, at seven 
 o'clock in the evening, outside the North- 
 ern Railway Station/ I sealed the letter, 
 addressed it to the theatre, put on my 
 coat and hat, and took it to a letterbox. 
 
 To explain why I did it is quite impos- 
 sible. I did not reason at all, until it was 
 all over and I stood once more in my own 
 room. Then I laughed quite hysterically 
 and would hardly believe it was not a 
 dream. No indeed, I had done something
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 65 
 
 most unconventional, I had written to an 
 unknown man, an actor and a well-known 
 Don Juan into the bargain, asking for a 
 rendezvous. Oh yes, yes, I knew every- 
 thing that could be said, that it was stark, 
 staring madness, and I am fit for a luna- 
 tic asylum. Indeed, I should soon be 
 there, if my dear parents knew what I 
 had done. 
 
 Well, I don't care. After all it is 
 rather fun to have done something really 
 terrible, especially when, as in this case, 
 it won't have any consequences. 
 
 12 th or FEB. 
 
 IT is to-morrow that I ought to meet 
 Mr. Morch outside the Northern 
 Railway Station. But to do myself jus- 
 tice I must add, that I have not for a mo- 
 ment dreamed of going to this rendezvous. 
 Of course he won't be there either. 
 Erik said he never took any notice of the 
 anonymous letters he got.
 
 66 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 But suppose he went after all. It 
 would be awfully amusing to see him trot 
 up and down at the meeting-place. The 
 conceited idiot with his horrid black eyes. 
 I can see him quite clearly with the fur 
 coat up to his ears and the stock under his 
 arm. 
 
 How I should like him to go, and to 
 watch him without being seen. 
 
 I think I will invite Erik out for a walk 
 to-morrow afternoon. Then, should Mr. 
 Morch be there, I am sure I shall never 
 be able to resist the temptation of telling 
 Erik that he is waiting for me. 
 
 13 th OF FEB. 
 
 4 A LL good little pictures turn round 
 Ji\. to the wall/ and you, my virtuous 
 pen, make a blot over it all 1 
 
 I have done something terrible. I have 
 sunk as deep as it is possible for a decent 
 girl to sink, and the sadness of it all is 
 that it has made me quite radiant.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 67 
 
 I start herewith my sinful report. To 
 begin at the beginning, when I woke this 
 morning the sun shone brightly into my 
 room. I jumped out of bed and took my 
 cold tub. My heart was so glad, my mind 
 so bright, as though I was preparing my- 
 self for a feast. I remember I said to 
 myself while I dressed, 'To-night at seven 
 o'clock at the Northern Railway Station 
 a fairy-tale will commence, and the name 
 of the fairy princess is Julie. Far away 
 in a distant castle, in a big wondrous 
 wood, Julie has heard of a horribly con- 
 ceited man who every day boasts of hav- 
 ing conquered the hearts of innocent little 
 girls. On hearing this Julie gets ex- 
 tremely angry on behalf of her sex. She 
 swears a solemn oath, that she will punish 
 the wicked seducer and humble him in the 
 dust. Helped by her clever servant, Julie 
 sends her enemy this message: that a vir- 
 tuous and beautiful maiden has become so 
 enamoured of his lustrous black eyes, that 
 she will await him on Saturday outside the
 
 68 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 Northern Railway Station. The con- 
 ceited fool arrives at the given time, sure 
 of an easy prey. He sees a closely-veiled 
 princess in her mother's chest Julie has 
 found an impenetrable veil woven by good 
 fairies when he approaches her, the 
 princess breaks into mocking silvery 
 laughter and disappears. Afterwards 
 well, afterwards the fairy tale ended, 
 what happened further I could not im- 
 agine. 
 
 But I was quite clear on one point. I 
 was not going to the rendezvous. Un- 
 known and unrecognized I would go and 
 enjoy Mr. Morch's curiosity and listen to 
 his ensnaring words, to disappear with the 
 mocking princess's laughter. 
 
 After dinner I said to mother that I 
 wanted to call on Emmy. She looked a 
 little surprised but was really rather 
 pleased, and I started soon after. It was 
 half -past five in the afternoon. Earlier 
 in the day I had fetched the fairy-tale veil 
 from the attic, and I took it with me in
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 69 
 
 my pocket. I went in the omnibus to 
 Tivoli, walked then to the Boulevard 
 where Emmy lives, paid her a short visit 
 to prove I had been there wrapped my- 
 self in the veil on the staircase and has- 
 tened with beating heart to the rendez- 
 vous. 
 
 From a little distance I saw that it was 
 five minutes past seven by the station 
 clock. I was pleased that I was not too 
 early. I glanced in all directions, he had 
 not come. I only saw a solitary cab wait- 
 ing in the lonely white square outside the 
 station. Not a soul, except the driver, to 
 be seen. I felt as if a bucket of cold 
 water had been thrown over my fairy tale. 
 Here stood the proud princess a perfect 
 laughing-stock. She had quite forgotten 
 to reckon with the possibility that nothing 
 would happen through the non-appear- 
 ance of the conceited young man. 
 
 I had already started on my way back 
 when my heart almost stopped beating 
 a tall figure came from the other side of
 
 70 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 the cab. A tall, fur-coated figure. It 
 was he. In a moment he was at my side. 
 I did not look at him, I only saw his 
 shadow in front of me, and I heard his 
 voice saying, 'Lady, the cab is waiting.' 
 
 This experienced impertinence gave me 
 back my self-confidence. 'You are mis- 
 taken, I do not need a cab.' God bless 
 you, darling mother, for your veil, which 
 allowed me to observe him while he could 
 see nothing but my black helmet. With 
 some uncertainty in his glance, he tried in 
 vain to pierce through my mask. Then 
 he said, feeling his way, 'Is it worth while 
 sending the cab away at once? I mean 
 one is always more sheltered.' I said 
 quickly, 'Please, send it away,' and I re- 
 joiced in my cold-bloodedness. He bowed 
 slightly to me, went back to the cab, paid 
 the driver and gave him a message, and 
 the cab went quickly away in the direction 
 of the Boulevard. 
 
 We were alone. I said, 'Let us walk 
 on,' and I went towards the Klampenborg
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 71 
 
 Station, he following at my side. After 
 a short pause he said, 'Well?' 
 
 'Well,' I repeated. 
 
 'Well, dear lady, what was it you 
 wanted to ask me?' 
 
 Unfortunately I had quite forgotten to 
 have a question ready, and to gain time I 
 said, 'It is a wager between a man and my- 
 self. He has bet me six bottles of French 
 perfume.* 
 
 'And it is I who have to decide the 
 wager?' 
 
 'Yes, if you will be so kind. It means 
 a great deal to me.' 
 
 'Six bottles of French perfume. Well, 
 let me hear.' 
 
 'I should like very much to know 
 please do tell me is Morch your real 
 name or your theatrical name?' 
 
 He did not answer at once. Just then 
 we were passing a street lamp, and in the 
 light he tried to see my face through the 
 veil. At last he said in a cold and sar- 
 castic voice, 'And it is merely to ask me my
 
 72 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 name that you have arranged this meet- 
 ing.' 
 
 It was evident he felt quite angry, 
 which amused me. I was shaking inside 
 with laughter, but said seriously, 'Yes, 
 Mr. Morch, if you would be so kind as to 
 do me this service, I won't keep you a 
 moment longer. Probably some one is 
 waiting for you.' 
 
 I glanced at him. He looked rather 
 calm, but his voice trembled when he an- 
 swered, 'You are evidently very amusing 
 or, forgive me, very foolish.' 
 
 I, in an angelic voice, 'How unkindly 
 you speak to me. Have I offended you ?' 
 
 He, with dignified coldness, 'Offended 
 me, no; but to tell you the truth, it seems 
 to me rather ridiculous to drag me out on 
 a cold winter evening to this remote place, 
 simply to ask me what my name is.' 
 
 I quietly and modestly, 'I never thought 
 for a moment you would come, for I have 
 been told that you get so many anony- 
 mous letters.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 73 
 
 He, a little softened, 'I came only be- 
 cause your handwriting interested me. 
 Though disguised, it was so ladylike, so 
 dainty and original/ 
 
 'You flatter me, Mr. Morch, but really 
 there is nothing in the least interesting 
 about me, not even the fact that I am in 
 love with you. Perhaps you thought I 
 was?' 
 
 He looked as if he wanted to bite my 
 head off, but did not answer. We had 
 reached the park, and at the corner of the 
 Boulevard I stopped. 
 
 'I must go home now, Mr. Morch. I 
 wonder if you would be kind enough to 
 answer my question.' 
 
 'Only on one condition.' 
 
 * And what is that?' 
 
 'That you show me your face and tell 
 me your name.' 
 
 'But why? What pleasure can that 
 possibly be to you ?' 
 
 'Do you really think my request so un-
 
 74 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 reasonable. Allow me?' and he stretched 
 out his hand to lift my veil. 
 
 'No, no, you must not do that,' and I 
 hurried along the path. He followed me. 
 Neither of us spoke. At last, when we 
 were again walking quickly side by side, 
 I said, 'How lovely the park is with all 
 the snow-powdered trees. It looks like a 
 fairy-tale garden.' 
 
 'Oh, yes.' 
 
 Snow-powder, fairy-tale garden, and 
 all other poetical things had evidently not 
 the slightest interest for him, and I 
 thought: the situation is getting impos- 
 sible, he is just as stupid and irritating as 
 Erik. 
 
 Then suddenly he stopped and said, 
 'Well, good-bye, and many thanks for to- 
 night.' 
 
 'And after all, you won't fulfil my 
 wish?' 
 
 He planted himself straight in front of 
 me and looked at me looked at me for a 
 long time, I thought, and with curiously
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 75 
 
 cold eyes, which made me afraid, yet drew 
 me to him. Then he said quietly and po- 
 litely, but with a lovely ice-cold distinc- 
 tion in his tone, 'My name is what I am 
 called. I trust that is your bet, and that 
 you therefore will win your wager.' 
 
 He lifted his hat to me, and was already 
 going away. When I don't know why 
 I would not, could not, lose him in this 
 fashion. I tore the veil from my face 
 and called, 'Mr. Morch,' and when he 
 turned I stood there smiling with out- 
 stretched hand, saying, 'Don't be angry 
 with me any longer, let us part good 
 friends.' 
 
 I have never seen any human creature 
 change so completely. It was as if his 
 face was suddenly in the sunlight, his eyes 
 shone gay and bright, his voice became 
 soft and cooing. We talked together like 
 two comrades, who had known one an- 
 other for a long time. He told me he 
 knew my face quite well, only he could not 
 remember where he had seen it.
 
 76 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 He begged me again to tell him my 
 name. 'No,' I said, 'I cannot tell you 
 that to-day.' 
 
 'Then another day, for perhaps you will 
 meet me another day.' 
 
 I did not know whether I wanted to say 
 yes or no, but I said, 'Perhaps'; and I 
 asked him just afterwards, 'Do tell me, 
 where did you think of taking me in that 
 cab?' 
 
 'To a restaurant or to my rooms, just 
 as you liked. To a place where we could 
 sit in peace together and drink a glass of 
 champagne.' 
 
 'Then you really imagined that I was a 
 lady of that sort?' 
 
 'What sort? I assure you all sorts of 
 ladies like drinking champagne.' 
 
 'Yes, but not with you.' 
 
 'Do you really mean that? Seriously, 
 do you think it would be so terrible if we 
 two spent an amusing evening together?' 
 
 'No, perhaps not, if you would behave 
 just as nicely as you are doing now.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 77 
 
 'I will behave just as you wish, you may 
 be sure of that. Will you come then and 
 dine with me on Thursday? I am free 
 that evening/ 
 
 In short, it ended with my almost prom- 
 ising to meet him on Thursday at seven 
 o'clock in the King's Square. He talked 
 me into such a trusting state of mind, that 
 it all seemed the most natural thing in the 
 world. But how it will look to me in the 
 morning, how I shall square my con- 
 science, and how I shall manage to get 
 away from home I don't know. 
 
 Well, sufficient unto the day. In the 
 worst, or rather the best, case, I can stay 
 away. 
 
 Then on Thursday evening Mr. Morch 
 can wait at the meeting-place and look at 
 the stars. Besides, what pleasure could it 
 really be for him to meet me. 
 
 He said I was lovely ! What a fib !
 
 78 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 14 th OF FEB. 
 
 WHAT happened yesterday seems 
 like a dream. But my diary 
 proves the dream to be a reality. What 
 I have done seems to me so fantastically 
 meaningless, and yet I think it is the only 
 thing in my life worth writing about. 
 But again and again, I say to myself, 
 'You silly little fool, you ridiculous hero- 
 ine, who has behaved just as unheroically 
 as thousands of other little girls. 
 
 Yes, if I loved him and he loved me. 
 But it is nothing but a mood and a fancy 
 on my side, and on his a moment's sensa- 
 tion, a piquant chance which suddenly 
 comes his way, and on which he graciously 
 sacrifices some hours of his time. 
 
 To begin with, I hated him. He had 
 suddenly begun to play a part in my life, 
 he a stranger, a man to whom I really 
 meant nothing had suddenly become 
 master of my thoughts and dreams. His
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 79 
 
 eyes commanded me, and I wished to free 
 myself from them and from him. 
 
 Yes, that was how it happened. I sim- 
 ply had to meet him at close quarters, to 
 battle with him, as one does with a real 
 human being. I had to get the dream- 
 being, the Sheik from Suleima, trans- 
 formed into the actor Mr. Morch. 
 
 This is the explanation, the excuse for 
 my asking him to meet me. 
 
 I wanted to free myself from him, and 
 I ended in promising to meet him again. 
 
 I wished to feel myself his strong oppo- 
 nent, which I was to begin with. I en- 
 joyed feeling his nervousness, his stupid 
 sulkiness, and his curiosity. I played with 
 him, I teased him, I tortured him! 
 
 But just as I fancied myself victorious, 
 he conquered me. I can still see him 
 standing in front of me, bidding me good- 
 bye in polite, sarcastic words. I felt his 
 glance like a whip across my face, and 
 when he turned to go I suddenly grew ter-
 
 80 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 rifled of losing him. I called him back, I 
 felt it was weakness, yet it made me 
 happy. 
 
 This stranger! for he is a stranger to 
 me, though I have never felt such good 
 friends with anyone before. It was ut- 
 terly impossible to feel reserved and su- 
 perior with him. His words and his voice 
 seem to draw me towards him in such a 
 natural yet respectful way. There was 
 something exquisitely musical in the way 
 in which he tuned his attitude to mine. 
 The only times I have felt anything like 
 it before have been when dancing with a 
 partner who firmly and fearlessly led me 
 into the rhythm of the music. When I 
 close my eyes I can still hear his voice. 
 Yes, indeed, there is rhythm in that voice, 
 and I feel as though I was dancing a 
 languid, softly gliding dance. 
 
 I hear his parting words as he took both 
 my hands, looking smilingly into my eyes, 
 saying, 'Good-bye, you very charming tin-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 81 
 
 known girl, whom I am so very happy to 
 have met.' 
 
 It is curious that eyes can change so 
 much. In the future his eyes will never 
 frighten me. 
 
 Neither will I be frightened of meeting 
 him again. On the contrary, it will make 
 me happy and amuse me. If it was only 
 not so absurdly reckless. 
 
 But after all, is it so foolish to be reck- 
 less? Who will thank me for never doing 
 anything but what is dull and proper. 
 Why should one be so frightened of steal- 
 ing a lovely flower from a garden along 
 the dusty road one has to walk. I believe I 
 would joyfully climb the fence in spite of 
 a torn gown, if it were not for mother's 
 anxious glances. Your sad eyes, mother 
 dear, frighten me. Should you discover 
 anything, you would not be able to under- 
 stand. You would think me a lost soul. 
 And yet, the veil ! How did that become 
 your property? When did you have any 
 use for that in your life?
 
 82 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 This veil, which whispers of secret wan- 
 derings and to which the scent of forbid- 
 den flowers seems to cling. 
 
 15 th OF FEB. 
 
 ERIK was here to-day. We talked 
 of nothing but Morch. Erik asked 
 if I would not like to meet him. I an- 
 swered, 'No.' I made up a story about a 
 woman who knows him, and who had told 
 me he was a very dull person. 
 
 Of course Erik at once began to sing 
 the praises of his friend, treating this 
 woman's opinion with disdain, not allow- 
 ing her a farthing's worth of brains. Of 
 course, she was a goose herself, on whom 
 Morch could not be supposed to waste his 
 wit. 
 
 Yet I defended my client's case clev- 
 erly. I invented lots of new accusations 
 and faults, which I enjoyed hearing Erik 
 oppose. 
 
 Poor Erik, if he only knew!
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 83 
 
 When mother and I said good-night to 
 each other, we had a big scene of tears and 
 misery. I wept just because she worried 
 me again about Erik. Then she wept be- 
 cause I said she was only thinking of get- 
 ting me out of the house, and did not care 
 at all whether I should be happy or un- 
 happy. At last we both wept in mutual 
 recognition of life's sadness and in mu- 
 tual repentence over all the cruel things 
 we had said to each other. This home ex- 
 cels in rain-storms. I almost think it 
 must be worse here than in Bergen. 
 
 16 th OF FEB. 
 
 IN case I keep that rendezvous to-mor- 
 row, I had better look out in good 
 time for a 'screen.' For this purpose I 
 have thought of Christiane, the only creat- 
 ure in this world in whom I can fully rely. 
 I have never had any intimate friends. 
 For though Christiane is called my friend, 
 my slave would be more the word. She is
 
 84 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 the daughter of a common but well-situ- 
 ated man ; she went to school with me, but 
 always felt herself to be of common clay. 
 In a moment of magnanimity I be- 
 friended her and being feared for my 
 sharp tongue, nobody dared to oif end my 
 protegee. 
 
 Christiane has ever since worshipped 
 me with faithful constancy. But it would 
 be far from the truth to say I have 
 spoiled her. To no human being can I be 
 so horrid; she irritates me with her cring- 
 ing manners and frightened looks, the 
 dog-like respect she, the tradesman's 
 daughter, feels for me, the poor profes- 
 sor's daughter, rouses my scorn. On the 
 other hand I cannot very well do without 
 her. I like to be master over a human 
 soul, and without a murmur she allows me 
 to pour all my bad humour over her head, 
 while she, radiant and happy, enjoys my 
 sunny moods. 
 
 My faithful Christiane is like a blond 
 pumpkin. Her head is round like a ball,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 85 
 
 her hair thin, yellowish and lustreless, she 
 has no eyebrows, a bit of a nose, and eyes 
 like button-holes. In figure she is a 
 lump. 
 
 Yet she is not exactly what one can 
 call ugly. She is only an absolute non- 
 entity. She lacks all that makes an indi- 
 vidual amongst the common herd of hu- 
 manity. But as she is, she is happy. She 
 has no ambition, no wishes on her own ac- 
 count, her hopes and wishes are all for and 
 with me. 
 
 During the last year she has thought of 
 nothing but Erik. Every day she sits 
 thinking that now he is going to propose, 
 and is quite nervous, when she fancies the 
 great moment has come. Yet when to- 
 morrow I call and tell her that I am going 
 to meet another man, and that she must 
 help me she will certainly look a little be- 
 wildered for a moment, but she will nei- 
 ther dream of reasoning with me nor of 
 interfering with my plans. She will 
 quietly try to grasp that it is not any
 
 86 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 longer Erik and an engagement which is 
 the order of the day, but recklessness and 
 rendezvous, and when the hour for the 
 meeting strikes, she will sit at home with 
 a heart beating like my own, and she will, 
 like the horrid glutton she is enjoy all 
 my dainty food and champagne in her 
 thoughts. 
 
 17 th OF FEB. 
 
 I AM most likely going to the rendez- 
 vous to-morrow. When I have had 
 that experience I will settle down. Again 
 I will become a virtuous lady, and before 
 I accept Erik's proposal I will, like Queen 
 Dagmar in the old ballad, confess my ter- 
 rible crime. 
 
 I called on Christiane this morning. 
 She became quite excited at the idea that 
 we were going to a rendezvous. I in- 
 structed her in her part. To-morrow she 
 will come and ask me to dinner, and she
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 87 
 
 will also promise mother, that I shall be 
 seen safely home afterwards. 
 
 There is no social intercourse between 
 Christiane's parents and mine they 
 hardly know each other by sight and 
 there is, therefore, no possibility of being 
 discovered. 
 
 Christiane thought it all extremely ro- 
 mantic and fascinating. I had really, in 
 the end, to remind her that it was not at 
 all becoming to a young girl to show so 
 much eagerness. 
 
 18 th OF FEB. 
 
 LAST night as the bell of St. Nicho- 
 las's struck seven o'clock, a tall, 
 veiled lady came round the corner of Lit- 
 tle King's Street out into King's Square. 
 A tall man with a fur collar turned up to 
 his ears steered straight towards her. A 
 cab followed the man. The driver opened 
 the door. The mysterious couple disap-
 
 88 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 peared in the carriage, which quickly 
 drove off. 
 
 A few moments later, a cab stopped in- 
 side a dark gateway. The driver pressed 
 an electric button near a door. The door 
 opened at once, and in the white electric 
 light a most superior-looking waiter stood 
 bowing. He opened the carriage door ; a 
 man in a fur coat assisted a heavily-veiled 
 lady to descend. The superior-looking 
 person showed the way up a staircase say- 
 ing, 'This way, if you please. The red 
 room is reserved.' 
 
 This was the promising and rather ro- 
 mantic beginning of an evening which, on 
 the whole, was a disappointment. 
 
 I am almost ashamed to confess it, but 
 I was not far from being bored. The 
 fete lasted three hours. We ate a quan- 
 tity of delicious things, but I had no appe- 
 tite. We drank champagne of course, 
 but I had to be careful so that I should not 
 look flushed when I reached home. Oth- 
 erwise, we sat there talking to each other
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 89 
 
 in most sedate fashion as though we were 
 at a confirmation dinner-party at Profes- 
 sor Magens's. 
 
 But what annoyed me most of all was 
 that my Don Juan evidently found the 
 evening extremely successful. After din- 
 ner he sat down in a most comfortable 
 easy-chair, sipped his liqueur and smoked 
 his cigar in leisurely and most careful 
 fashion, while he looked amiably at me, 
 talking to me in a kind, uncle-like voice as 
 if I was a baby. 
 
 In the midst of it all he asked, 'Well, is 
 it so dangerous after all to drink cham- 
 pagne with me?' 
 
 Ye gods, no! dangerous, one could 
 hardly call it, but not very amusing either. 
 
 I wonder was he merely acting a part, 
 or is he, by nature, such a cold fish. 
 
 Just for a moment after we entered the 
 room, and the waiter had left us, he 
 seemed so utterly different. I stood in 
 front of the mirror taking off my hat. 
 He stood behind, politely helping me.
 
 90 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 When at last I had finished by smoothing 
 my hair with my pocket-comb, and turned 
 round, he caught my hand and said, 'Now 
 may I be allowed to look at you?' 
 
 I asked, 'Well, is it a disappointment? 
 Do you regret you are going to spend the 
 evening with such an ugly girl?' 
 
 'Ugly? he answered, 'just the reverse.' 
 For a moment he seemed to consider the 
 question before he continued, 'I hope you 
 don't want any compliments. You are 
 not beautiful, but you are quite lovely. 
 Fresh and young, like leaves in May, with 
 a skin like fruit blossoms, and I have 
 never seen a mouth so like a cherry be- 
 fore/ 
 
 He said this quite simply, as if he 
 wanted to strike a quiet note, but the 
 sound of his voice was so gentle and hon- 
 est, his eyes looked so warm and happy. 
 For a moment a heavenly feeling came 
 over me, a feeling of bliss, of triumph, of 
 weakness.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 91 
 
 I grew calm again, when, in the most 
 matter-of-fact way, he said, 'I wish I 
 could be allowed to kiss you.' 
 
 How hideous and stupid this was. Just 
 like the other day when he started by say- 
 ing that the cab was waiting. 
 
 I answered gravely and severely, 'Let 
 us make a compact, Mr. Morch. I am de- 
 lighted to spend the evening with you 
 that unconventionally I have allowed my- 
 self. But you will have to behave in such 
 a way that I shall not have to repent this 
 evening too much. Remember what you 
 promised/ 
 
 'Yes,' he said, 'that is just the reason 
 why I asked to kiss you. Had we not 
 made that compact the other day, I would 
 have kissed you without permission. But 
 I'll keep my word. I'll behave just as 
 you wish me to, and now we won't talk any 
 more about that.' 
 
 He said it politely and smilingly with- 
 out a suspicion of annoyance or disap-
 
 92 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 pointment, and the rest of the evening he 
 was the same polite, contented, and smil- 
 ing being. Yet how changed he was. 
 
 That this indifferent bon-vivant who, at 
 dinner and afterwards, affably enter- 
 tained a young girl, he, of course, consid- 
 ered a silly little goose, could be the same 
 Romeo who, a moment before, had made 
 the same little Juliet blush was still 
 more incomprehensible than the sudden 
 change he underwent the other day. I 
 wonder what he really is? He does not 
 give me the impression of being an actor, 
 on the contrary he seems so natural. All 
 the same, I have a feeling that he is con- 
 stantly acting, and it amuses him to be- 
 wilder me by playing first one and then 
 another part. 
 
 Of course I told him who I was. I had 
 also to keep my promise. I believe he 
 was more than surprised, though he pre- 
 tended it was not the case. He only said 
 'Indeed,' and looked rather curiously at 
 me. I don't believe he thought I be-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 93 
 
 longed to such a good family. And alto- 
 gether I believe that throwing up my 
 anonymity gave him something to think 
 of. Shortly after he said, 'Then you 
 know architect Glerup?' 
 
 'Yes, very well indeed, and so do you.' 
 
 'You know that?' 
 
 'Yes, Erik Glerup has often talked of 
 you. You have a good friend in him and 
 an admirer.' 
 
 'Yes, Glerup is an enthusiast.' 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 He : 'Why do you laugh ? At Glerup's 
 enthusiasm for me?' 
 
 I: 'To tell you the truth, yes I must 
 confess I am a little disappointed.' 
 
 Now one must not think that this disap- 
 proving remark affected Mr Morch. On 
 the contrary he smiled most pleased, lifted 
 his glass, winked to me, and said: 'Gle- 
 rup's health, Miss Magens! I am at all 
 events not disappointed to meet another 
 object of his admiration.' 
 
 How his calmness irritated me. Noth-
 
 94 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ing, nothing seems of any importance to 
 him. As he sat there in his easy-chair he 
 looked as if nothing in the world could 
 shake him out of his lazy content. I do 
 believe that if the sky had opened sud- 
 denly and a couple of angels had dropped 
 down on his knee, he would without turn- 
 ing a hair have drunk their health. 
 Whether I like him or not is evidently of 
 no earthly consequence to him. I had a 
 clear sign of this when we drove away 
 from the restaurant. At my place at the 
 table was lying a beautiful bouquet. I 
 would have preferred to have taken it with 
 me as a souvenir of my only romance, but 
 when I said to him: 'It's a pity about the 
 lovely flowers, but I don't think I dare 
 take them home with me.' To which he 
 drily answered: 'They are certainly not 
 worth keeping; they are half faded al- 
 ready.' Truly one cannot call him an 
 eager or poetic gentleman. 
 
 He saw me into a cab to the corner of
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 95 
 
 our street. When nearing home he asked 
 me when and where we were going to meet 
 again. I answered we were not to meet 
 again. 
 
 'Dear me,' he said. 'Why so severe? I 
 was looking forward to seeing you at my 
 home; you would be more cosy there than 
 at a restaurant.' 
 
 'No, that is quite impossible. Besides, 
 I don't want to come.' 
 
 'Oh, very well.' 
 
 He sat in deep thought. But when the 
 cab stopped, he said and his voice had 
 again that lovely gentle sound: 'You can 
 believe me or disbelieve me as you please. 
 But I have never before seen a young girl 
 as lovely as you, and I am very, very sorry 
 that you won't meet me again. Good-bye, 
 and many thanks for this evening.' He 
 opened the cab, and when I gave him my 
 hand in farewell, he bent his head and 
 kissed it. 
 
 'You can believe me or disbelieve me.'
 
 96 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 Yes, if I only knew if he was honest or 
 merely acting. But after all it is finished, 
 and so much the better. 
 
 Absolutely finished. He did not even 
 propose a new meeting. Surely that does 
 not prove great eagerness on his part to 
 see me again. 
 
 The romance is finished, and it is a good 
 thing that it was not more romantic. 
 Without blushing too much, and in the 
 knowledge that it was something quite 
 done with, I could tell mother, who was 
 waiting up for me, a long story about the 
 dinner at Christiane's. 
 
 But think, if he had not asked me for 
 the kiss think if he had continued the be- 
 witching tune think if he had taken ad- 
 vantage of my weakness ! 
 
 Are you really a gentleman, Mr. Morch, 
 or merely a trifle stupid?
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 97 
 
 19 th OF FEB. 
 
 /^IHRISTIANE came this morning to 
 V^-/ hear what happened at the rendez- 
 vous. Not to disappoint her, and not to 
 make myself ridiculous, I gave her a fas- 
 cinating description of the evening's reck- 
 less enjoyment. And Christiane being a 
 romantic soul fed on library novels, I told 
 her that my cavalier had brought me a 
 pink silk mask, which I put on each time 
 the waiter entered the room, after hav- 
 ing discreetly knocked three times at the 
 door. 
 
 For each bottle of wine I uncorked, 
 Christiane's round face became more and 
 more flushed, and at last she asked, quite 
 intoxicated with my description: 'Well, 
 Julie, and when did he kiss you?' 
 
 I should like to have seen myself, when, 
 with my best duchess air, I answered: 
 'Please, spare me your housemaid point of 
 view, Jane. Do you really think it is 
 good form to kiss at a rendezvous?'
 
 98 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 Christiane answered in a shame-faced 
 way, 'I did not think such a thing quite 
 impossible.' 
 
 'Well, you see,' said I, out of my great 
 experience, 'at a rendezvous amongst nice 
 people, the kiss belongs to a much later 
 period. The cavalier must pay his re- 
 spects for a long time before he finally 
 kneels at the feet of his lady-love, and if 
 she considers him worthy, she will reward 
 him by giving him her hand and perhaps 
 her cheek, which he reverently touches 
 with his lips.' 
 
 Overwhelmed with admiration, Chris- 
 tiane looked at me and said: 'Yes, but to 
 be made love to in that way, one must be 
 awfully refined and clever.' I finished by 
 giving a little lecture about the fact that 
 the only reliable happiness consisted in 
 conquering temptation. Though my ren- 
 dezvous had been extremely successful, 
 and my cavalier had been devoted and 
 courteous, I had decided never to see him 
 again.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 99 
 
 Christiane applauded my heroic deci- 
 sion, but wept with pity when thinking of 
 the poor deserted shepherd. 
 
 If she only knew that the shepherd's 
 name is Alfred Morch, and that he asks 
 his shepherdess for a kiss in exactly the 
 same voice in which he would order a 
 shrimp sandwich. 
 
 21 st OF FEB. 
 
 npHANK heaven I took the letters 
 J. from the postman this morning my- 
 self. There was a dunning letter from 
 my shoemaker. I owe him sixteen crowns 
 for the patent leather shoes I bought for 
 the ball at Erik's uncle's, and which 
 mother thought I had paid for with the 
 money I got on the 1st of February from 
 Countess B. 
 
 Unfortunately no. For in money af- 
 fairs I am the most careless person in the 
 world. The money I got from the coun- 
 tess I owed my dressmaker, and the poor
 
 100 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 soul declared that she could not possibly 
 wait any longer. 
 
 I am in a nice hole. I have made up 
 my accounts, which show that I owe the 
 following: sixteen crowns to my shoe- 
 maker, who must be paid soon ; five crowns 
 to my glover, who won't give long credit ; 
 and five crowns to Christiane ; in all twen- 
 ty-six crowns. My assets being only one 
 crown and fifty ore and nothing more. I 
 have finished the work for the countess, 
 and have at present no more orders, and 
 the ten crowns I get from my parents each 
 month vanish like dew before the sun. 
 
 What am I to do? Mother cannot help 
 me, and besides I dare not admit that I did 
 not tell her the truth. Should I try 
 grandmama? Still, it is very difficult to 
 explain to her ; I fear I may break down in 
 the middle of my story. I know of 
 course where I could get the money. 
 Erik would be quite delighted if I asked 
 him to help me. But I am ashamed to go 
 to him. Besides he might misunderstand
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 101 
 
 me. If I was engaged to him it would be 
 a different thing, but now, no, for my own 
 sake, I could not possibly do it. 
 
 How disgusting it is to be a young girl. 
 One is dependent on all sides socially, 
 morally, and economically. If only we 
 had money enough the rest would not mat- 
 ter so much. Then one could do as one 
 pleased. Think how lovely to be out of 
 debt, and not to have to deny oneself any- 
 thing. Not to be obliged every time one 
 wants anything to go to mother, who 
 again has to go to father, who grumbles 
 and says 'no' ten times before he finally 
 consents to give the money. How horrid 
 such money is which one literally has to 
 beg for, and which is thrown at one with 
 surly words. 
 
 Of course, I could marry Erik. Then 
 I would be out of all my difficulties. 
 Erik would not deny me anything. He 
 would be pleased to fulfill my every wish, 
 happy to see me look as pretty as possible. 
 
 Two months ago I had no doubts about
 
 102 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 marrying him. It seemed to be a predes- 
 tined thing not to be altered. 
 
 But when he came, I hesitated, and now 
 it seems quite impossible. It seems like 
 throwing myself away. Like giving up 
 all greater happiness just to save myself 
 from the little worries of daily life. 
 
 Perhaps this is only foolish imaginings 
 for what greater happiness awaits me. 
 Yet, I cannot. 
 
 22 nd OF FEB. 
 
 LIFE is not so sad after all. There is 
 a kind providence which helps little 
 girls in distress. My providence takes the 
 form of an old lady, who wears little white 
 caps and sits on a large sofa, and is called 
 grandmama. 
 
 I rang the bell this morning with a 
 trembling heart. Old Marie opened the 
 door and said: 'Oh, how nice, Miss Julie, 
 that you have come to-day, my mistress 
 has been longing so much to see you.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 103 
 
 I went in to grandmama, sat down on 
 the visitor's chair opposite the sofa. A 
 little refreshment was as usual arranged 
 on the table, a glass with strawberry li- 
 queur and a plate of biscuits. Grand- 
 mama sat looking at me with her large, 
 quiet eyes. I told her a little nervously 
 what I had been doing since I saw her 
 last. 'Eat something, child,' she said, 
 'and drink a glass of wine, that will bring 
 some colour into your cheeks.' I emptied 
 the glass in one gulp to get courage, and 
 I began nibbling a biscuit. But it stuck 
 in my throat. Meanwhile I talked and 
 talked, but I hardly knew what I said. 
 Grandmama's eyes never left me, and 
 again she nodded thoughtfully. Sud- 
 denly she said: 'Well, child, what is the 
 matter with you?' 
 
 'Nothing at all, grandmama' ; but in the 
 same moment my eyes filled with tears. 
 Grandmama nodded again, and said al- 
 most in a sly voice ; 'Get up, child, and go 
 over to the chest of drawers. Pull out the
 
 104 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 top drawer, and take out the green book 
 with numbers on it.' 
 
 'Yes, grandmama, I have got it.' 
 
 'In that book are some blue pieces of 
 paper, two of them are for you.' 
 
 You darling blessed grandmama, you 
 wisest and best of all human creatures. 
 
 Now I am on top again. The shoe- 
 maker has got his money, and the glover 
 can wait till the first. I ought really to 
 have paid him the five crowns, but Frantz 
 borrowed them from me as soon as I got 
 home. Poor boy, he is hard up as well, 
 and to-day I could not bear to see him mis- 
 erable. 
 
 Altogether, it has been a good day for 
 me. Erik came this evening. He was 
 also in good humour. We had the fol- 
 lowing conversation : 'Do you know, Julie, 
 you are beginning to have a great success. 
 People are beginning to notice you, and 
 think you lovely.' 
 
 'Indeed, and may I ask who do you 
 mean by people?
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 105 
 
 'Alfred Morch.' 
 
 I, inwardly horrorstricken, outwardly 
 indifferent : 
 
 'But he does not know me at all.' 
 
 'He has seen you in the street. He was 
 walking with a friend who knew who you 
 were. I tell you, he was quite wild about 
 you. I have never heard him speak with 
 so much admiration of any other woman.' 
 
 'I ought, I suppose, to feel extremely 
 flattered, but you must excuse me, I am 
 not. I don't value Mr. Morch's opinion 
 of me in the least.' 
 
 But, of course, I value his opinion. 
 That is, it amuses me that I did after all 
 make an impression on this wooden figure 
 that he has not quite forgotten me. Well, 
 well, this pleases me muchly, dear sir. 
 
 I should very much like to know 
 whether he has intentionally filled Erik's 
 ears with my praises, so that it might 
 travel back to me. Did he mean that 
 Erik, without knowing it, should do serv-
 
 106 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ice as postilion d'amour? It is a clever 
 idea, but not very refined. But should 
 Mr. Morch have had such intentions, I 
 am, at all events, pleased to know that the 
 answer I have sent him through his mes- 
 senger is not at all encouraging. 
 
 25 th OF FEB. 
 
 ERIK came this afternoon. When 
 we were alone, he pulled half -nerv- 
 ously a letter out of his pocket and gave 
 it to me. I did not know the handwriting, 
 and asked 'Who is it from?' 
 
 'Look for yourself,' he said. And 
 added, 'Of course, it is only a joke.' 
 
 It was a letter from Alfred Morch, ask- 
 ing Erik and me to dine with him. My 
 first impulse was to be angry. I thought 
 the joke was in very bad taste, but just as 
 I was going to speak about it to Erik, my 
 eyes fell on the first letters of the first 
 lines and I read a word. This stopped 
 what I was going to say ; I blushed, grew
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 107 
 
 embarrassed, and finally left the room. 
 When I got into my own room I spread 
 the letter out before me and read as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 ' Can and will you, dear lady, 
 offer one of your evenings to 
 me, an unknown friend of 
 Erik's? If so, I hope you will be 
 able, both of you, to come before 
 long, say at seven-thirty 
 on Thursday next. My address is 
 number 38 Corn-Market Square. 
 Erik will, I trust, assure you, 
 dear lady, of the respect and 
 of the sincere admiration of 
 
 Yours truly, ALFRED MORCH.' 
 
 At first glance there was nothing mys- 
 terious or curious about the letter. But if 
 one read it, guided by subtle intuition, the 
 first letters of each line, a tiny letter ap- 
 peared within the letter, a secret little mes- 
 sage, saying, 'Come alone, do.' 
 
 It was impossible that this could be 
 mere chance. I felt sure it was a cun-
 
 108 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ningly arranged game; and why should I 
 deny that I thought it a very amusing one. 
 It seemed to me so romantic and recklessly 
 adventurous, to carry on a clandestine cor- 
 respondence in this fashion, a correspond- 
 ence unimportant and innocent to the one, 
 bringing secret messages to the other. 
 
 Quickly I wrote my answer, and 
 brought it in to Erik. With dignity I 
 handed it to him, and asked him to read it, 
 at the same time expressing the hope that 
 in the future I should be spared his and 
 his friend's jokes. 
 
 My answer was : 
 
 ' Dear Sir: 
 
 Please accept mine and 
 Erik's best thanks for the 
 rather curious letter you 
 have sent us. I ought to be 
 angry, but I think Erik is 
 possibly most to blame, 
 so therefore I forgive you both. 
 
 Yours, F. M. 
 
 Erik was evidently not very pleased 
 with my answer. I hope it will be more
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 109 
 
 appreciated by Mr. Morch, and that he 
 will understand how to find in it that 'per- 
 haps' which, like a balance, weighs Julie's 
 virtue and recklessness. 
 
 3 rd OF MAKCH. 
 
 A WONDERFUL, an unforgetta- 
 ble evening. Never before have I 
 had such a good time. Now I know what 
 it means to be happy. It was as beautiful 
 as a dream, and it is still with me with all 
 the vague mistiness of a dream. 
 
 I have been in a bright and beautiful 
 world, where everything was radiant, and 
 radiant in my honour; where everything 
 was done to please me, and where my 
 wishes were guessed and fulfilled almost 
 before they had shaped themselves in my 
 own mind. I have been in a world where 
 all speech seemed frank and amiable, 
 where everything was arranged for enjoy- 
 ment enjoyment refined and without 
 violence, giving me a feeling of unspeak-
 
 110 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 able content. I have been to a place of 
 peace and confidence, where nothing at all 
 seemed frightening to a shy little girl. 
 
 I remember it all as a dream, a dream of 
 silver mist and faintest blue. 
 
 A trembling ascent up a creaking stair- 
 case, with frightened glances at all the 
 names on the doors. Then suddenly a 
 suffocating heart-beat at seeing his name. 
 At the same moment the door is opened, 
 and a guiding hand gently draws me in. 
 
 In the front room a shaded light. Be- 
 yond, between portieres, a sense of warm 
 and festive cheeriness. I am in the midst 
 of a large cosy room. A voice bids me 
 welcome, a face smiles to me, and the voice 
 continues, 'Thank you so much for com- 
 ing. I have been longing for you. 
 Now, be a dear, and put away all these 
 wraps, and let us have a really nice time 
 together.' My fear vanishes, I feel calm 
 and confident. I give him my hand and
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 111 
 
 we laugh to one another like two old 
 friends happy in meeting again. 
 
 Immediately I am in the enchantment. 
 I am quickly at home in these rooms. 
 Though the impression is one of great 
 simplicity, I have a sort of feeling that 
 the furniture is old and costly, but it all 
 seems to give peace and comfort to soul 
 and body. I am treated as mistress here, 
 as the lady of the house, and I feel I be- 
 long to this place, and to nowhere else in 
 the world. 
 
 I am led in to table. An elderly quiet 
 woman brings in the dishes, changes the 
 plates, pours out the wine, everything is 
 done without an order. The woman 
 seems to consider it quite natural that I 
 am sitting at her master's table. She 
 looks kindly at me, and I smile to her. 
 
 We eat, drink and talk. His face 
 shines with kindness and pleasure. I 
 never thought his face could shine like 
 that. We laugh and drink each other's 
 healths, and when the meal is finished he
 
 112 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 kisses my hand, offers me his arm and 
 leads me into the sitting-room, where 
 many candles and lamps are lit, without 
 giving any garish feeling. A sweet scent 
 of hyacinths fills the room, and I find de- 
 licious rest in a huge arm-chair, in front 
 of which he pushes a footstool, while he 
 props me up with lots of pillows. He 
 busies himself about the room, offers me 
 a cigarette and yellow liqueur, and does 
 not sit down before he has asked me if I 
 am quite happy, or if there is anything 
 else he can get for me. 
 
 I wish I could sit here for all eternity 
 here in his beautiful room, where he 
 speaks so gaily and cleverly to me, and in 
 a more refined way than anybody else I 
 have ever known. He looks smilingly at 
 me with eyes which are no longer black 
 and dangerous, but boyish and good. I 
 feel as though I could allow myself to be 
 a little foolish, just to be a child, and to 
 look up to him as to the very best parent 
 in the world.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 113 
 
 It does not help me at all that I say to 
 myself that I am silly, and that he is per- 
 haps only laughing at me, taking it all as 
 a joke. Nobody in all the world has ever 
 been to me as he was to-night, so perfect, 
 so wonderful. If any evil or cunning 
 thought was in his mind, I won't ask, I 
 won't know. I only know that now I 
 cannot let him go, and that he did not need 
 to ask me to come again, I should have 
 come all the same. I know that I love 
 him, that I am unspeakably happy, and 
 that I shall pass all the night in tears. 
 
 4 th OF MARCH. 
 
 I HAVE gone about in a dream all 
 day. I hardly know what I have 
 said and done. I remember only that I 
 have felt curiously and sweetly sad, that I 
 have found everything beautiful and 
 everybody good. I myself have been 
 sweet and good too, and feel as if I must
 
 114 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 show them all here at home how much I 
 love them. 
 
 I went for a lovely walk with mother in 
 the beautiful spring weather, the first real 
 spring day we have had. Now I am de- 
 lightfully tired, longing for sleep for 
 sleep and dreams. 
 
 10 th OF MAECH. 
 
 I LIVE in eternal restlessness. Every 
 day drives me along in a whirl of fear 
 and devil-me-carishness, heaven-blue joy, 
 and black despair. Whither will it lead? 
 What do I wish, and what will he do with 
 me? 
 
 But through it all I hear the terrifying 
 and ever-returning cry: 'Does he love 
 you? or is he only a little bit more in love 
 with you than with any other young girl 
 he meets on his way?' 
 
 I was with him again yesterday. I had 
 hoped he would say something which
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 115 
 
 would make me understand him better. 
 But he was just the same dear, gentle and 
 bewilderingly sweet being, but, at the 
 same time, so absolutely passive, so ret- 
 icent, so elusive. 
 
 Yet I tried to break through his reserve 
 a little, and asked: 'What did you really 
 think of me the day you got my letter?' 
 
 4 1 thought it was from a lady who was 
 in love with me,' he answered most calmly. 
 
 'But when you heard it was only a 
 wager, what did you think ?' 
 
 He looked smilingly at me before he 
 answered: 'Well, to be perfectly frank, I 
 did not believe it for a moment.' 
 
 'Then you thought all the same I was in 
 love with you?' 
 
 'No, but when I saw you, I hoped you 
 would be/ 
 
 I was silent for a while, then I ventured 
 to ask the following question: 'But if I 
 should fall in love with you of course 
 you know that is not the case now but 
 if?'
 
 116 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 'Then, it would make me very happy.' 
 
 'But it would be a pity for me for you 
 well you ' 
 
 Then it was he should have said the 
 words I was hoping and waiting for, but 
 instead he only answered as if he wished 
 to finish the discussion : 'Dear lady, that is 
 a question we need not discuss. I can 
 only repeat what I said the first time we 
 met: You need fear nothing from me; I 
 will never ask you for more than you will 
 give of your own free will. I leave the 
 development of our friendship entirely in 
 your hands. I am pleased and grateful 
 when you come here as my friend; it is a 
 joy for me just to see you in my rooms. 
 But (this with a smile) should the day 
 ever come when you will give me more 
 than your friendship, you know it will 
 make me intensely happy.' 
 
 Of course, in a way, it is extremely nice 
 and correct of him to ask nothing, and yet 
 if he was really in love with me, would he 
 be so discreet, and is his discretion any-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 117 
 
 thing else but cautiousness, fear of re- 
 sponsibility and worry? 
 
 Sometimes, when I think of him, I long 
 to hurt him, to tear the mask off his face, 
 to pull him to pieces, to see if there is any 
 passion behind. I wonder if he can laugh 
 loudly. I wonder if he can cry. I won- 
 der if he can feel deeply like other human 
 creatures. In my thoughts I can hate 
 him and his ever-smiling amiability, his su- 
 periority, his perfect correctness. He is 
 like a machine, not a creature of blood and 
 heart and nerves. But I know that when 
 I see him, when I am with him, all revolt 
 dies away in my soul ; his calm and smiling 
 eyes kill all will-power in me. His firm 
 tranquillity conquers my thoughts, so that 
 I have only one idea, to please him, to 
 bow down and obey him. 
 
 He says that the development of our 
 friendship is in my hands. As though he 
 did not know, that he holds me in his 
 hands, and can do with me as he pleases.
 
 118 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 12 th OF MAECH. 
 
 I AM terrified with myself. I, who 
 have never done a thing without con- 
 fiding in mother, now lie to her like a 
 trooper. How low, disgusting, and un- 
 dignified it is to lie like this. In reality 
 I am not at all ashamed that I love him 
 and go to see him. It is the only thing of 
 value in my life. I feel that I am grow- 
 ing through my love. Before I felt I 
 was in the shade, now I am growing in 
 richness and colouring in the sunshine. 
 Why should it then be necessary to sully 
 and degrade my happiness with denial 
 and untruth? 
 
 But if I was honest; if I told the truth, 
 one of two things would happen: either 
 that I should have to give him up, or that 
 I should leave my home to go where? 
 The first I cannot do, and the second I 
 dare not; yet if he should say 'come to me.' 
 But he will never, never do that. I would 
 not ask such a sacrifice of him. There-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 119 
 
 fore I have no choice, and I must lie and 
 lie again, steal away to my happiness, 
 sneak away from home with terror in my 
 heart, being prepared on my return to be 
 received with the awful words: 'You are 
 found out.' 
 
 I lie till I am hot all over with shame. 
 I lie madly, unable any longer to find rea- 
 sonable excuses for my constantly going 
 out. I cannot understand that mother 
 has not yet noticed anything. 
 
 The most revolting thing is that I have 
 to hide my love for him under a mask of 
 friendship for Christiane. To have to 
 deny him, who is my pride, and swear al- 
 legiance to Christiane, to force myself to 
 be nice to her to secure her help. 
 
 Already, knowing how necessary she is 
 to me, she has started to treat me in a con- 
 ceited and aggressive manner. With her 
 questions she offends what seems most 
 sacred to me, and with her coarse, plebeian 
 greediness she fumbles all over the dearest
 
 120 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 secrets of my soul; those I hardly dare to 
 reveal to myself. I get so angry with her 
 that I could hit her round, fat face. 
 
 Even you, my not-much-loved papa, I 
 could have kissed yesterday, when you said 
 at dinner: 'What on earth does your sud- 
 den passion for Christiane mean? She 
 looks, Heaven help her, nothing more 
 than a vegetable marrow on two sticks.' 
 
 16 th OF MARCH. 
 
 HE asked me to-night if I was going 
 to marry Erik. I answered wil- 
 fully in an undecided way. I wanted to 
 see what impression it made on him. 
 
 He answered: 'Erik will make a good 
 husband, which is more than I can say of 
 myself. I belong to the people who are 
 charming to meet now and again but who 
 are intolerable in daily life. I am cross 
 and difficult, and when I am studying a 
 part I am quite impossible. You will 
 hardly believe it, but there are days when
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 121 
 
 it is absolute torture to me to speak to a 
 human being. My wife would certainly 
 not have an easy time of it.' 
 
 To this I said : 'Thanks for the warning. 
 You need not be afraid. I don't want to 
 marry you. I have never looked upon 
 you as a candidate for marriage.' 
 
 Later he returned to the same subject: 
 'Then you could imagine marrying Erik?' 
 
 He sat near me on the sofa, my right 
 hand rested on the table in front of us. 
 As I did not answer at once, he took my 
 hand and repeated his question in a whis- 
 per. Then I said, or I believe I said, that 
 I fancied there had been a time when I 
 really meant to marry Erik, but that now 
 'Well?' I heard him whisper, 'Now I 
 know it is impossible.' 'And why?' his 
 face was close to mine, his eyes looked so 
 imploringly and warmly into mine, I felt 
 the blood rush into my face, everything 
 became vague and hazy, I felt faint, and 
 then well then he had kissed me and I 
 him, and I heard him say 'thou' to me, and
 
 122 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 it seemed the most natural thing in the 
 world that I also said 'thou' to him. I 
 don't remember anything more than that 
 he held me in his arms, and I heard him 
 say, in a voice which still trembles in my 
 ears and makes my heart beat with joy, 
 'My own darling little girl, my beautiful 
 little girl.' 
 
 Yes, one thing I remember, that I said 
 to him, 'But I am not the least bit beauti- 
 ful,' and he answered: 'You are more 
 beautiful than anybody else: you are the 
 whitest, the daintiest, and the sweetest in 
 the world. You are just what the old 
 poets call a virgin-flower.' 
 
 When I came home, I had to look in 
 my mirror, and, lo and behold, I really 
 thought that I looked quite sweet. I am 
 sure that is what one calls suggestion. 
 He fancies me beautiful and I become 
 beautiful.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 123 
 
 20 th OF MARCH. 
 
 I AM afraid of my diary. Several 
 times I have taken it out and put it 
 back again without writing a word in it, 
 for in front of that I have to look truth 
 in the face, to account for myself and to 
 make it quite clear, what is happening to 
 me. I dare not look at the present or into 
 the future. 
 
 I know that I am on a slope and that 
 the way irrevocably goes downwards. I 
 fear all the terror, all the misery lurking 
 in the depths, and yet I am drawn irre- 
 sistibly towards them. For each step I 
 pull myself back, I seem to slip two for- 
 wards. I hear already the roar from 
 down below, I feel the cold splash of the 
 waves. Even God cannot help me, for 
 I will, I must go down. I dare not think, 
 I dare not feel. Only when I am with 
 him, I am at peace. When he speaks to 
 me, the warning bell of home ceases to 
 ring in my ears. When he looks at me, 
 the threatening pictures vanish before my
 
 124 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 eyes, and I see only flowers and sunshine, 
 and all the most beautiful things in the 
 world. When he holds my hands, I know 
 that whither the road leads, it leads to hap- 
 piness. In his arms, everything which is 
 outside him is forgotten, dead, and left 
 behind as the maid sings in the old ballad : 
 'He fills my ears, he fills my mouth, and he 
 my sea-king bears me down to his palace 
 deep under the sea !' 
 
 22 nd OF MARCH. 
 
 THERE is disturbance in our neigh- 
 bour's camp over the way. Yester- 
 day the grand-piano was taken away, and 
 to-day workmen took up the carpets in the 
 flat. I wonder if he is breaking-up his 
 home. I shall miss him a little. It seems 
 as though I knew him quite well, and when 
 we looked over at each other, it was as if 
 we had mutual secrets. 
 
 Curiously enough I have never found 
 out who he is and what his name is? I
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 125 
 
 don't know why, but somehow I have 
 never liked to ask our maid, who, I 
 am sure, would have been able to tell 
 me. I preferred to keep him as a 
 mystery, and have been quite afraid to 
 find out some day that his name was Pe- 
 tersen, and that he might, for that matter, 
 be a grocer or something equally ordinary. 
 
 I cannot help smiling when I think that, 
 in my thoughts, he has even played the 
 part of a prince. I was only a child then, 
 who knew nothing of life, who only lived 
 in dreams. Beautiful and delightful it 
 was to dream, but it is a thousandfold 
 more beautiful and delightful to live, at 
 least when one is in love. I ought to add, 
 especially when the loved one is dearer and 
 more beautiful than even the prince of 
 Illyria. 
 
 To-morrow I am going to my prince. 
 I am going in my sweetest frock and can 
 make myself look as pretty as possible, for 
 they think at home that I am going to a 
 small dance at Christiane's. I was not
 
 126 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 more excited when I went to my first 
 grown-up ball. My mind is like the sky 
 on an April day, now radiant, dancing 
 sunshine, now heavy, lowering clouds. 
 
 23 rd -24 th OF MARCH, 1.30 NIGHT. 
 
 I GOT through all right. Though the 
 gods alone know how. I had pre- 
 pared nothing to say, but rattled along 
 about the food, about who had been there 
 and all that kind of thing; said at last I 
 had a headache, and got quickly away 
 from further motherly inquisitiveness. 
 
 And now quickly to bed, down, down 
 under the clothes to hide myself away and 
 not think. Sleep away from all thoughts. 
 Though why why should I not think. 
 Why not think the only thought which is 
 in my mind that I am yours, yours. 
 Yours I am of my own free will, because 
 you are more to me than father and 
 mother and everything in the world. Be- 
 cause everything else means nothing to
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 127 
 
 me, if I may only be in your life, if I may 
 only be allowed to love you, and you will 
 be good to me. 
 
 You, my only one, my dear one, good- 
 night; my thoughts go out to you with a 
 thousand kisses, ah, may they meet yours. 
 
 24 th OF MARCH. 
 
 WHEN I woke up late this morning 
 because I did not fall asleep till 
 it was almost morning I said to myself, 
 even before I had opened my eyes: 'This 
 will be a sad day for you.' But in the 
 same moment my eyes met the clear sun- 
 shine of the day, there rose within me, like 
 the song of the lark, 'Good-morning, fair 
 maiden, good-morning to all life's de- 
 lights.' 
 
 And I jumped out of bed, looked into 
 the glass, and saw clear eyes, blushing 
 cheeks, and a dimple like a kiss. The 
 whole has been a great surprise to me. A 
 surprise that I am not unhappy, but most
 
 128 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 of all a surprise because nobody seems to 
 have discovered the slightest change in me. 
 
 Therefore, apparently, I must be the 
 same as before. No red cross on my fore- 
 head, no black mark on my nose. The 
 same to every one except to myself. For 
 to me it is, as if from the narrow chrysalis, 
 which shrouded life's wonderful meaning, 
 I had flown out to the radiant brightness 
 of revelation, as a butterfly intoxicated 
 with happiness. Before, my walk was 
 heavy, now it is as if I glided lightly over 
 life's worries as if I had wings, bearing 
 me away from all difficulties. I stand on 
 an earth which lifts itself under me, and 
 I embrace a heaven which lowers itself 
 over me. Joyous music is round me and 
 I myself am like a song, rising upwards 
 and upwards. 
 
 What does it mean to lie? To have a 
 secret so sweet and glorious, that one can- 
 not share it with any one. It is easy to 
 lie, but a lie is a hideous word with a beau- 
 tiful meaning. What else does the sun
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 129 
 
 do, when hidden behind the clouds, it lets 
 a lonely little ray steal out to the violet on 
 the bank? What else do the birds do, 
 when they play hide-and-seek behind the 
 foliage of the trees? 
 
 I walked through the town to-day. I 
 met thousands of people. What did they 
 see in me? A young girl like thousands 
 of other young girls, who goes for a walk 
 guarded and protected by her mother. 
 But what they did not see, what they were 
 not allowed to see, because it was her 
 glorious secret, was the glance the young 
 girl exchanged with a young man on the 
 other side of the street what they did not 
 see was that at the corner she took two 
 bunches of violets from the flower-girl, 
 lifted them to her lips and only bought 
 one, while he at once bought the other one, 
 which he kissed. 
 
 How splendid it is to be alive, how 
 splendid it is to be young. Let come 
 what may. Let the future be ever so 
 black. That happiness which now raises
 
 130 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 itself like a golden temple in my heart will 
 throw its reflex through all the darkness 
 of time. 
 
 And now, beloved, bend your head close 
 to me and let me fill your ears with my 
 joyous confession, so that you shall not 
 forget it I am happy, happier than any 
 word in the language can say, for all the 
 words are made for commerce and traffic 
 and not for the joy of lovers. I am 
 happy to be yours, happy that you have 
 chosen me good-night. 
 
 25 th OF MAECH. 
 
 WHEN this morning I sat in the 
 open window enjoying the sunny 
 spring air, I saw my neighbour busily oc- 
 cupied. He was packing books and pic- 
 tures into a big box. While he was thus 
 occupied, the favourite's carriage came 
 driving up. On hearing the carriage, he 
 glanced quickly along the road, and hast- 
 ened to draw the curtains over the win-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 131 
 
 dow. The lady got out and as usual the 
 carriage drove away. I thought no more 
 of this and had already forgotten my 
 neighbour and his friend. I sat looking 
 out into the bright spring day and my 
 thoughts wandered away to other things 
 which were more important to me. I sup- 
 pose five minutes must have passed, when 
 I saw the favourite again come out of the 
 street door. She was still veiled and she 
 pressed her hand to her heart, and seemed 
 scarcely able to walk. For a moment she 
 stood leaning against the door, then she 
 drew herself up, put back the veil from a 
 face uncannily white, and crossed the 
 road I now stood up to watch her and 
 looked up at our neighbour's windows. 
 
 Was it imagination, or was it fancy, 
 but I seemed to hear a mocking, threaten- 
 ing laugh. Then the figure disappeared 
 along the road. 
 
 My bright spring mood had vanished. 
 I could not get out of my thoughts the 
 pale and tortured face with its impotent,
 
 132 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 almost absurd, defiance, and all day long 
 sounded in my ears the bitter laugh of 
 humiliation, the laugh I heard . . . 
 for I must have heard it. 
 
 What a hard and brutal man he must 
 be. Yet, I should not have behaved in 
 such an undignified way in her place. If 
 his infatuation had passed, surely she must 
 have noticed it. Even if he had not 
 wished to speak out, she ought to have 
 forced him to tell her the truth. This I 
 know, that if the day should come when 
 I feel he is growing tired, that moment I 
 shall leave him. I shall never allow him 
 to feel our relationship a bore. I am too 
 proud to live on his mercy, and pity. Not 
 even a complaint shall he hear. I will dis- 
 appear from his life and nothing shall 
 ever remind him of me. 
 
 I am glad I am not going to see him 
 again to-night. I have been so miserable 
 all day, I fear I should have burst into 
 tears. 
 
 And I, who ought to surprise him by
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 133 
 
 being such a bright and happy girl. I 
 must try to sleep away all the ugly 
 thoughts. 
 
 26 th OF MARCH. 
 
 THIS morning, two vans carried away 
 our neighbour's furniture, and he 
 followed in a cab. Just before he was go- 
 ing to leave, he came to the window and 
 looked over to me. He tried evidently to 
 catch my eye, to send me a mute good-bye. 
 But I pretended not to see him. 
 
 Now he has gone and the flat is empty. 
 I am very glad. I feel as if a nightmare 
 had been lifted from my heart and again 
 I breathe freely. 
 
 And to-night I shall regain my happi- 
 ness in his arms. 
 
 1 st OF APRIL. 
 
 MY dearest love, this letter, which 
 you'll never see, shall tell you all 
 the words which die on my lips when I
 
 134 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 am with you, die because they seem to 
 childish and silly for you you wise and 
 prudent man. 
 
 Here, where you are only present in 
 my soul, here I can speak to you, without 
 fearing to meet the ironical smile in the 
 corner of your mouth, the smile I suppose 
 you are very proud of, because it raises 
 you so high above a little ignorant loving 
 girl. 
 
 Anyhow I must tell you how and why 
 I became yours. 
 
 In reality you don't know me at all. 
 You have every reason to think badly of 
 me, for the way in which I came to you 
 was as though I was merely saying, 'Here 
 I am, please, take me.' I became yours 
 because instinctively you understood me. 
 At all events you understood so much as 
 to realise that you had met a little being 
 whom it was necessary not to frighten, 
 whom you had to treat as something very 
 fragile. The first time I was with you 
 I always sat ready to fly away at the
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 135 
 
 slightest surprise. A hasty word, a too 
 violent caress, and I should have flown. 
 The words you did not speak were those 
 which conquered me. I don't think you 
 know me in the least. Now I am yours, 
 and I will continue to be yours, as long as 
 you will have me. But if you think that 
 it is your kisses and your caresses which 
 make me yours, then you are highly mis- 
 taken. I am no Miss Goody-Goody, no 
 angelic prude. I drink your kisses as 
 joyfully as the fern drinks the summer 
 dew. I am yours with desire and with 
 joy. I am yours because I want to be 
 yours. I don't want to be like quicksil- 
 ver, which disappears in your hands. 
 Dear lord and master, all that is mine I 
 give you without sophistry and reserva- 
 tion. But what I should like you to un- 
 derstand is this : I could quite well do with- 
 out your caresses, my love would be quite 
 as strong without them. It would hurt 
 me to think that you took me for a little 
 Miss Light-of-love, a little Miss Kiss-in-
 
 136 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 the-corner, who came to you with warm 
 blood and reckless desires. 
 
 I wonder if you can understand this, I 
 wonder if you will believe it. All I ask 
 is to be with you, see you, listen to what 
 you say ; yes, I would even be happy with 
 less. You say, that often you are not in 
 the mood for speech, that you need to be 
 in peace with your own thoughts. Do 
 you know what is my greatest wish ? That 
 on such a day, when you lock yourself 
 in, alone with your art, that you would 
 then allow me to be in your room, quiet in 
 a corner. I should be as quiet as a mouse, 
 you should not feel yourself obliged to pay 
 me the slightest attention, you should only 
 allow me to enjoy the happiness it would 
 be for me to know that of all people on 
 earth, I was the only one you could suf- 
 fer in your lonely moments. 
 
 In my fancies I often enjoy such an 
 hour. I try then to guess the thoughts 
 that are moving within you. I see you 
 then with half -closed eyes, with nervously
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 137 
 
 twitching eyelids. Your head resting on 
 your hand. But whenever I see you sud- 
 denly lift your head, and look up with 
 large shining eyes, then I know you have 
 got the bright idea you were seeking, and 
 my heart beats joyfully in tune with 
 yours. At last I see you triumphantly 
 stretch out your arms with a smile of vic- 
 tory on your face, you re-light the ciga- 
 rette which you have allowed to go out 
 while you were thinking, and suddenly re- 
 membering that your little girl is in your 
 room, you come over to her, take her hand 
 in yours, and say how glad you are that 
 she is with you, and how awfully good 
 and dear she has been, not disturbing you 
 in the least. 
 
 Do you never, never think that it is this 
 way that I love you, or do you not care to 
 know? Are you afraid that I shall love 
 you too much? 
 
 Do you never realise how hard it is for 
 me to part from you the evenings I have 
 been with you? You must not think me a
 
 138 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 designing little person, for whom it is 
 quite a usual thing to play tricks right 
 under her parents' noses, and for whom it 
 is a special pleasure after she has been out 
 enjoying her secret meetings to invent a 
 new story with which to deceive her 
 mother. 
 
 No, dearest, you must not think of me 
 like that. Certainly there is nothing in 
 the world I would not do to be able to 
 come to you. I don't complain. I don't 
 want you to think I consider my happi- 
 ness too dearly bought. On the other 
 hand I should not like you to think that I 
 take it all too lightly. 
 
 Then there are the days between our 
 meetings. Of course you are unable to 
 understand that three or four days can be 
 an eternity. You have so many things 
 to interest you. Your work, your pleas- 
 ures, your life is in a world where every 
 hour of the day brings new nourishment, 
 new material. But when I am away 
 from you existence closes round me like
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 139 
 
 prison walls, whose only warmth is my 
 longing for you, whose only colouring is 
 my memory of your brightness. But 
 how should you be able to understand any- 
 thing of all this. You, who only see a 
 happy face come and go, who know noth- 
 ing of the life which belongs to the happy 
 face from the moment it nods a smiling 
 farewell until it next laughs a joyful 
 greeting to you. 
 
 But should your thoughts ever, when I 
 am away from you, try to follow me, and 
 had they the power to see through doors 
 and walls, they would see the happy face 
 changed into a picture of doleful misery. 
 I don't know how it is, it may be wrong 
 and ungrateful of me, but the first day's 
 radiant happiness, which carried me over 
 all worries and shed a golden light on 
 everything round me, has vanished, giv- 
 ing place to moodiness and fear, which 
 only now and again changes into nervous 
 merriment and the desire for excitement 
 and noise around me. Never before has
 
 140 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 my own home seemed so poor, and cold, 
 and grey, as when I return from playing 
 the mistress of your house. As we sit eat- 
 ing our dinner in mournful dulness, there 
 rises within me a sudden longing, a feel- 
 ing of loneliness, and I have to bite my 
 lips together to keep myself from burst- 
 ing into tears. 
 
 But in the twilight, it is generally worst, 
 when I sit huddled up in my corner of the 
 window. Then the doubts come stealing 
 out, pushing their clammy, rat-like snouts 
 into my mind, Where is he now? Who 
 is with him? Is he at a party with charm- 
 ing and fascinating women? Is he look- 
 ing at them with love in his eyes, as when 
 he bends over me? Is his voice gentle and 
 bewitching, as when he whispers to me? 
 What am I to him now? Does he give 
 me a thought, or does he in other arms for- 
 get his Julie? 
 
 I know, dear one, I have no right to 
 ask for accounts; you have never prom- 
 ised me faithfulness, and I love you too
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 141 
 
 much ever to ask it. We made no con- 
 tract and no conditions when I gave my- 
 self to you, and of course I ought to have 
 known that I was not the only one. 
 
 I don't ask for more now. Only I wish 
 you to understand that I need you terri- 
 bly, and that you must be good to me. I 
 have to live for days on the few hours' 
 happiness with you. And should it hap- 
 pen, as it did last time, that you say some- 
 thing cold or teasing, the words freeze into 
 my heart, and everything seems hopeless 
 until I see you again. 
 
 If I should send you this letter you 
 would be unable to hide your ironical 
 smile. You would say I was a fool, and 
 for the moment I should agree with you 
 because I always agree with you for the 
 moment but afterwards your smile 
 would make me desperately miserable. 
 
 You only want me as a happy face, a 
 diversion now and again. While I am 
 so recklessly yours I can do nothing 
 know nothing be nothing, without you.
 
 142 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 That is the reason this letter stays in my 
 diary. JULIE. 
 
 3 rd OF APRIL. 
 
 THAT which had to come has come. 
 Erik and I have said good-bye to 
 each other. 
 
 I am glad it is over, and that it hap- 
 pened so quietly and nicely. I feel it a re- 
 lief ; that I no longer have to dread Erik's 
 astonished, inquiring, reproachful glances. 
 
 He had noticed that I was changing to- 
 wards him. He felt that I was drifting 
 further and further away from him, 
 without knowing why. I am glad that it is 
 over. It was so hideous, it hurt me. It 
 infuriated me to unjust hatred, made me 
 act in a low and unworthy way. 
 
 When I was a half -grown girl I had a 
 dog. I was capricious, and did not al- 
 ways treat it well, yet it loved me. One 
 day it happened that when, in the usual 
 way, it rubbed itself aif ectionately against
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 143 
 
 me, I sent it roughly away. It slunk away 
 to the corner by the fireplace, where it lay 
 down with its head between its front paws. 
 But every moment it looked at me, and 
 suddenly it stood again in front of me, 
 staring at me with eyes that seemed to say: 
 Why do you treat me so harshly? 
 
 I remember there were days when these 
 mute, accusing eyes aroused in me a per- 
 fect fury. I could have killed the dog. 
 The same feeling I have had during the 
 last few weeks for Erik. With what 
 right did his eyes call me to account? 
 What right had they to interfere with my 
 mode of life like an accusing conscience? 
 
 But the worst and most painful thing 
 was, that every time of late we have met, 
 Erik and I have been forced by curious 
 fatality to speak of him. No matter what 
 subject we started we always ended by 
 discussing him. Every time Erik came I 
 said to myself: to-day his name shall not 
 be mentioned. Then we started talking 
 heavily and laboriously, or with forced
 
 144 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 gaiety ; we talked about wind and weather, 
 about friends and acquaintances his 
 name sounded in my ears, his name stood 
 in Erik's eyes, was on his lips. It was 
 hopeless to flutter any longer; suddenly 
 the name was mentioned, the flame had 
 caught us. And once again the misera- 
 ble comedy was played. Erik, who un- 
 derstood nothing, and acted like a blind 
 man, defended his friend, while I attacked 
 him. No, it was quite unbearable. For- 
 tunately it is all over now. 
 
 It happened this morning. Erik knew 
 that to-day mother would go to church 
 alone. I heard the bell ring. It was he. 
 
 He was pale, yet very hot, and sat wip- 
 ing the perspiration from his face. We 
 had exchanged some commonplaces, when 
 he said (I sat by the window, he near the 
 round table in the middle of the room), 
 'Do oblige me, Julie, by moving over here. 
 I have something to talk to you about/ 
 
 'And can't you do that from a dis- 
 tance?'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 145 
 
 'No, be a dear, and do as I ask you.' I 
 sat down near him, and there was a pause. 
 I believe we were both feeling equally ill 
 at ease. 
 
 He took my hand, it was as cold as ice, 
 while his was moist and trembling. He 
 looked at me seriously and tenderly, and 
 said in a quiet voice, 'I have come, Julie, 
 to ask you if you will be my wife?' 
 
 The question came so suddenly, and was 
 so unexpected, that I could not imme- 
 diately find an answer. 
 
 He continued: 'You see, I cannot 
 stand this any longer. I have waited 
 and waited because I did not dare to ask. 
 It seemed to me that there was hope as 
 long as I had no answer. But now I must 
 have certainty. Whatever the answer is, 
 it will be better for me than the suspense 
 and anxiety of the past weeks. You must 
 answer me quite frankly; that, Julie, is 
 the only thing I demand of you. Will 
 you be my wife?' 
 
 I had regained my composure, and I
 
 146 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 answered as kindly as I could, but quite 
 firmly. 'Did you really need to ask, Erik. 
 I hardly think so. No, Erik, I cannot be 
 your wife.' 
 
 He let my hand go, and sat some mo- 
 ments in deep thought before saying, 'But 
 last winter, Julie, when I wrote that I was 
 coming back ?' 
 
 'Yes, Erik, then it was different.' 
 
 He stood up. 'Well, then it is as I 
 thought. I won't ask. You owe me no 
 explanations. Perhaps I even prefer to 
 know nothing. And now, good-bye, lit- 
 tle foster-sister. I hope you will be very 
 happy.' 
 
 He bent over me and I felt his lips on 
 my forehead, and while I sat there with- 
 out moving, I heard the door bang after 
 him. 
 
 Later, of course, I wept many bitter 
 tears. Yet I felt relieved. It seemed to 
 me as if a black cloud had rolled away 
 from my sky, as if a heavy burden had 
 fallen from my mind.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 147 
 
 Erik has left. I shall no longer meet 
 his sad eyes like an evil conscience. And 
 I can again think of him with kindness 
 and love. I have never seen him so hand- 
 some and manly as when he stood up to 
 go, after having had his answer. No 
 tears, no reproaches, no anger in his eyes, 
 only a gentle, sad, understanding smile. 
 
 How far prouder and better men are 
 than we women-folk. 
 
 4 th OF APEIL. 
 
 T I THERE is a photograph standing 
 JL amongst many others on his writ- 
 ing-table. I hate that photo. It repre- 
 sents a young woman with large dark 
 eyes, which look as if they reflected a 
 dream of love and kisses. I dare say they 
 are very beautiful, but they make a hor- 
 rid impression on me. 
 
 Every time I have been to see him, I 
 have longed to ask him who she is. Yet 
 I have never done it.
 
 148 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 But to-night I suddenly found out. 
 He had left the room, and I stood in front 
 of his desk, looking at the photo. I did 
 not know that he had come back, when I 
 suddenly heard his voice behind saying: 
 'Don't you think she is very beautiful?' 
 
 'I suppose she is.' 
 
 'Do you not know her ? She is the well- 
 known Mrs. Paula Hansen.' 
 
 Then I was entertained with a long rig- 
 marole about Mrs. Paula. It seemed as 
 though he must go on speaking about her. 
 He was an intimate friend of hers and of 
 her husband's, and until lately he had been 
 a constant visitor at her house. She was 
 so dear and charming, so clever and amus- 
 ing I have never heard him admire any- 
 body so much, and every moment he as- 
 sured me that he was 'awfully fond of 
 her.' 
 
 Suddenly in the midst of his rhapsodies 
 he asked smilingly, 'Surely you are not 
 jealous of Mrs. Hansen?' 
 
 'Why should you think that?'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 149 
 
 'Oh, because I thought you suddenly 
 became so quiet.' 
 
 Jealous, no I am not jealous I will not 
 be. But if he thinks it amuses me to hear 
 him talk a whole evening about Mrs. P. 
 H., he is very much mistaken. 
 
 In my opinion, she does not look a 
 lady, and that expression in her eyes gives 
 her something, well, what shall I call it, 
 some air of the demi-monde. 
 
 7 th OF APRIL. 
 
 TO-DAY I got into a terrible fix. 
 The large veil which I generally 
 carefully hide in my room, I left last 
 night in the pocket of my cloak, which 
 hangs in the hall. 
 
 When I came into the dining-room this 
 morning, I saw it lying on a chair. Mother 
 pointed to it and said: 'What have you 
 used that for? Where did you find it?' 
 
 I felt I grew scarlet, but answered in a 
 careless voice : 'I found it one day in the
 
 150 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 attic, and when it rained so badly last 
 night, I ... but,' I continued, as if with 
 a sudden intuition, before mother had time 
 to answer, 'if it is a sacred thing, which I 
 ought not to have touched, I am very 
 sorry.' 
 
 Mother looked quickly at me, and as she 
 left the room said, 'No, certainly not, you 
 are quite welcome to use it.' 
 
 Though ever since, I fancy, she has been 
 a little worried. 
 
 8 th OF APRIL. 
 
 IT must be either the spring which 
 makes the men silly, or that happi- 
 ness makes me different from what I have 
 ever been before. To-day there were no 
 less than eleven eleven men that sent me 
 glances. Yesterday there were five, 
 which considering it was raining did not 
 seem a bad number. I have never before 
 had men looking at me like that in the 
 street. It is something quite new to me,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 151 
 
 but probably it is part of all the other 
 strange things that have happened. I 
 admit frankly that it pleases me. Every 
 man who looks admiringly at me, gives 
 me new proof that he (the great and only 
 one) is perhaps not lying to me when he 
 says he thinks me lovely. 
 
 Evidently it amuses him too to hear of 
 the little successes I have enjoyed. But 
 when last time I told him that such a nice 
 man had looked at me four days running, 
 he said in an irritable voice, 'I do not like 
 that; promise me never to look again in 
 his direction.' 
 
 I wonder if he really meant it seri- 
 ously. Is it possible that he is just a little 
 jealous? How perfectly wonderful, how 
 maddeningly delightful. 
 
 9 th OF APRIL. 
 
 YES, I am happy, so happy that I 
 become dissatisfied. But when I 
 know that even the sun has spots, there
 
 152 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 is not much reason to grumble when now 
 and again a cloud passes over my sky. I 
 can think sensibly like that, when it is all 
 over and the sun is once more shining. 
 But while the cloud is there, I am less 
 heroic. 
 
 That which causes me most of my sad 
 moments is his snail-like manner of dis- 
 appearing into himself. It seems as though 
 he is afraid of coming out too much, of 
 mentally getting too close to me. 
 
 Suddenly as we sit happily and cosily 
 together he disappears, and there is only 
 left a reserved and guarded cavalier. 
 
 In these moments it seems like a hun- 
 dred miles lay between us. Our hands, 
 which have clasped each other's warmly 
 and firmly, slip limply down, and I don't 
 recognise his face and voice any longer. 
 I dream I am with my lover, I wake up 
 to find by my side a stranger who talks 
 to me with forced politeness. 
 
 If I dared only ask him why he is like 
 that. Does he fear that he is intriguing
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 153 
 
 against him. If it was not that I don't 
 like even to hint at such a thing, I should 
 say to him, 'You need not be afraid, I 
 don't aspire to be your wife.' 
 
 On that point he can rest assured. I 
 have thought it all over, and I have come 
 to the conclusion that even if he should 
 propose it, I would refuse to marry him. 
 It would be the greatest pity for us both. 
 Freedom is for him an absolutely neces- 
 sary condition of life, and I would suffer 
 too much in feeling myself a drag on his 
 foot. I dare not think of the time when 
 it will all be over. When I think that 
 every happy day that is given me is a step 
 nearer that great, dark Nirvana then my 
 soul shudders with nameless terror. And 
 yet he is right. Our love is not a vegeta- 
 ble to be used for household needs. Our 
 love is a plant with lovely flowers and 
 sweet scent. It dies quickly because its 
 life has been too vivid. 
 
 Our love. Has he ever used the word? 
 No, never, just as he has never said I love
 
 154 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 you. Of course I know that words are 
 not everything. He can love me very 
 dearly even though he does not say so, 
 his protestations would be no proof, if 
 they were all I had. 
 
 He calls me child. But when he takes 
 my head in his hands, looks deep into my 
 eyes and says, 'You darling child!' why 
 will he not understand that the child is 
 longing to hear the blessed words which 
 in dreams and poems are promised to 
 every loving child. I wonder is it caution 
 which prevents you, my wise friend, from 
 saying the words I in joyful happiness 
 give you, whenever you wish. I won- 
 der! for how can such caution be allied 
 to what you told me last night. I stood 
 in front of the mirror and saw behind me 
 your glance, which rested on me with the 
 utmost uncautious tenderness; and while 
 you laid your arm round me, you said the 
 curiously mysterious words, 'And there 
 was a foam of white doves around her.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 155 
 
 When I looked questioningly at you, you 
 continued : 
 
 'It is a poem which has sung within me 
 from my childhood, and they are the 
 words there are no others to a scene I 
 once saw. It was a summer morning in 
 the country, in a big yard bathed in sun- 
 shine stood a young girl never before 
 had I seen anything so lovely in a blue 
 dress with a little basket in her hands. 
 She took a handful of peas out of the 
 basket, and at the same moment the air 
 around her was like white foam. From 
 all the buildings round the yard the doves 
 flew towards her. They perched on her 
 head, her shoulders, arms and hips, she 
 seemed as though clothed in them. For 
 my childish fancy it looked like a fairy- 
 land picture. To me she was Princess 
 Snowwhite herself. But since then the 
 picture has shaped itself into a revelation 
 of pure, frank, living virginity, and this 
 revelation I hold to-day in my arms.'
 
 156 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 I wonder if after telling me this you 
 would have committed a great indiscre- 
 tion by adding, 'I love you.' But if you 
 are afraid of spoiling the child, and mak- 
 ing her too conceited, why did you let your 
 white doves foam about her? 
 
 11 th OF APRIL. 
 
 I AM glad I was allowed to be with 
 him for a short time to-night. To- 
 morrow he is going to play a new part 
 which has cost him much thought and 
 study. So as not to interrupt him, I 
 only stayed with him for an hour. He 
 came straight from the dress rehearsal, 
 and was in excellent spirits. The only 
 one of his colleagues in whom he has con- 
 fidence, and whose criticism he values, had 
 congratulated him on his acting. 
 
 It is very seldom that he speaks of him- 
 self as an actor. But to-night I could 
 feel he wished to open his heart to some 
 one, and I believe he was glad I was with
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 157 
 
 him. I sat quietly and enjoyed him, en- 
 joyed seeing this otherwise so self -con- 
 trolled creature in such a whirl of excite- 
 ment. Suddenly he looked at me and 
 broke off in the middle of some passionate 
 words, laughed and said, 'You looked 
 quite alarmed, I suppose you think I have 
 gone mad.' Shortly after he added, 'You 
 see, I'll confess what I suppose you have 
 already guessed, I am not at all such a 
 cold-blooded fellow as I pretend to be. 
 It is,' and he smiled, 'altogether a pose. 
 In reality I am one of the most fanatical 
 creatures alive, but I have realised that in 
 every way one produces greater effect by 
 allowing the volcano to be more suspected 
 than seen, its hidden lava stream should 
 heat the earth, but only occasionally sur- 
 prise by a little eruption.' Again he grew 
 serious. 'Perhaps, after all, I am not so 
 calculating. But what does that matter. 
 It is the lava stream which makes me an 
 artist. It is that which ought to make me 
 a better actor than the others who either
 
 158 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 rattle along to the full jingle of bells, or 
 trundle along in respectable mediocrity, 
 both being equally uninteresting, because 
 both are lacking in the subtle, the mysteri- 
 ous and fascinating element which we call 
 poetry.' 
 
 'You are not a wee bit conceited?' I 
 asked not so maliciously that he could 
 not easily understand that in me at all 
 events he had an admiring audience. 
 
 'Yes,' he answered, and knelt before 
 me, 'I am conceited, even very conceited. 
 But do you know why? Because I have 
 got you, it is you who have taught me to 
 act my part well.' 
 
 'Then it is really I who ought to be con- 
 ceited.' 
 
 'I am hoping that I shall make you feel 
 so to-morrow night, or at any rate a little 
 bit pleased.' 
 
 Of course I am going to the theatre to- 
 morrow. Unfortunately I am going with 
 Emmy, whose chatter is sure to ruin half 
 my pleasure. But there is no other way.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 159 
 
 I did not dare to accept a ticket from him, 
 so I got Emmy to invite me as a birthday 
 present in advance. 
 
 12 th OF APRIL. 
 
 TO-NIGHT so many different im- 
 pressions passed through my mind, 
 that I find it difficult to describe them. 
 
 I must start with the beginning. On 
 the way to the theatre Emmy entertained 
 me with stories about him and Mrs. Paula 
 Hansen. Had I not heard that they are 
 in love with each other? Everybody 
 (Emmy always speaks for everybody) 
 talks about it. 
 
 I had made up my mind not to be in- 
 fluenced by Emmy's gossip. Just as 
 Catholics, to keep evil thoughts away, say 
 their rosaries, I continued to think of his 
 face when he looks lovingly at me, and 
 repeated to myself his dearest words. Yet 
 I did not altogether escape the tempter. 
 While Emmy dropped her poisonous
 
 160 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 words into my ears, doubt and despair 
 triumphantly raised their heads in my 
 soul: What do you really know about 
 him? You fool, who trust so implicitly 
 in one you do not know? His face seemed 
 to change in my thoughts, and grew stiff 
 and cold. His words sounded mockingly. 
 I heard him say with a malicious laugh, 
 'She is beautiful, isn't she?' 
 
 When we reached the theatre, I should 
 have liked to have run away. To have 
 run away from it all, from life which is 
 so difficult to disentangle, from the people 
 who make life still harder for each other. 
 
 I found myself sitting in the theatre 
 in the midst of the buzzing crowd. I 
 heard laughter and light chatter from 
 people who had come there to kill a few 
 hours, and to me it seemed revolting that 
 he should give his art to this unintelligent, 
 heartless mob. 
 
 Then I heard suddenly Emmy whisper, 
 'Here she is!' I followed the direction 
 of her glance, and saw on the front row
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 161 
 
 of the dress circle a lady whom I recog- 
 nized from the photograph as Mrs. Paula 
 Hansen. 
 
 Yes, she is beautiful. Not with regu- 
 lar beauty, but she has wonderful eyes, 
 and there is a curious charm about her re- 
 fined and graceful personality. 
 
 I don't know why, but I felt at once 
 great sympathy for her. As she sat lean- 
 ing back in her seat without noticing the 
 people round her, there was an expression 
 of thoughtful sadness about her which 
 touched me. 
 
 I could not take my eyes off her. I 
 felt a curious longing within me a long- 
 ing to know her, to go up and kiss her, and 
 say: 'Can't we be friends; we two?' 
 
 Then this feeling was dispelled by 
 Emmy whispering: 'Heaven knows how 
 many women friends he has in the theatre 
 to-night . . .' The music started and 
 everybody was silent. Now, in a moment, 
 it would begin; scarcely had the thought 
 crossed my mind before a terror gripped
 
 162 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 my heart, and I felt as if I should faint. 
 With moist hands I squeezed my hand- 
 kerchief, and I answered Emmy's ques- 
 tions quite senselessly. 
 
 The curtain had risen. I saw figures 
 moving about behind the footlights. I 
 heard talking, and round me people 
 laughing and clapping. I believe I 
 laughed myself, but I don't know why. I 
 sat like one paralysed. 
 
 Then suddenly it was as if some one 
 called me. A veil fell from my eyes, a 
 warm stream ran through my veins. He 
 stood there on the stage and spoke. Was 
 it hallucination? Did I sit in his room, 
 and was it to me he spoke? I had to 
 pinch my arm to be quite awake and un- 
 derstand that I was really in the theatre, 
 and saw my own love-story being enacted ; 
 heard all the melodies which had been 
 softly murmured to me, entoned in rich 
 beauty from the stage. 
 
 An involuntary shame and fear seized 
 me. The blood shot up in my cheeks. I
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 163 
 
 glanced at Emmy and at the other spec- 
 tators to see if they had discovered any- 
 thing. 
 
 Then I laughed off my silly fear, and 
 sank back into happy enjoyment. I was 
 so glad and proud that the tears rolled 
 down my cheeks; I forgot everybody and 
 everything around me until the curtain 
 fell. The lights were turned up. I heard 
 the applause, and Emmy, who laughingly 
 said: 'But what in the world are you 
 howling for? I didn't see anything sad in 
 it'; and she added, 'but I must say he 
 played wonderfully,' which made Emmy 
 go up in my respect. 
 
 In the entr'acte I looked up to Mrs. 
 Paula's seat. She sat now glancing curi- 
 ously about her, as if there was somebody 
 she was specially looking for. Suddenly 
 our eyes met, and I seemed to see a dark 
 flash in hers. Later on during the even- 
 ing I noticed several times that her opera- 
 glasses were on me. I wonder does she 
 know me? Does she suspect anything?
 
 164 JULIE'S DIARY . 
 
 could he have oh no, that is impossible. 
 Yet her glances made me anxious, and 
 during the last part of the performance 
 I had a curious feeling of being watched. 
 
 Then the play was over and we stood in 
 the hall getting our cloaks ; I asked Emmy 
 not to hurry too much, I wanted to wait 
 as long as possible to catch some of the 
 words of praise which people said about 
 him. Everybody seemed astonished at his 
 excellent acting, and I heard somebody 
 say : 'Now his fortune is made, he has at 
 last shown that he has great talent.* 
 
 Now. Why now? Only I knew the 
 reason, and if you, my dearest one, had 
 seen how high I held my head you would 
 have had occasion to pinch my ear, and call 
 me a conceited little goose. 
 
 As we were leaving the theatre we ran 
 against Erik. He was radiant about his 
 friend's success, and said: 'Now, I hope 
 you admit that there is something in him 
 after all.' He told me also that he was 
 going away again very soon. At present
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 165 
 
 he had given up all idea of starting for 
 himself. Poor Erik. 
 
 Emmy wanted me to come with her and 
 have a cup of tea, but I dreaded too much 
 her expansive criticism of the play and the 
 acting, so I left her and took the tram for 
 home. When I had gone a little way, I 
 got out again. I was suddenly seized by 
 an irresistible desire to see him again to- 
 night, just to see him and tell him that I 
 loved him more than ever. Of course it 
 was absurd to think I should find him at 
 home. I went to his door, it was closed. 
 There were no lights in his flat. For half 
 an hour I walked about outside his house, 
 then I was bound to go home. 
 
 But on my return home, all my conceit 
 disappeared. I sat in the tram and had 
 great difficulty to prevent myself from 
 bursting into tears, while thinking that he 
 was perhaps with her on this evening, 
 which ought to have been totally and 
 wholly mine. 
 
 I wonder, did he think of me ; was it one
 
 166 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 of my flowers he wore in his button-hole as 
 a special greeting to me. 
 
 I will believe it. I will not think of all 
 Emmy told me. 
 
 He cannot possibly have been with her 
 to-night. Even if it is not as Emmy says, 
 it seems to me, that to be with her to-night, 
 would surely be sinning against me. 
 
 13 th OF APRIL. 
 
 TO-DAY I bought all the papers. 
 They are full of praise. In one of 
 them they even speak of 'quite astonishing 
 improvement.' Only one of the whole lot 
 is not complimentary. They say 'that he 
 was dull and impudent as usual,' and this 
 time also drowned in affectation. I won- 
 der what idiot writes for this paper. I 
 should love to see him hacked into pieces 
 and dished up as a 'terrible accident' in his 
 own paper. But what does it matter 
 what one absurd person writes when 
 everybody else is enthusiastic. The play
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 167 
 
 was done again last night, alas! I could 
 not be in the theatre, but I was outside 
 when the box-office opened there was a 
 big queue, and again after the perform- 
 ance I stood in the hall, wearing my veil 
 of course, and let people crush past me. 
 I heard his name mentioned a hundred 
 times, and I went home, saying it over to 
 myself a thousand times before I fell 
 asleep. 
 
 
 
 What have all the others been to him? 
 Why have none of them been able to 
 inspire him? If he has cared as much for 
 any of them as he cares for me, why was 
 it left for me to light the torch of his suc- 
 cess? 
 
 I ask myself all these questions, but I 
 dare not say aloud the answer, which 
 sings in my soul like a hymn of victory. 
 
 I dare not for fear of deceiving myself, 
 and yet, how is it possible there can be any 
 other answer than the one which is ju- 
 bilant within me. It is me he loves ; I am
 
 168 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 the only one he has loved. The only one ! 
 I fancy that men take love in a differ- 
 ent way from we women. They can have 
 scores of love-stories, but they mean very 
 little ; each one is like a passing wind which 
 only for a moment ripples the surface of 
 their being. But then suddenly comes the 
 great love, which raises a storm in their 
 souls a storm which revolutionises and 
 brings all that is deepest and best to the 
 surface. Then they have strength and 
 enthusiasm to achieve their life's great 
 victory. 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 AT last I have seen him again. 
 I meant to have said something 
 really nice to him, something sincere and 
 tender, to show my great joy in his suc- 
 cess. But all I could get out was a dry, 
 'I congratulate you; you have had a great 
 success.' He answered: 'Yes, I believe 
 I was a success ; now let me hear the only
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 169 
 
 criticism that matters, the only one that is 
 of value to me. What did you think? 
 Was it good? Was it true? Did it 
 awake memories in you? Did it touch you 
 a little bit? 
 
 I put my arms round his neck, looked 
 all my joy into his eyes, and whispered: 
 'Thank you.' But afterwards I told him 
 the same thing in many more words. 
 
 On his writing-table stood a bouquet of 
 yellow roses. The moment I saw them I 
 thought those are from her. 
 
 I became a little depressed, and he no- 
 ticed it. 'What is the matter?' he asked. 
 
 'Nothing.' 
 
 But shortly after I could not help say- 
 ing : * You have had flowers sent you. I 
 suppose they are from ' 
 
 He interrupted me. 'Come, come, 
 Julie, that is very naughty,' and he looked 
 severely and quite sadly at me. 
 
 'Yes, I have every reason to be jealous,
 
 170 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 and you must tell me who sent you those 
 flowers.' 
 
 I felt I was on the verge of tears and 
 turned away my head. He took my 
 hand, and at the same moment I burst into 
 sobs. I tried to take away my hand, but 
 he held it firmly, and went on holding it 
 without a word till I stopped crying, then 
 he said: 'Look here, little Julie. I have 
 several times before told you that you had 
 no reason to be jealous, and you have as- 
 sured me that you never were. I see now 
 that after all this is not quite true, so I 
 am going to tell you a story which will 
 prove to you how unreasonable is your 
 jealousy, and knowing what a dear, sweet 
 girl you are, I am sure you will believe 
 what I am going to tell you, even if I 
 don't mention names and details. 
 
 'Before I met you, I had a dear woman 
 friend, who came to see me just as you 
 are doing now. We were very fond of 
 each other, and I am still very fond of her. 
 You can listen to this without anger or
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 171 
 
 bitterness, for between her and me every- 
 thing is over. She is one of the best and 
 sweetest women I have ever met. She 
 has never done me anything but good, and 
 during the long time she was my friend 
 there was never a bitter word between us. 
 Our friendship was bright, gay, and de- 
 lightful ; it will always live in my memory 
 as a warm and cloudless summer day. 
 Then I met you. You came, and very 
 soon I was completely yours. You were 
 conquering youth, intoxicating spring. 
 It meant so much to you to become mine, 
 that it made love seem something new and 
 wonderful to me. You filled my life en- 
 tirely. I found it impossible to divide my 
 life between you and her. Many days 
 had not passed after our first meeting be- 
 fore she instinctively felt there was dan- 
 ger ahead. I answered her questions 
 evasively, and for the first time distrust 
 shadowed our friendship. I was so little 
 sure of myself and so fond of her that I 
 dared not venture on any explanation, an
 
 172 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 explanation which I knew would end in 
 parting. Then it happened that one 
 evening you were here perhaps you re- 
 member it is about three weeks ago. I 
 had not seen her for a fortnight; I con- 
 stantly found new excuses to avoid meet- 
 ing her. Then that evening when we two 
 were sitting together, the bell rang. I 
 did not wish to answer the bell, but as it 
 went on ringing I was obliged to go. 
 When, shortly after I returned, I told you 
 it had been a messenger from the theatre, 
 and when you noticed how serious I was, 
 I added that the message had annoyed me. 
 I even told you it was something about a 
 part I did not want to act. There was no 
 messenger, it was she. She came, driven 
 by longing and suspicion. I persuaded 
 her to go away by telling her a lie a lie 
 which I told too gladly not to further 
 arouse her suspicion. She went without 
 a word, pretending to believe me, but as I 
 did not ask her to come to see me during 
 the next few days, she sent me a letter on
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 173 
 
 the day that I was going to act my new 
 part. A letter to say good-bye. A let- 
 ter which, with all its bitter disappoint- 
 ment, was stamped with gentleness and 
 refinement of thought. The preceding 
 evening you remember you paid me a 
 little visit she had been outside the house, 
 and saw you coming and going. Well, it 
 was this I wanted to tell you, and now 
 judge for yourself if you have reason to 
 be jealous. Even if the flowers are a 
 greeting from her a thing I don't know, 
 for they were sent anonymously do you 
 really think it ought to cause you any un- 
 easiness?' 
 
 This was his story; but long before it 
 was finished I lay in his arms, asking him 
 in my heart for forgiveness. 
 
 Yet, it was very unlucky that the even- 
 ing she saw me I had gone out without my 
 veil.
 
 174 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 EASTER DAY, 17 th OF APRIL. 
 
 1DO not in the least understand Papa. 
 If it did not sound too ridiculous I 
 should be tempted to think that the cross 
 Professor Dry-fish had fallen a little bit 
 in love with his own daughter. 
 
 But at any rate it is quite true that he 
 has become much nicer to me. Every 
 time he has looked at me during the last 
 week, he has with praiseworthy efforts 
 tried to pull his face into a smile, pinched 
 my cheek, and in other ways had little 
 jokes with me. 
 
 But the most wonderful thing hap- 
 pened yesterday. At lunch mother said 
 that she had a bad cold and did not wish 
 to go out. 'In that case/ said father, 
 'Julie will perhaps go with me to the ex- 
 hibition.' 
 
 It was quite a little feast my gallant 
 papa arranged for me. It was lovely 
 weather, and father proposed that we 
 should drive to town in an open cab. We 
 spent about an hour at the exhibition, and
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 175 
 
 father was very much occupied in intro- 
 ducing me to all the different artists we 
 met. Afterwards we went into a Porta's 
 restaurant, which father from old habit al- 
 ways calls 'Minnie's/ and there we drank 
 port. While we sat dissipating in this 
 way, father said suddenly : 'Do you know, 
 Julie, it strikes me that your clothes need 
 a little smartening up, and as I am rather 
 flush just at present I think we will do a 
 little shopping together, and try to make 
 my little girl look nice for the summer.' 
 
 We went to draper and to milliner, to 
 glover and to shoemaker. Everywhere 
 father made a terrible fuss before we 
 found what he thought really suited me. 
 Finally, he insisted on giving me two pairs 
 of silk stockings, but when I remonstrated 
 and said that mother would not like it, he 
 gave up this extravagance. 
 
 In a really jolly mood we drove home. 
 When we got into the hall, I said : 'Thank 
 you so much, father dear, I have enjoyed 
 myself immensely/ And he said, 'Now,
 
 176 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 am I not going to have a kiss for thanks?' 
 Which I gave him. But in the sitting- 
 room the atmosphere was heavy and sad 
 as usual, and mother lay on the sofa ill and 
 depressed. 
 
 23 rd OF APRIL (MY BIRTHDAY). 
 
 I HAVE turned the first corner. On 
 this point I suppose I ought to 
 philosophise in good old spinster fashion, 
 and fill a couple of pages of my diary. 
 But I am not the least bit in the mood for 
 philosophy. What I most want to do is 
 to dance and laugh, and laugh and dance, 
 and wake the sleeping town with the glad 
 tidings that there is one happy human 
 creature in the world, that is to say this un- 
 dersigned, this Julie, who has to-day, in 
 spite of her great age, celebrated her 
 birthday like a spoilt baby. 
 
 When I think of how my birthdays 
 year after year have usually passed, I can 
 hardly believe this one has been real. This
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 177 
 
 is the usual birthday programme. The 
 recipient of honours is awakened by 
 mama, who to be quite sure of striking the 
 right note at once, has her eyes full of 
 tears. 'Good morning, my darling child, 
 and many happy returns of the day. 
 Father and I give you material for a new 
 summer frock, which you badly need, and 
 grandmama has sent you money to pay 
 for the making.' At lunch, a forced sense 
 of gaiety prevails. During the afternoon 
 I receive calls from Christiane, Emmy, 
 and various aunts, who all bring charming 
 gifts of home industry and a lot of silly 
 chat, in return for which they receive a 
 cup of sleep-producing chocolate. After 
 this the festivities are really over, and the 
 day closes with an extra tear-stained duet 
 between the birthday child and her mother, 
 who asks forgiveness for having brought 
 her into this world full of misery. 
 
 But to-day the birthday music has had 
 a different note. This was due, primarily, 
 to the change in papa, who at lunch
 
 178 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 showed a joy of life and an extravagance 
 about wine which made Frantz quite 
 giddy and expansive, and even tempted 
 mother to a liveliness which was almost 
 funny, but which suited her charmingly; 
 it was as if she were shy of her own gaiety. 
 
 In contradiction to his usual habits and 
 to the bewilderment of the aunts, father 
 honoured the chocolate feast by his pres- 
 ence, and by joking in quite unseemly 
 fashion with his old relatives. 
 
 After this I dressed myself in my very 
 best officially to take part in a young 
 folks' dinner at Christiane's, in other 
 words to celebrate my birthday with him. 
 
 He received me most solemnly in even- 
 ing dress, offered me his arm, and led me 
 into the sitting-room. In the midst of the 
 room stood a white-covered birthday table, 
 bending under the weight to use a good 
 newspaper phrase of presents, lovely 
 things for the toilets, sweets, and flowers. 
 
 He had on his word of honour promised 
 not to give me anything. Now he stood
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 179 
 
 behind and laughed over his lost honour 
 and my half -feigned anger. 
 
 The birthday child had been allowed to 
 choose her own dinner. He had forced 
 me to choose several extravagant dishes 
 by threatening me with chops and rice- 
 pudding. On the whole he turns me into 
 a horrid gourmand. He has for instance 
 taught me that there is a difference in 
 champagne. Before, I always thought 
 that champagne was champagne, and that 
 finished the question. While now I know 
 that there is sweet and dry and extra dry, 
 and that champagne is sometimes called 
 Mumm, sometimes Heidseick, and heaps 
 of other names ; now I even know the kind 
 I like best, which he says is a great prog- 
 ress in my education. 
 
 But one thing is certain, one should not 
 despise good food and wine. There is 
 great poetry in eating and drinking choice 
 things. Even if I would be content to 
 eat stewed cabbage with him, I cannot 
 deny that I enjoyed very much his deli-
 
 180 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 cious food, the prettily laid table, and our 
 festive clothes. 
 
 When we had reached the ice, I asked 
 him if he did not intend to make me a 
 speech. He answered: 'The speech is in 
 your bouquet.' 
 
 'Am I to be satisfied with a speech in 
 flower-language ?' 
 
 'Seek and thou shalt find.' 
 
 I took up the bouquet and out fell a 
 piece of paper. He looked quite shy 
 when he said: 'You have even made me 
 attempt poetry. Though as a saving 
 grace I must add, that I have not com- 
 mitted the crime of verse/ 
 
 I was going to open the paper, but he 
 asked me to wait. I was not allowed to 
 read the speech till we were having our 
 coffee in the other room. He asked if I 
 liked it. I answered him, what I really 
 felt, that he was the most wonderful poet 
 in the world. 
 
 Which I think he is, for he is my poet.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 181 
 
 As a finish to my report of the day, I 
 place his speech in my diary. 
 
 THE SPEECH FOR JULIE 
 
 'I need not tell you that I love you. 
 
 'You see that in my eyes when I hold 
 you in my arms, you hear that in my voice 
 when I kiss your ears. 
 
 'But I will tell you why you have so 
 completely bewitched me. It is because 
 you came to me like Eve, the mother of 
 humanity, came to Adam, like the newly- 
 born woman in trembling expectation and 
 promise, the amazing and the amazed. 
 
 'I can already see you, at these words, 
 peep at me inquiringly, and a little con- 
 fused. Just like that did Eve look at 
 Adam when they met, and he for the first 
 time let sky and earth hear those new and 
 bewildering words: I love you. 
 
 'Just as you are now, bending your head 
 and listening with something at the same 
 time shy and radiant in your eyes, thus
 
 182 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 was Eve as a living young maiden before 
 she encircled her lions with the sophisti- 
 cated fig-leaves of experienced matron- 
 hood. . . . Look, the earth is wrapped 
 in grey mist, and Adam is tired of the life 
 which was given him. 
 
 'A sun-ray pierces the clouds and the 
 mist is dispelled. There she stands, 
 bringing sunshine and warmth; man's 
 young bride, the woman, who blushes, not 
 because she is ashamed of her own naked- 
 ness, but because she wonders and re- 
 joices at her own power and grace, which 
 she sees in Adam's adoring eyes. 
 
 'She glides towards him, surrounded by 
 Cupids. They gambol in her hair, whis- 
 per little jokes into her eager ears. They 
 curve her lips into a cupid's bow, they 
 swing on her delicate bosom. One hides 
 in the dimple on her cheek, another in the 
 cleft of her chin. They sit in loving 
 couples in her sweet eyes. You, my Eve, 
 who called me to a new morn, who every 
 time you enter my door seem to me to be
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 183 
 
 the sun-ray which pierces the mist of all 
 m y g re y thoughts.' 
 
 24 th OF APRIL. 
 
 I AM glad I am twenty years old, for 
 then I have known him two years, 
 when I was nineteen and now that I am 
 twenty. But such nonsense I don't tell 
 him, for he would only laugh and call me 
 a baby, and that would be most improper 
 for a lady of twenty. 
 
 25 th OF APRIL. 
 
 I WAS at home alone this afternoon. 
 Suddenly I was startled out of my- 
 self by a violent ringing of the bell which 
 made me tremble with fear. 
 
 The letter was for mother; I put it on 
 the table and sat down again in the win- 
 dow. But I could not recover my peace- 
 ful frame of mind. The violent ringing 
 still sounded in my ears, and seemed to
 
 184 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 say: There is danger ahead. I told my- 
 self I was silly and nervous, of course the 
 postman had been in a hurry and pulled 
 the bell too vigorously. I wondered from 
 whom the letter could be ; I did not know 
 the handwriting. I went over and looked 
 at it. It was an old-fashioned, long and 
 narrow, envelope, and the writing wan- 
 dered up and down in big, clumsy letters. 
 There was a mistake in the spelling. 
 Who in the world could it be from? I 
 knew the handwriting on all the letters 
 mother generally got. 
 
 I wonder, could it be from grand- 
 mother's old maid, saying that she was ill? 
 No, that was not very likely, we should 
 have had a message and not a letter. 
 
 But from whom could it be? Suddenly 
 like a shriek the thought went through me ; 
 the letter is about me; it is an anonymous 
 letter about me ; I began to tremble again, 
 so that I could hardly hold the letter in 
 my icy cold hands. Of course that was 
 what it was. It was quite obvious, the
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 185 
 
 writing was disguised, and the sender had 
 wilfully made a mistake in the spelling. 
 Could it be from her? She had seen me 
 go up to his flat? No, he said she was 
 sweet and good. Still, when people are 
 jealous, they often do things they would 
 scorn at another time. Of course, it 
 might be from lots of other people. How 
 did I know that I had not been seen and 
 recognised heaps of times when I visited 
 him. 
 
 In that case I was lost. Mother would 
 soon be back, find the letter and read it, 
 and I should see her despairing eyes, see 
 her sway and fall. 
 
 No, I must know what there was in that 
 letter. I held it up against the light. I 
 could see nothing. With a pin I tried to 
 open it carefully. It was too firmly 
 closed. Then I lost my senses completely, 
 and I tore open the envelope, and with a 
 sigh of deliverance, exhausted by anxiety, 
 happy, but ashamed of myself, I sank into 
 a chair with the terrible letter in my hand.
 
 186 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 It was an advertisement from a new laun- 
 dry in the Old King's Road. 
 
 Now that it is over I can laugh. But, 
 all the same, he little knows what a price 
 I pay for my happiness. 
 
 1 st OF MAY (SUNDAY). 
 most awful day in my life. 
 JL I ought to have gone to church with 
 mother, but I paid grandmother a visit in- 
 stead. On my way I passed his window. 
 He was not up yet. The windows were 
 still closed in his bedroom and the curtains 
 were drawn over one of them. I wished 
 that I could have run up to him, shaken 
 him and teased him, till he was wide awake. 
 It was a horrid cold spring morning 
 with drizzle and fog. People hurried 
 along to church, looking cross and hiding 
 themselves in ugly rain-cloaks. They cer- 
 tainly looked as if they needed all the com- 
 fort their religion could give them, while
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 187 
 
 in my heart there was Sabbath without 
 church. 
 
 Grandmother, already in full trim, 
 wearing her Sunday cap, sat propped up 
 amongst her pillows. In the window sat 
 old Marie with her knitting, reading the 
 paper. How peaceful everything looked, 
 like a quiet cosy convent church with in- 
 cense and pot-pourri. 
 
 Grandmother patted my hand with her 
 dry, wrinkled old hands. I could see in 
 her eyes that a gift lay within them; but 
 grandmother is not of the garrulous sort. 
 She started: 'I don't think the weather is 
 very nice to-day/ Then again, a little 
 later, 'I should not think many people 
 would go to the woods to-day.' At last, 
 ' I wonder if Julie would like to go to 
 the theatre to-night?' Of course Julie 
 would like it very much, and she knew also 
 which theatre she would choose, for my 
 play was on to-night. 
 
 'But have you not already seen that 
 play?' asked grandmama.
 
 188 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 'Yes, but I should simply love to see it 
 again.' 
 
 'Another actor is playing in it to-night,' 
 said Marie from the window. 'They say 
 in the paper that Morch is ill.' 
 
 I don't think I shrieked. I only re- 
 member that I stood with the paper near 
 the window, that I suddenly heard Marie 
 exclaim, 'But, good heavens, Miss!' that 
 the room turned round with me, and that 
 I heard grandmama's voice far away, say- 
 ing, 'Poor child, poor child!' and that I 
 found myself in the easy-chair, a basin 
 with water at my side, while Marie held a 
 smelling-bottle under my nose. I looked 
 with astonished eyes from Marie to grand- 
 mama. What in the world had happened? 
 At the same moment the memory and the 
 terror came back to my mind, and if Marie 
 had not had a firm grip on my arm, so 
 that she hurt me, I think I should have 
 fallen again. 
 
 My first thought was, 'What am I go- 
 ing to say to grandmama?' I pretended
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 189 
 
 that I was only slowly coining back to 
 consciousness, so that to regain time for 
 reflection. 
 
 'Have you had anything to eat this 
 morning?' she asked. 
 
 'No, grandmama.' 
 
 'I thought not. But that is very wrong 
 of you, Julie. It is not good for young 
 girls to go out without a proper breakfast. 
 Fetch a glass of wine, Marie.' 
 
 When we were alone grandmama called 
 me to her. I knelt down in front of her, 
 hid my head in her lap, bursting into tears. 
 I tried to control myself, but I simply 
 could not stop. Marie brought in the 
 wine. I heard her come and go, but I 
 went on sobbing, while grandmama softly 
 stroked my hair. After all it was good to 
 weep one's sorrow out, and blessedly com- 
 forting to feel grandmama's gentle hand 
 on my head. 
 
 'Well, well, my dear child,' she repeated, 
 while the weeping grew more quiet. But 
 I still kept my head in her lap, not daring
 
 190 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 to meet her eyes. Yet the thought tor- 
 tured me, that I had to get away, get to 
 him to find out the truth. 
 
 Then grandmama said, and I shall 
 never forget the unspeakable gentleness in 
 her voice. 'You need not fear any ques- 
 tion, darling. I am only an old woman, 
 but I remember my youth, and I know 
 that young hearts may have joys and sor- 
 rows which old hands should not touch. 
 But should life which God forbid 
 bring my little girl into some entangle- 
 ment she cannot escape, as long as I am 
 alive, she can always come to me. And 
 now, get up, child, and run away, so as not 
 to keep them waiting lunch for you. We 
 need not say anything to father and 
 mother about what has happened to-day, 
 and the theatre ticket we will keep for an- 
 other day. To-night it will be wiser for 
 you to get early to bed.' 
 
 I stood outside his door. I had rushed 
 through the streets, but now that I was 
 here I dared not ring. As soon as I en-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 191 
 
 tered the house I seemed to feel the heavy 
 air of a sick-room, and here, outside the 
 door, a sweet, oppressive air crept over 
 me with a curious, choking sensation. 
 When I ring the bell the door will open, 
 and pale and weeping the maid will stand 
 before me. I shall not need to ask any 
 questions. God in heaven, you could not, 
 could not be so cruel. I began to pray, 
 'Our Father, which art in heaven . . .' 
 No, no, not now God will only be angry 
 and punish me, because I, who never think 
 of Him otherwise, come to Him out of 
 sheer cowardice. I rang the bell; its 
 muffled, soundless ringing startled me. 
 Of course I said to myself, I even think 
 I smiled of course they have tied some- 
 thing round the bell so that it shall not dis- 
 turb him. 
 
 Steps sounded within, and the door was 
 opened by a stranger, a tall, commanding- 
 looking woman. She said I think be- 
 fore I had asked I suppose she guessed 
 my errand. 'Mr. Morch is very ill.' God
 
 192 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 be praised, he still lives! It was diph- 
 theria, the lady explained, and he took ill 
 the night before last. Only the day before 
 I had been with him. The doctor said it 
 was dangerous. 
 
 The lady looked as though, in her opin- 
 ion, it was time for me to go. 
 
 I asked, though I knew it was hopeless, 
 if I could be allowed to see him. 
 
 'No, Miss, that is quite impossible. 
 The doctor has forbidden all visitors. Be- 
 sides, it is contagious.' 
 
 'I don't mind that at all. If you would 
 just let me have a glimpse of him.' 
 
 The lady looked at me a little more 
 kindly. 'I am sorry, but it's quite impossi- 
 ble. Perhaps the young lady is Mr. 
 Morch's fiancee?' 
 
 The blood rushed to my face as I an- 
 swered, 'No.' 
 
 She looked astonished and asked, 'From 
 whom shall I give a message?' 
 
 'From the young lady/ 
 
 'A young lady?'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 193 
 
 'No, the young lady.' 
 
 I suppose she is now thinking the worst 
 of me, but what does that matter if he 
 only gets my greeting. 
 
 How I have lived through this day, how 
 I have been able to control myself, so that 
 no one has guessed anything, I don't 
 know. 
 
 I only know that about five or six 
 o'clock I couldn't bear to go on sitting ig- 
 norant at home. I went out Heaven 
 knows with what excuse stood again out- 
 side the house, but did not dare to go up. 
 I got hold of a messenger and sent him. 
 The condition was unchanged; perhaps 
 there was a very slight improvement. 
 
 This strange woman said I could not see 
 him. She, to whom he is just a patient 
 like all other patients, she is allowed to be 
 with him, to help him, nurse him; every 
 minute of the day she knows how he is, if 
 there is improvement and hope. While I, 
 
 M
 
 194 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 who love him, I, who would not for a mo- 
 ment hesitate to give him my life, I must 
 stand outside his door like one of the 
 crowd and receive what information she, a 
 hireling, is graciously pleased to give me. 
 She bars the door to me, she does not even 
 allow me to give him, my dearest and only 
 one, a single glance. 
 
 And so powerless am I that I must obey 
 this person, even be amiable to her to per- 
 suade her to give me the latest news. 
 
 I would gladly run away from every- 
 thing here at home. Willingly bear the 
 blame and the disgrace if I could be with 
 him, sit near his bed, and fight with death 
 for him. I have ransacked my heart, and 
 I know I would do it without a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 But I know also that he would never 
 allow it. For he does not love me as I 
 love him. His love is wise and prudent, 
 and thinks of consequences ; his love knows 
 exactly how far it should go ; it knows the 
 frontier which it never intends to pass.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 195 
 
 But my love knows no goal but him, 
 neither now nor in the future. 
 
 Therefore I must be wise and stay here ; 
 here where I have nothing to do, where 
 I am gasping like a fish on shore, because 
 the air round me holds nothing of him. 
 His name is never mentioned, and I can 
 never even hear it. To no one can I tell 
 my fear, this fear which nearly kills me, 
 because I keep it shut up within my own 
 heart. 
 
 Stay here; talk to father and mother 
 about indifferent things, while only one 
 thought is in my mind him; only one 
 word on my lips his name. 
 
 Stay here; sit quietly and nicely at 
 meals and at work, while all my desire 
 drags me to his bed. 
 
 To think that he could be ill and die, 
 and that I should never hear of it, except 
 through a notice in the papers. Die be- 
 fore I could say the last farewell, before 
 I could give him a word or a glance.
 
 196 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 So poverty-stricken, so lawless is my 
 love, so miserable its conditions. In 
 gloom and darkness it must creep along; 
 never dare to step out into the daylight 
 and demand its rights. 
 
 If you are taken from me in this night, 
 my beloved, then as surely as my poor love 
 is my only treasure I shall follow you. 
 
 But if to-morrow you wake up to life 
 and health, if the day comes that I can 
 again be with you, and you will tell me 
 that you love me, then I will laugh at all 
 my sorrows and confide to you my secret 
 that I am richer than any one else in the 
 world. 
 
 O God, that I may keep you! 
 
 2 nd OF MAY. 
 
 rTlHIS morning Christiane brought me 
 
 A the following letter addressed to her : 
 
 'My dear little girl! Did it frighten 
 
 you so terribly to read that I was ill ! But
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 197 
 
 what could I do? I dared not write di- 
 rect to you, and your friend's address I 
 have only this moment learned from your 
 letter. You dear child, who was so sorry 
 and imagined that I was going to die and 
 leave you. You have no reason to be 
 afraid, firstly evil weeds never wither, and 
 secondly because I have not yet the slight- 
 est intention of quitting life. 
 
 'It is awfully dear of you to say that in 
 spite of infection, family nonsense, etc., 
 you would come to me. But the fever has 
 not left me quite so stupid that I should 
 dream of accepting such an offer. Be- 
 sides, at the present moment I am any- 
 thing but a charming sight ; and to this add 
 that I am the Grossest and most unamiable 
 patient one can imagine. If you saw me 
 just now, I am sure I should quite ruin 
 the nice impression I otherwise may have 
 made on you. Altogether I am of the 
 opinion that sick people should not allow 
 themselves to worry the healthy ones. 
 They ought to hide themselves away with
 
 198 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 all the ugliness and the unappetising de- 
 tails of the sick-room. 
 
 'As soon as I again feel myself fit for 
 good society I will send you a message, 
 and we will then take our revenge for this 
 long parting. 
 
 'I promise you that the desire of seeing 
 you again will quickly make me well, and 
 that, in spite of wild fever dreams, I will 
 be faithful to you. 
 
 *I force all hideous fever dreams away 
 by thinking of you, and during the night 
 it seems to me you are standing near 
 my bed, holding your dear cool hand on 
 my burning forehead. Thus you are 
 though far away my nurse and my 
 healer. 
 
 'Forgive this short letter, but the least 
 exertion makes my weak head giddy. I 
 don't send you any kisses, for even in my 
 thoughts my sickness must not touch your 
 young health and beauty. I understand 
 so well the leper, who watched in wonder- 
 ment a beautiful woman pass by, and then
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 199 
 
 with humble adoration kissed the mark of 
 her footsteps in the dust. Yours, A.' 
 
 He loves flowers. Unfortunately the 
 state of my finances does not permit a very 
 great extravagance. But even if I have 
 to dig the money out of the pavement, he 
 shall, every day until we meet again, have 
 some choice flowers from me. 
 
 To-day a black-red rose amongst red 
 crocuses. Which means, all my thoughts 
 are circling like foam of white doves 
 round you, my splendid dark-eyed Sheik. 
 
 3 rd OF MAY. 
 
 A HANDFUL of gigantic mignon- 
 ettes and some forget-me-nots: I 
 come to you without splendour, but I give 
 you my love strong and passionate like the 
 scent of the mignonette. I give you my 
 trusting faithfulness like the child-eyed- 
 flower of the forget-me-not.
 
 200 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 4 th OF MAY. 
 
 VIOLETS and white moss-roses: 
 My love grows in secret, yet, it is 
 blue like the summer sky, white like the 
 winter snow. 
 
 5 th OF MAY. 
 
 ORCHIDS and young beech leaves: 
 In the sombre atmosphere of the 
 home, far from sunshine and reality, my 
 soul shaped itself into a flower pale and 
 strange. Then you came and beyond all 
 the weeds and undergrowths of the wood, 
 my soul ascended joyfully with spring's 
 glad tidings. 
 
 6 th OF MAY. 
 
 ASMOKE yellow rose, a wallflower, 
 yellow anemones! Do you re- 
 proach me that I am jealous? Don't you 
 understand that my jealousy is like a
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 201 
 
 burning flame, encircling my love with a 
 radiant halo. 
 
 7 th OF MAY. 
 
 TWO blush-roses and (what is a great 
 rarity at this time of the year) two 
 pink carnations, equally beautiful, each 
 the other's complement in colouring and 
 scent, though so different, they commingle 
 in an unrivalled meeting of love. Like 
 the rose and the carnation here meet in an 
 intoxicating kiss, thus my beloved, I shall 
 soon be again in your arms. 
 
 8 th OF MAY. 
 
 I HAVE been very horrid, and it 
 would serve me right, if he had been 
 angry with me. Yes, I wish he had been 
 angry, I would rather he had hurt me, 
 than looked at me with his tired, indulgent 
 smile. 
 
 I don't know how it happened, but from
 
 202 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 the very beginning we struck a false note, 
 and we got more and more out of tune as 
 the evening went on. Perhaps it was that 
 I had been looking forward to our meet- 
 ing, and had imagined it was going to be 
 something quite wonderful. From the 
 moment when I crept up the backstairs, so 
 that the nurse should not see me, and was 
 steered into his room and met his glance, 
 which though kind was weak and not radi- 
 ant as I had imagined, I was so childishly 
 disappointed that I was unable to say the 
 words which filled my heart. Instead I 
 only found words so strange and unnat- 
 ural that they even grated on my own ears. 
 There was no scene between us, he only 
 looked surprised at me, and we continued 
 to talk; but while the real harmony be- 
 came more and more remote, his face grew 
 nervous with a tortured and tired expres- 
 sion. At last he lay with half -closed eyes, 
 now and again wiping his forehead with 
 his pocket-handkerchief. 
 
 How could I have resisted falling on
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 203 
 
 my knees by his bed, begging his forgive- 
 ness. But instead of that I said in an of- 
 fended voice: 'I am sure you prefer me 
 to go. Of course I don't want to tire 
 you.' 
 
 He lay a moment without answer. 
 Then in his most polite and correct voice, 
 the one I call his best society voice, which 
 always seems to push me a hundred miles 
 away, he said, 'Do excuse me for not being 
 very entertaining, but I am not yet fit for 
 society, and I am afraid I ought to rest 
 now.' 
 
 It was the first time we parted without 
 arranging a new meeting. I absolutely 
 hated him when he smilingly gave me his 
 hand to say good-bye, letting me go with- 
 out telling me that I was the silliest and 
 most spoiled girl in the world, and that I 
 deserved to be whipped like a naughty 
 child. 
 
 Now I am here alone with my misery. 
 The day to which I had looked forward as 
 to no other has been ruined. What in the
 
 204 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 world is he thinking of me? A thought- 
 less, selfish girl, who is offended because 
 she does not find him as well as she ex- 
 pected. 
 
 9 th or MAY. 
 
 HOW good and how wise he is. 
 A letter from him has crossed the 
 letter I at once wrote him. 
 
 He writes: 'I was not so very well, 
 when you came yesterday, and therefore, 
 my little girl did not get the reception she 
 ought to have had, and that also prevented 
 me from thanking her for all her love dur- 
 ing this time and always. I am, as I have 
 told you before, a most disagreeable pa- 
 tient. All the same, I wonder if you can 
 manage it, will you come and see me to- 
 morrow, and please try to be a little in- 
 dulgent with me, even if I should not 
 quite have got the better of my nerves/
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 205 
 
 14 th OF MAY. 
 
 HE is almost well. For the last few 
 days he has been out of bed, and 
 yesterday he went out for a drive. 
 
 I see him every day either in the morn- 
 ing or the evening. To do this, I have 
 invented a young girl whom I meet at 
 Christiane's, and whom I am teaching to 
 paint on china. Every day I am amazed 
 I am not found out, and I am getting 
 quite reckless and go to his flat without 
 the slightest hesitation even in broad day- 
 light. 
 
 But I know that should the day come 
 that I am found out, and they forbid me 
 to see him, I shall leave home. About 
 that I have quite made up my mind, that 
 is irrevocable. Then let come what may. 
 I have said nothing to him about this, yet 
 it is he who has given me the courage to 
 take so decided a resolution. For during 
 these last days, it has become more clear to 
 me that after all his love for me is not a 
 mere passing fancy. I am trying to
 
 206 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 make myself useful to him, and I believe 
 I have succeeded and that he is beginning 
 to miss me when I am not there. I go 
 errands for him, read to him, and write 
 letters at his dictation. He calls me his 
 private secretary, and discusses all his 
 affairs with me. 
 
 In reality we are just like man and wife. 
 I come and go as if his flat were my own. 
 I look after his flowers, and when I am 
 not reading to him or have other work to 
 do, I sew initials on his table linen. Even 
 his old maid has got into the habit of ask- 
 ing my advice about what to give him for 
 dinner for monsieur is rather difficult to 
 please. 
 
 He is on the whole, I think, what one 
 calls an egoist. As a bachelor, he is ac- 
 customed to have the whole household 
 working for his comfort, and he takes it 
 as the most natural thing in the world, that 
 I, as well as the maid, think only of wait- 
 ing on him and giving him pleasure. But 
 it suits him to be a turk and he is the most
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 207 
 
 amiable tyrant. When he is resting in 
 languorous convalescence on the couch, 
 and I bring now one thing and now an- 
 other, for which he gratefully thanks me, 
 kissing my hand, it would not matter what 
 his command would be, I should, without 
 the slightest hesitation, obey it. 
 
 20 th OF MAY. 
 
 I HAVE travelled with him to fairy- 
 tale land, which is only a two hours' 
 journey from the old statue in the King's 
 Square. I don't know the real name of 
 the place, and in regard to its position, I 
 can only say that one starts driving along 
 the King's Road, and in a couple of hours 
 one is there. But on the other hand I 
 know exactly what it looks like. A white, 
 thatched cottage, on the outskirts of the 
 forest on the edge of the lake. The en- 
 trance to the house is from the wood 
 through a big open verandah covered with 
 Virginia creeper, and in the gable and f ac-
 
 208 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ing the lake is a balcony of green painted 
 wood. An old peasant woman stands in 
 the verandah courtesying. During the 
 day the sun shines from a cloudless sky, 
 and at night it is full moon. Across the 
 lake, in the moonlight, glides a white boat, 
 from which comes faint singing of young 
 voices. 
 
 I have been with him in fairy-tale land, 
 seen the sun set and the moon rise, seen 
 the sun rise again and sink behind the 
 woods, lighting with its glow the windows 
 of the white village. But to me it seems 
 that the twenty- four hours is a whole life- 
 time, where I have lived with him in a 
 world created just for us two, furnished 
 with all nature's loveliest gifts, and with 
 a dear old peasant woman-fairy to do our 
 bidding. 
 
 I pinch my arm to be sure I am not 
 dreaming. No, it is no dream. On the 
 table in front of me stands the bouquet 
 of wild flowers the old woman gave me 
 when we left, and near my bed are my
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 209 
 
 boots with the marks of field and wood 
 on them. 
 
 It happened like this : The day before 
 yesterday father and mother went to Soro 
 to visit an old aunt, who yesterday was 
 eighty years of age, and her son, who is 
 master of the large public school there. 
 They return to-morrow. When he heard 
 of this, he said, ' Then we will also go for 
 a journey/ Though at first I thought it 
 was quite impossible and took it as a joke, 
 it grew all the same into reality. After 
 all, I philosophised, if the worst comes to 
 the worst I can only be found out. I got 
 Christiane to send me an invitation for a 
 picnic to-day, with a preliminary visit to 
 her home overnight, so that we, like eager 
 young girls, might start with the dawn. 
 To this arrangement the parents gave 
 their consent and went off to the birthday 
 in Soro. 
 
 But yesterday afternoon, at six o'clock, 
 two young girls trotted along the King's 
 Road. Near the inn they were overtaken 
 
 N
 
 210 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 by a closed carriage. It stopped, the door 
 opened, one of the young girls disap- 
 peared within, and off again rolled the 
 carriage. 
 
 While Christiane turned back, prepar- 
 ing for a day of seclusion, for I had abso- 
 lutely forbidden her to show her pretty 
 face in the streets of Copenhagen he and 
 I drove on to fairyland. My question of 
 whither and wherefore he had answered 
 with these words: 'Do not worry about 
 anything, just meet me as you stand near 
 the inn. I will come with a carriage, 
 bring with me everything you are likely 
 to need, and I will carry you away to a 
 remote and very little-known country inn, 
 where an old woman serves hot water to 
 picnic parties, and occasionally, for fair 
 words and money, is ready to prepare a 
 simple country meal and a clean night's 
 lodging.' 
 
 When I had got safely into the carriage 
 and recovered my nerve a little, I could 
 not help laughing at noticing the amount
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 211 
 
 of luggage with which we started. He 
 explained that there was really no more 
 than what we absolutely needed. 'In the 
 one bag are your things ; in the other mine. 
 In the basket is the wine, and in the hold- 
 all a pillow for you and some sheets in 
 case those they give us are not properly 
 aired. I trust that you will find all there 
 ought to be.' There was indeed, and 
 more besides. 
 
 To be quite safe he pulled the curtain 
 over the window. I thought it wonder- 
 ful to sit like that, without knowing 
 whither we drove, dreaming that he and 
 I were starting on a fairy -trip out into the 
 wide world. 
 
 Then we reached fairyland. 
 
 The old woman stood in the verandah 
 and courtesied her welcome. She wore a 
 gold-embroidered cap, and a skirt of stiff 
 green homespun. She was a buxom, cosy, 
 motherly person, and called me 'madam.' 
 
 Our luggage was carried in, and the 
 coachman had orders to return next even-
 
 212 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ing at eight o'clock. We went for a walk 
 along the lake till dinner was ready. 
 
 The sun was just sinking. We saw 
 the big ball of fire disappear between the 
 trees, and watched the illumination of the 
 sky. The beech leaves shone like newly- 
 minted coins, and over the lake the fading 
 sunlight rippled like mother-o'-pearl. 
 We stood watching first the glowing 
 forest, then the shining lake. From the 
 other side of the lake sounded the chimes 
 of church bells curiously near, and yet 
 solemnly far away. From the under- 
 growth came sleepy twitters. No other 
 sounds. We stood close to each other, 
 cheek against cheek, silent, fascinated, 
 happy. 
 
 The ball of the sun had disappeared. 
 The fire in the clouds died away, a pale 
 mist blotted out the colours of the lake. 
 
 Then we heard a voice calling from the 
 cottage, and we went in went in to con- 
 tinue the fairy-tale inside the old fairy's 
 wood-hut.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 213 
 
 I only remember that the room was pa- 
 pered in blue, and that it had a sanded 
 floor ; that in the middle of the room stood 
 a table with a coarse, but shining, linen 
 cloth, and on the table two three-armed sil- 
 ver candelabras, which gave to the simple 
 room a touch of mysterious richness and 
 distinction. 
 
 And the food! How good it smelt; 
 how deliciously it tasted, and what good 
 appetites we had. Everything tasted as 
 if it came straight from Nature's kitchen, 
 the pink ham and the parsley-stuffed 
 chicken, as well as the yellow soufflet with 
 its sugar-powdered brown crust! 
 
 We were happy and unconcerned as 
 children, and the old woman fussed about, 
 while she chatted with us, saying how de- 
 lighted she was to see such happy young 
 people in her house. 
 
 When we had reached the coffee, the 
 woman asked if 'madam' would not like 
 to make it herself. I went with her into 
 the kitchen, but had to call him out at once
 
 214 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 so that he could admire all the beautiful 
 old copper things. On one shelf stood an 
 entire regiment of red tea-urns, some 
 short and fat, others slender and elegant, 
 with spouts like top-hats. 
 
 Then it was ten o'clock, and, after coun- 
 try fashion, we went to bed. 
 
 While he sat smoking his cigar, the old 
 woman led me up a creaking staircase to 
 the 'guest-room.' It was large, with low 
 ceiling, and perfumed with violets and 
 cleanliness. The furniture consisted only 
 of a washstand, some chairs and a table, 
 and the bed. But the bed was a piece of 
 splendour . . . dark, thick mahog- 
 any, with brass balls and ornaments. It 
 was heavy, large, and monumental, and a 
 canopy of faded brocade was draped 
 above it. With pride the woman told me 
 that her late husband had bought it at the 
 auction of the belongings of the old prin- 
 cess. She lit the candles, bade me good- 
 night, and went away. 
 
 I began to undress. I sat in front of
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 215 
 
 the mirror in the dressing-gown he had 
 brought. Through the balcony door a 
 moonbeam crept in across the room. I 
 stood up, opened the door the evening 
 was mild as at midsummer and went out. 
 Never have I seen anything more beauti- 
 ful. Like a shiny silver mirror the lake 
 was set in a frame of white mist, which 
 now and again broke for a moment to un- 
 veil fantastic landscapes with vividly lit 
 trees. 
 
 I heard a door open, but I did not turn. 
 I felt he was just behind me. I stood 
 in joyful expectation, breathing quick 
 drafts of balmy air. 
 
 His arm stole round my waist, his lips 
 touched my ear, and, like a breath of the 
 summer night, his voice whispered, 'My 
 dear little wife!' 
 
 In the same moment the song sounded 
 again from the lake, 'Peace falls o'er land 
 and town.' and out of the mist comes a 
 boat, leaving behind it a golden streak.
 
 216 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 I woke with the feeling that some great 
 pleasure was in store for me, and my eyes 
 were filled with sunshine. What is it? 
 Where am I? I asked myself, and 
 blinked my eyes to be wide awake. Then 
 I saw him sitting in his shirt sleeves by 
 the little table in front of the balcony 
 door, serious, and deeply occupied in shav- 
 ing. For a little while I lay quietly en- 
 joying this precious sight. He made the 
 most miserable faces, and handled the 
 razor in dangerous fashion. If he only 
 knew that I am here spying on him, after 
 he, poor man, out of sheer vanity, has got 
 up at an unearthly hour that I should not 
 see him in an unshaven condition. Ugh! 
 there he's cut himself. I laughed so that 
 I shook the bed. He turned, and, like a 
 gutter-snipe, put out his tongue, and said : 
 'Yes, you just wait till I have finished, 
 and I will give you something to laugh at, 
 you naughty girl.' 
 
 Shortly after he came to the bed, pulled 
 my nose, threatened me with a wet sponge,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 217 
 
 and was quite beside himself with merri- 
 ment, with smooth, though not un- 
 wounded cheeks. 
 
 The second day of our journey had be- 
 gun. Alas! too soon it ended. 
 
 How did we spend it? As the royal 
 children we were, playing together in our 
 kingdom, which, because it was ours, 
 seemed the most beautiful in the world. 
 We ate the food, drank the wine, which 
 seemed better and more delicious than all 
 other earthly food and wine, and we were 
 so in love with each other, that we thought 
 our earlier life counted for nothing. It 
 happened to-day, and yet it is already 
 wrapt in the faint radiance of old memory. 
 I remember our sitting down near the lake 
 having breakfast new-laid eggs, fresh 
 sourish peasant cheese and milk with thick 
 cream. I remember our standing with 
 the old woman in the yard, feeding the 
 chickens and hens, and the gallant self- 
 consciously modest rooster. I remember 
 our sauntering through the wood, and my
 
 218 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 fear at seeing in a tree an owl, which, like 
 an old witch, glared at me with her day- 
 blind eyes. 
 
 I remember at last our parting from 
 fairy-tale land, when the carriage drove 
 away from the verandah, and the old 
 woman handed me the sweet flowers and 
 said: 'God's peace and farewell, little 
 lady, and come again soon.' 
 
 Then we drove back to reality and to 
 the big town, where there are parents, and 
 sin, and sorrow, and evil consciences. 
 
 When the first tall houses came in sight 
 a horrible fear clutched my heart, and 
 when we met a removing van I thought of 
 the summer holidays, which very soon 
 would part him and me. 
 
 But when he saw that I was sad, he 
 asked: 'Is anything worrying you?' 
 Then I smiled, put both my arms round 
 his neck, looked into his eyes and said: 
 'Let me tell you to-day how much sadder 
 it is for me to part from you than ever be- 
 fore; let me tell you now that perhaps
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 219 
 
 there will be much I may have to regret 
 in my life, but never do you hear never 
 shall I regret that I have been yours.' 
 
 21 st OF MAY. 
 
 WHEN I woke up this morning I 
 seemed still to have my ears full 
 of the ringing of bells, and in vain I tried 
 to remember what I had been dreaming. 
 
 The dream itself had quite disappeared 
 from my mind, only leaving behind this 
 sound of merry bells, which pursued me 
 all day long in a curious, irritating way. 
 Like a teasing play of hobgoblins they 
 intermingled with all my thoughts. 
 
 Then, during the afternoon, as I sat 
 dreaming of my journey to fairyland, 
 dreaming all over again that I was driv- 
 ing with him to the old peasant woman's 
 cottage, the bells started again their gay 
 ringing; they sounded in time with the 
 clattering of horses' hoofs, and lo and be- 
 hold, suddenly the picture in my fancy
 
 220 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 changed, the landscape turned white and 
 wintry, the carriage became a sleigh, and 
 in the sleigh sat he and I with heavy fur- 
 coats over our wedding garments, hurry- 
 ing from the big dinner-party out to the 
 isolated country inn, where we were to 
 celebrate our wedding-feast, he and I 
 alone. 
 
 But from the wintry sky I seemed to 
 see grandmama's beautiful eyes look down 
 to me, so gently and smilingly, while the 
 bells ring through the air, 'Now is your 
 time, now is your time.' 
 
 22 nd OF MAY. 
 
 TO-DAY fortnight he leaves town. 
 He is going to Vedbaek to stay with 
 a friend. 
 
 Of course it is quite natural; he needs 
 the peace of the country, and not for a 
 moment could I imagine that he should 
 stay in town for my sake. He knows 
 that quite well, and has therefore not
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 221 
 
 thought it necessary to give me any ex- 
 planation on this subject. Yet I should 
 have been happier if he had talked it over 
 with me, giving me the occasion to tell 
 him that the very thing I like him to do is 
 to get quite well and strong in the country. 
 
 26 th OF MAY. 
 
 T \ TEt have walked through the streets 
 V V for the first time together. I had 
 said to him that to-night I was going to 
 have a look at the festive decorations in 
 his company. He frowned a little, and 
 asked if it was wise. I answered him I 
 did not care in the least. I insisted on 
 seeing all the fun with him, even if it 
 should appear in the papers afterwards. 
 But I really don't think a human soul 
 noticed us. There was such a crush, and 
 such a feeling of jolly good fellowship 
 reigned that the usual mean criticism was 
 forgotten. Besides it would have been 
 useless to demand introduction and visit-
 
 222 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ing-cards from all the arms and legs with 
 which one came in contact during the even- 
 ing. To begin with, he was not very 
 bright, and every time he recognised a 
 familiar face he tried to disappear with me 
 down streets which were not illuminated. 
 But gradually also he was seized by the 
 general feeling of belonging to one huge 
 Noah's ark, and quite recklessly we fin- 
 ished up arm-in-arm watching the fire- 
 works at Tivoli's. 
 
 30 th OF MAY. 
 
 fTlHERE have been days in which he 
 JL seems rather tired and depressed. 
 When I have said to him, that I thought 
 he was tired of seeing so much of me, he 
 has always answered that it was silly non- 
 sense. He admitted there were days, 
 when he felt nervous, without courage and 
 without spirit, and that it was impolite (a 
 word I simply hate) of him to let me feel 
 it, but that my visits were only an encour-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 223 
 
 agement and a pleasure to him. I must 
 not be angry because he was not always 
 able to control his bad moods, which were 
 partly due to his unamiable character, 
 partly to worries, in which I had no part. 
 
 I implored him to be more frank with 
 me. I would only be too happy to share 
 his sorrows, and surely he ought to know 
 that there was not a thing in the world, I 
 would not do if in any way I could help 
 him. 
 
 But when I say such things, he takes me 
 on his knee, pets me, and says that I really 
 must not take his sulkiness so seriously. 
 It does not mean anything after all, and 
 it would be better for me to pretend not to 
 notice it. 
 
 But now I know what worries him; it 
 is money. 
 
 Yesterday, as well as to-day, I felt that 
 he was very depressed and anxious. 
 When I came yesterday, he said: 'Don't 
 be angry if I ask you not to stay very 
 long, but I am expecting a man with
 
 224 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 whom I must have a business talk.' Now 
 knowing how much it meant, I fear I was 
 rather unreasonable. It had never hap- 
 pened before that he asked me to leave; I 
 thought it horrid of him, and felt vague 
 fears creeping over me. 
 
 I had not recovered when I came to- 
 day and grew still more unhappy, when 
 I found that he was still in the same bad 
 humour. 
 
 We had an extremely agreeable half 
 hour, in which the storm gathered about 
 us, his face grew more and more stiff, and 
 I more and more ready for tears. 
 
 At last the storm burst, when after a 
 lengthy pause he said in his coldest voice : 
 'I must say, this promises to be very 
 
 jolly-' 
 
 The same moment he had said it, I burst 
 into sobs, and he was by my side, begging 
 my forgiveness in the most tender words. 
 'Yes, but why are you so horrid to me, 
 what have I done to you? Are you tired 
 of me?'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 225 
 
 'No Julie, indeed I am not tired of you, 
 but I am so worried.' 
 
 'And you won't tell me the reason? 
 Why mayn't I know what worries you, 
 since I am not the cause.' 
 
 Then he told me everything. Before 
 he left town, he had to pay a large sum 
 of money, which he owed, and he did not 
 know how to get it. When in an aston- 
 ished voice I said, that I thought he was 
 rich, he answered that everybody thought 
 so, but that it was a great mistake. He 
 certainly had a little money, but it was in- 
 vested in such a way, that he could not 
 touch the capital, and during the last years 
 he had lived rather extravagantly. 
 
 'But if it is impossible for you to get the 
 money, what then?' 
 
 'Well, darling, then it is pretty bad, 
 but don't you worry. I shall get the 
 money somehow. Only it is very dis- 
 agreeable while it lasts.' 
 
 We were now sitting together on the 
 sofa, talking the matter over in a wise
 
 226 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 way, and I was soon quite happy again. 
 It seemed to me he was nearer to me than 
 ever before, now that he had confided to 
 me all these intimate worries. 
 
 But when I said to him: 'You will do 
 me a great service, if for the future you 
 will stop spending so much for my sake, 
 I don't care either for presents or for fine 
 dinners,' he kissed me and said smilingly: 
 'It is very dear of you to say that, but you 
 must not think for a moment that you 
 have ruined me. No, dear child, the little 
 you and I have spent would neither make 
 nor mar my fortune.' 
 
 Shortly after, when he offered me a 
 glass of wine, he added, 'if you think I 
 can allow myself so mad an extravagance.' 
 
 4 th OF JUNE. 
 
 I HAVE seen very little of him dur- 
 ing the last few days. He has been 
 busy with his affairs, and besides had to 
 pay a great many calls.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 227 
 
 I have been patient and tried to take 
 my fate calmly. Even when yesterday I 
 went to him in vain and instead of him- 
 self only found a few excusing words, I 
 took it bravely. 
 
 But when I realise that very soon I shall 
 see him only at rare intervals, then I dare 
 not think further ahead, I simply bend 
 my head, close my eyes, and know that 
 everything is hopeless. 
 
 He has not mentioned his money affairs 
 again. I asked him the other day how he 
 was getting on, but he passed it lightly 
 over, saying that it was sure to be all right. 
 
 30 th OF JUNE. 
 
 HE is gone. 
 I was with him during the last 
 hours ; I lunched with him and helped him 
 to pack. On my way to him, I gave my- 
 self the following little lecture: 'Now 
 be good, show him a bright and gay face,
 
 228 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 so that he can take with him a charming 
 memory of you, and above all he must 
 not, at any price, get the impression that 
 you had expected him to stay in town for 
 your sake.' 
 
 I found him busily occupied and in high 
 spirits. He chatted incessantly while he 
 wrote letters, and flew from room to room 
 collecting things he suddenly remembered 
 he wanted to take with him. 
 
 He was quite changed. There was a 
 curious feverish restlessness about him, 
 and every moment he looked at his watch 
 as if he feared he would be too late. 
 
 We hurried through lunch. I had no 
 appetite. He took some few mouthfuls, 
 drank three or four glasses of madeira, 
 one after another, and said: 'Now we 
 must pack.' 
 
 In the bedroom everything was upside 
 down. On the bed and on the chairs lay 
 clothes, boots, cigar-boxes, books, shirts, 
 and ties. On the floor stood his trunks; 
 the drawers were all pulled out in the
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 229 
 
 dressing-table, and the wardrobe-doors 
 stood wide open. 
 
 I started packing. Then he remem- 
 bered that he had forgotten to buy writing 
 paper, asked me to excuse him for a mo- 
 ment, and went out. 
 
 I stood in the room, where every corner 
 spoke of preparation for travel, and a 
 desolate sense of misery crept over me. 
 Mechanically I took the clothes, I folded 
 them piece by piece, and laid them in the 
 big trunk. I bent down, I stood up, down 
 and up, down and up, piece after piece I 
 packed, now this, now that, in a short time 
 it would all be over and I should be alone, 
 alone. 
 
 I stood up terrified. No, no, I will not, 
 I dare not be alone. He must not leave, 
 I will beg and pray him to stay, and I 
 am sure he will do as I ask. He won't 
 have the heart to leave me. It would be 
 cruel of him, and he has no right to treat 
 me like that. 
 
 Then I heard the door bang; he came
 
 230 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 singing into the sitting-room, and when he 
 came in to me, I was again busily packing. 
 
 'How clever you are,' he said, and 
 stroked my hair. 'Never before have I 
 had such a beautifully packed trunk.' 
 
 He stood close to me, handing me the 
 things, nodding and smiling to me. 
 
 Suddenly I said : 'If I were to beg you 
 to stay, would you give up this journey?' 
 
 He looked at me in amazement, thought 
 for a moment, and said: 'Do you mean 
 it?' 
 
 'Well, if I did mean it?' 
 
 Another inquiring glance, another re- 
 flection and then: 'I should stay of 
 course.' 
 
 I had got the answer I wanted. Yet it 
 did not make me happy. We stood look- 
 ing at each other, then he came up to me, 
 put his arm round my waist and said, in 
 the most gentle and tender way, that he 
 would stay with the greatest pleasure, 
 and that it would not be the slightest sac- 
 rifice on his part to give up this trip.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 231 
 
 After which I of course said, I had only 
 meant it in fun. 
 
 The packing was not finished until the 
 last moment. The cab was already wait- 
 ing. He was anxious not to be late, and 
 we said a hurried good-bye to each other. 
 I stood hidden behind the curtain, peep- 
 ing down into the street. He caught 
 sight of me, waved his hand and swung his 
 hat. He looked so handsome and so ra- 
 diant, just as if he was starting out to 
 meet victory and happiness. 
 
 The cab turned the corner, and I let the 
 curtain fall. I walked through the rooms, 
 could not tear myself away from them. 
 I sat down on the couch, where I usually 
 sat with him. On the table in front of 
 me lay his album. I opened it and found 
 in it a picture of him as a little boy of six. 
 I took it out, playing with it like a little 
 girl plays with a doll. I laid in on my 
 heart, I kissed it, and called it tender 
 names, and while the tears were running 
 from my silly eyes, blotting out the pic-
 
 232 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ture, I said, that now we two had to keep 
 close together, now he had left us. 
 
 I sat there until the maid came in, and in 
 astonishment said : 'Good heavens, miss, 
 are you still here?' 
 
 I was also astonished at her sudden en- 
 trance. I got up quickly and left, but 
 the little picture I put in my pocket. 
 
 7 th OF JUNE. 
 
 T I iHIS morning I went to the post- 
 J. office and fetched the following 
 post-restante letter: 
 
 'VEDBAEK, 6 th OF JUNE. 
 
 'DEABEST CHILD. Do you know that 
 you spoil me, and that I have not in the 
 least deserved it. When on my arrival I 
 was received by your dear, far too dear, 
 letter, it made me both happy and 
 ashamed. I am and this is no phrase 
 quite unable to return your goodness. 
 I am especially a very poor letter-writer,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 233 
 
 while you, like so many women, are a mas- 
 ter in the art of sending yourself in an 
 envelope. I assure you that when I 
 opened your letter, it was exactly as if my 
 Julie sprang alive out into the room, 
 threw her arms round my neck and told 
 me a lot of delightful things. 
 
 'I promise you I will write very often, 
 but I am afraid you must be satisfied with 
 short notes. The country laziness has al- 
 ready taken hold of my brain, so that I 
 have to drive myself to make and spell a 
 correct phrase. The only thing my brain 
 is able to express quickly is that I am very 
 much in love with you, and am longing 
 for the 15th, when I have to pay a visit 
 to town on business. 
 
 'We live in a cottage, hardly as tall as 
 we are, but the situation is perfect, just 
 on the outskirts of the wood, and the cot- 
 tage owns a collection of pictures of 
 heavenly and earthly celebrities, which, to- 
 gether with fresh milk, pigstye, and sea- 
 weed perfume, and bedtime at ten o'clock,
 
 234 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 purifies my soul to a state of open- 
 mouthed childishness. Therefore, with- 
 out blushing, I finish this letter in the true 
 style of the usual love epistle. With love 
 and a thousand kisses to my beloved 
 darling. From her ever devoted, A.' 
 
 9 th OF JUNE. 
 
 IT has happened before that I have not 
 seen him for a whole week. Why 
 then does this week's parting seem so 
 bitter? 
 
 In an hour and a half I can get to him. 
 If to-day I write that I cannot bear the 
 parting any longer, I know he will come 
 to-morrow. 
 
 Yet, it is not the same. 
 
 Before, when I walked through the 
 streets, I knew that I might meet him at 
 any moment. I read his name on the 
 theatre posters. I passed his window, and 
 every step I took, I felt him near me, and 
 could imagine him sitting within. For
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 235 
 
 even if I did not meet him I knew he was 
 in the very air I breathed. While now, I 
 am like a traveller in a strange town. 
 Aimlessly I walk about, knowing that I 
 shall not find what I am seeking. I find 
 myself standing outside the theatre, study- 
 ing the old torn posters, and in whichever 
 direction I start I always end by finding 
 myself outside his house, where the win- 
 dows of his flat are blinded like on the day 
 of a funeral. 
 
 Every day has two bright moments. 
 When I fetch his letter and when I write 
 mine. I am happiest when I write to him, 
 for his letters are not him, they are only 
 the surface of him, they bear the stamp of 
 his reserve, his dread of letting himself go, 
 very likely also what he himself calls 
 'country -laziness.' 
 
 But when I after the others have gone 
 to bed am sitting in my little room, fill- 
 ing sheet after sheet to him, then I can 
 feel him so near that it is as if I lay in his 
 arms talking to him. The air round me is
 
 236 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 warm with his presence. While I sit with 
 bent head I feel his kiss on my neck, and 
 my pen dances along, keeping time with 
 my heart's quick beat. 
 
 14 th OF JUNE. 
 
 A FEW days ago I went to his flat, 
 and I have since been there every 
 day. I have both laughed and cried at 
 myself, but I felt I had to go. When I 
 am in his room I imagine that he has just 
 left me, that he has gone out on some 
 errand and will be back very soon. 
 
 I spend about an hour there every day, 
 going on with my work, embroidering his 
 linen, and chatting to the maid. 
 
 To-day we have been busy preparing a 
 festive reception for him. We have 
 dusted and polished; and everything is 
 spick and span. We have put fresh 
 flowers and foliage in all the vases, and I 
 have decided what he is to have for lunch. 
 
 The last thing I did before I left the
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 237 
 
 place was to write him a welcoming note, 
 which he will find on his writing-table. 
 
 Therefore, come to me, beloved, the 
 bridal house is garnished, and your bride 
 awaits you. Your bride who has no other 
 wish in her heart than to be yours, and to 
 do your bidding. 
 
 15 th OF JUNE. 
 
 I THINK he was really happy to see 
 me again, he was so dear to me. 
 
 But there is one thing I don't under- 
 stand. Why should he for a moment 
 seem out of tune when I showed him how 
 busy I had been with the table linen? 
 
 I asked him if he did not like my coming 
 to the flat when he was away, and he 
 answered: 'No, it isn't that, but well, 
 dear, you really are too good to me, and I 
 don't deserve it at all.' 
 
 Which, of course, I think is quite silly, 
 for he ought to know that I have no 
 greater pleasure than to work for him.
 
 238 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 It seems to me so absolutely natural. 
 Then why should he say, 'You are too 
 good for me,' as if goodness has anything 
 to do with it? When I had explained 
 this, he drew me close to him and said, half 
 smilingly, half seriously, 'Would it be 
 possible for you to love me a little less?' 
 'What a curious thing for a lover to ask,' 
 I answered. 
 
 'It is sheer modesty all the same,' he 
 continued. 'I think you give me so much, 
 and I give you so very little.' 
 
 'You are (kiss) a silly billy. You are 
 (kiss) grumpy and spoiled, sometimes 
 even a tease and a pig. Yet, you are 
 (kiss) the most wonderful person in the 
 world, and (kiss, kiss, kiss) I love you 
 with all my heart.' After which he for- 
 got his objections to my too great love.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 239 
 
 7 th OF JULY. 
 
 I NEGLECT my diary for my corres- 
 pondence. To him, I have a thou- 
 sand things to write, while there is noth- 
 ing particularly interesting to put into my 
 diary. Like the mile-stones on a country 
 road the days glide uniformly by. Only 
 the Saturdays stand out from the dulness. 
 The Saturdays are like cosy inns on my 
 long summer road, for every Saturday he 
 comes to town to meet me. 
 
 Thus week after week I trot along the 
 same monotonous road. Sunday is still 
 radiant from Saturday's sun, but Monday 
 and Tuesday are marked by the signs of 
 hopelessness. At Wednesday's milestone 
 the light of expectancy is shimmering 
 ahead; in growing hope and longing I 
 pass Thursday and Friday, until Satur- 
 day's happiness shines through the night's 
 dreams and I wake with joy in my heart. 
 
 But when on his staircase, a fear takes 
 hold of me. How will he receive me? 
 Will his face be bright with welcome, or
 
 240 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 will it have the expression of effort and 
 fatigue which now and again I seem to 
 have noticed, which perhaps is only my 
 imagination, but which, when I am alone, 
 sometimes stands out in my memory and 
 fills my soul with black, foreboding clouds. 
 
 The fear cripples my joy and prevents 
 me from being as nice and bright as I 
 should like to. Then he often misunder- 
 stands me; I see the nervous glint in his 
 eye, and I am sure he thinks me irritating 
 and capricious. 
 
 But he says nothing. He drinks 
 quickly a lot of wine, and persuades me 
 to drink too. 
 
 Of course wine helps. A cosy well- 
 being creeps over mind and body. All 
 dark and gloomy thoughts disappear like 
 mist before the sun ; the silly fear vanishes, 
 it sets the tongue moving, one feels nearer 
 to each other, and when one sits hand in 
 hand looking into each other's eyes, there 
 is no longer any nervous tension, no mis-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 241 
 
 take, and no suspicion, and one forgets the 
 six other days of the week for this blessed 
 happiness of the seventh. 
 
 Afterwards I cross-examine him. He 
 must give me a detailed description of 
 everything and everybody during the past 
 days. In the beginning he assures me 
 there was nothing to tell. His days were 
 taken up with bathing, lazing, smoking, 
 eating, and sleeping. But gradually I 
 have extorted from him the fact that, on 
 the whole, he leads quite a gay life. At 
 the hotel where he dines he has made many 
 friends, he plays croquet and tennis with 
 young girls, and is invited to picnic and 
 dinner parties. 
 
 He seems especially to cultivate the so- 
 ciety of a widow and her two daughters. 
 
 When first he mentioned these young 
 girls, it was with a certain restraint. He 
 tried to give it the appearance that, with 
 the best will in the world, he could not 
 escape them. They worried his life out
 
 242 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 of him with invitations and with asking 
 him to take part in all sorts of country 
 amusements. 
 
 I was silly enough to show that I was 
 jealous. This evidently amused him, and 
 now he is always trying to put these dam- 
 sels and their wonderful doings in front of 
 my nose. I know of course it is only a 
 joke, but it makes me miserable all the 
 same, though I am too ashamed to admit 
 it. 
 
 On the contrary I often ask him about 
 his two little friends. At last he revenged 
 himself in a way I did not at all like. He 
 started talking about Erik, and insisted 
 that he had all the time been jealous of 
 him. 
 
 Poor Erik! I grow sad every time I 
 think of him. I am sure he was very fond 
 of me, or he would not have behaved in 
 such a fine manly way when I told him I 
 could not be his wife. 
 
 Now he is in Berlin, and I never hear 
 from him directly. But he writes now
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 243 
 
 and again to mother, and I believe she has 
 answered his letters. 
 
 The other day when he again alluded to 
 Erik, I told him not wishing to have this 
 subject mentioned again how it had 
 ended between Erik and me. I told him 
 that Erik had asked me to be his wife and 
 that I had refused. 'Why, I need hardly 
 tell you,' I added. 
 
 He looked at me rather ashamed, but 
 only said: 'Then, please, forgive me.' 
 
 But for a long time after we were both 
 very serious. 
 
 13 th or JULY. 
 
 I KNOW it was an absurdly mad im- 
 pulse, and I was certainly severely 
 punished for it. 
 
 The weather was perfectly lovely this 
 morning, I was longing so much to see 
 him, and I thought it would be amusing 
 to pay him a little surprise visit. 
 
 I got hold of Christiane and we went
 
 244 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 off by the morning boat. We landed at 
 Skodsborg, and Christiane stayed there 
 while I walked along the highroad to Ved- 
 baek. 
 
 I passed the village where he lives, but 
 on account of his friend I dared not go in. 
 I sent a message by a boy I met, saying 
 that a lady who wished to speak to him was 
 waiting for him at the entrance to the 
 wood. 
 
 I waited about half an hour. At last 
 I saw him coming quickly along the road. 
 I stood amongst the trees, holding the sun- 
 shade so that he should not at once recog- 
 nise me. Not until I heard his step close 
 by did I come forward, letting the sun- 
 shade fall. 
 
 'Is it you?' he exclaimed, and at the 
 same moment I understood what a stupid 
 thing I had done. 
 
 'Who else should it be?' 
 
 'No; of course not. I only thought 
 that perhaps it was a joke the others were 
 playing on me. Forgive me for being so
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 245 
 
 long in coming to you. I was at the 
 hotel playing croquet. How nice it is 
 to see you. Are you here with your pa- 
 rents?' 
 
 'I am alone. I simply came out to see 
 you.' 
 
 'To see me! but it is impossible for us 
 to be seen together.' 
 
 'I thought we might have gone for a 
 long walk.' 
 
 For a moment we stood looking at each 
 other. Then he said: 'I think I'd better 
 tell you straight out how it is : I hope you 
 won't be angry with me; you know how 
 disappointed I am that I cannot spend 
 the afternoon with you. But a number 
 of the people here have arranged a big 
 picnic in which I have absolutely promised 
 to take part. You see, I could not 
 possibly ' 
 
 'No ; of course not,' I interrupted, 'how 
 could you imagine I should come here and 
 upset your plans.' His face got that 
 nervous look I dread.
 
 246 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 'I think you are a little unreasonable,' 
 he said. 
 
 'Perhaps. Then please excuse that also 
 as well as my coming; I shall go at once. 
 Good-bye, I hope you will have a jolly 
 time.' 
 
 'But you need not go at once. We are 
 not starting for an hour.' 
 
 'I think it is better. Besides what could 
 we do in such a short time, and it would be 
 a pity for you to be compromised by be- 
 ing seen with me.' 
 
 He held my hand for a long time and 
 shook his head seriously at me. 'You are 
 most unjust to me,' he said at last. 'Do 
 you really believe that it is for my own 
 sake that I am afraid of our being seen 
 together?' 
 
 'No; of course not. It is only natural 
 you should take care of my reputation; 
 you have always guarded it so well.' 
 
 He did not answer, but dropped my 
 hand, murmured a good-bye, and went 
 without looking back,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 247 
 
 I could have killed him! But as I 
 watched him slowly disappear without 
 once looking back, I had to use all my 
 strength not to call out to him. When he 
 had quite disappeared, I sank down in 
 despair. I lay huddled up sobbing 
 amongst the trees, imploring his forgive- 
 ness, and saying that he could beat me and 
 illtreat me as much as he liked if he would 
 only not go and leave me alone. 
 
 But when again I went down to the 
 high-road I saw two large waggonettes 
 driving towards me, and thought I saw 
 him in front on one of them, sitting be- 
 tween two young girls, I hurried back into 
 the wood so that he should not see me. 
 
 16 th OF JULY. 
 
 ALL sorrow has vanished and joy 
 reigns once more. We have ex- 
 plained ourselves, and defended ourselves. 
 We have sealed eternal peace by kisses 
 which were neither brother and sister
 
 248 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 kisses nor Judas's kisses, but real original 
 kisses for which Adam and Eve took out 
 a patent in the Garden of Eden. 
 
 Amongst all our festive days it was one 
 of the most beautiful. The dark back- 
 ground and the serious beginning gave it 
 a curious charm all its own. We both had 
 a longing to make up for past misery by 
 being specially good to each other. He 
 was just like that first day I went to him. 
 Just as chivalrous and dear, as guarded 
 and watchful in doing everything to 
 please me, wrapping me in an atmosphere 
 of tenderness and affection. 
 
 Besides the day had a gentle, half sad 
 feeling a sunset feeling because it was 
 our last meeting before my departure for 
 Soro, where mother and I were going for 
 three weeks. 
 
 It is hard to part from him. If things 
 had not happened as they did to-day no 
 human power should have driven me away 
 from him. Now I dare leave. The 
 memories of this day will shine on my lone-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 249 
 
 liness. I know that his love is not 
 changed. 
 
 I am now able to laugh over my unsuc- 
 cessful trip to Vedbaek. Ye gods ! what a 
 martyr I made of myself! Not the least 
 because I had no money and had to walk 
 about hungry while he, of course, feasted 
 off the best. 
 
 SORO, 20 th OF JULY. 
 VERY place here recalls to me mem- 
 J-J ories from my childhood. For it 
 was here that Erik and I in the holidays 
 strolled about together, rowed on the lake, 
 and chased the birds in the woods. 
 
 It is still there, the old oak-tree, which 
 filled my imagination with dark terror, at 
 the same time fascinating me. The old, 
 curiously deformed tree, whose branches 
 stretched themselves like gigantic palsied 
 limbs, and which gave shelter to legions of 
 the greedy proletariat of the air, the poor,
 
 250 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 always discontented, always shrieking 
 rooks. 
 
 It was under this tree that Erik per- 
 formed that deed which aroused my fear 
 as well as my admiration. 
 
 It happened that one day we found the 
 entire army of rooks wild with fury. The 
 birds formed like a thick, black cloud 
 which moved backwards and forwards 
 above the tree, piercing the air with coarse 
 and hateful shrieks. Terrified, I clung to 
 Erik's arm and asked him what was the 
 matter. He pointed upwards and said, 
 'Look there, do you see the owl, they want 
 to kill it.' 
 
 I discovered the heavy fluffy bird which 
 in blind fear now and again uttering a 
 despairing battle-cry flew about among 
 its deadly enemies. Already it showed 
 signs of having been attacked, as some of 
 its feathers dropped through the air. 
 
 I implored Erik to save it. 
 
 He bent down, picked a sharp flint from 
 the ground, and flung it. The owl
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 251 
 
 flapped his wings a few times, then fold- 
 ing them fell heavily to the ground only a 
 few yards from us. For a moment the 
 rooks became silent. Then they started 
 again, first singly, as though they were 
 asking astonished questions, then in 
 threatening, furious chorus directed to us. 
 And when Erik lifted the dead owl up and 
 we went away with it, the entire army of 
 angry rooks whose prey we had seized fol- 
 lowed us with their hoarse, revengeful 
 shrieks. By throwing stones, clapping 
 our hands and shouting, we sometimes suc- 
 ceeded in stopping them for a while. But 
 soon after, they commenced again with re- 
 newed strength; they flew nearer and 
 nearer, lower and lower, and at last I was 
 so beside myself with terror that I ran 
 along as fast as my legs could carry me, 
 and Erik, who became infected with my 
 fear, followed me. 
 
 But ever since then my heart always 
 beats when I come near the old rook tree. 
 
 Even yesterday, when I stood under its
 
 252 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 branches, I fancied I heard threats of re- 
 venge in the birds' noisy voices, and I 
 wished Erik had been at my side to protect 
 me. 
 
 26 th OF JULY. 
 
 HE is always asking me to forgive him 
 because his letters are so few and 
 far between, and I cannot deny that now 
 and again they seem rather poor. But I 
 try to understand that as it is difficult for 
 him to express his feelings, he does not 
 make a good letter-writer. 
 
 Now I know him so well his letters may 
 perhaps cause me a momentary disap- 
 pointment, but they never make me really 
 sad. 
 
 I comfort myself by writing twice as 
 long and twice as often to him. I write 
 a letter twice a day so that he may get one 
 with each post. When I write my even- 
 ing letter I know he is reading my morn- 
 ing letter, and when I am busy with my
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 253 
 
 morning letter he is just reading the one I 
 wrote the evening before. In this way I 
 build a bridge between him and me which 
 is never broken. I am always with him. 
 The little Vedbaek ladies shall not steal 
 him from me. I am near him morn and 
 eve, watching and guarding. 
 
 I am wise and say to myself: 'Let him 
 enjoy his holiday and all the innocent 
 amusements his stay in the country 
 give him! What does it really matter 
 even if he should have some little summer 
 flirtations? When all comes to all he be- 
 longs to me. He has told me so and I 
 trust him. Trust him blindly, and will 
 not embitter my mind with any low sus- 
 picion/ 
 
 But should he ever be tempted too 
 much, I am there with my letters, calling 
 him back to the path of virtue. As a 
 faithful sentinel I march up morning and 
 evening to guard his tent against all base 
 attacks.
 
 254 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 31 st OF JULY. 
 
 HE writes that he has got orders to 
 start rehearsals on the 8th of 
 August, just the day before mother and I 
 are leaving Soro. I have now got an ex- 
 cellent idea. I will ask him to come here 
 on the 7th, and spend the last day of his 
 holiday with me. It can perfectly well 
 be arranged. Nobody here knows him, 
 and we could meet in the woods, where I 
 often spend hours alone. I know several 
 lovely places where I never meet a soul. 
 I will secretly prepare a little lunch 
 basket, buy a bottle of good wine, and for 
 once in a whie he shall be my guest. 
 
 I won't give up this dream I will see it 
 realised whatever difficulties turn up, I 
 will get over them. 
 
 3 rd OF AUGUST. 
 
 OF course he has ever so many 
 scruples. He writes: T)o you 
 think it quite wise? It would certainly
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 255 
 
 be great fun, but after all, remember, 
 dear, that we will very soon meet in Co- 
 penhagen. Do you therefore think it is 
 worth while to expose yourself to the dan- 
 ger there must be in meeting me in the 
 roads in Soro forest?' He mentions a lot 
 of 'ifs,' which no doubt are all very sen- 
 sible, but which I don't care a fig about. 
 
 I am now going to bombard him with so 
 many letters that he will have to give in, 
 and after all he risks nothing, and when 
 I wish it, then why not? 
 
 No, my dear and wise cavalier, if you 
 even put on your most serious face, I will 
 answer you like the recklessly-loving girl 
 I am, even if Soro forest was full of 
 fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, and other 
 wild beasties, I will, will, will meet my 
 love there next Sunday.
 
 256 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 5 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 VICTORY ! He is coming ! 
 In spite of serious scruples, he 
 writes, 'as you please.' You can have as 
 many scruples as you like if you will only 
 come. I can see his solemn face when he 
 wrote this letter of capitulation. I can 
 see him shake his head half crossly, half 
 smiling at this over- weakness : 'She is a 
 terrible girl,' I am sure he has said to him- 
 self; 'she is so gentle and so angelic, all 
 the same she twists me round her little 
 finger.' 
 
 But don't be ashamed, dear one, because 
 for once in a way you are giving in to me. 
 I promise you I will repay you a hundred- 
 fold. 
 
 'In all likelihood I shall be with you,' 
 he says, 'but I beg you to remember that 
 I may be prevented. I am not saying this 
 because I can think of anything to pre- 
 vent me, but merely because I know from 
 experience that you are always badly pre- 
 pared for a disappointment.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 257 
 
 Thank you, my most wise person. I 
 will now write again, and won't forget to 
 say that I shall consider, for instance, an 
 earthquake sufficient excuse for not com- 
 ing. 
 
 7 th OF AUGUST. 
 Letter placed in the diary: 
 
 STEDBAEK, 6 th OF AUGUST. 
 *T ET me start this letter, which will 
 i ^ cause you great sorrow, by assur- 
 ing you, and I hope you will believe me, 
 that when in my last letter I wrote about 
 possible hindrances to my visit to Soro, I 
 did not know that I was going to write 
 this letter. 
 
 'I wish you would believe, even if you 
 are unable to understand, that this is some- 
 thing which has come without clear and 
 conscious reflection, but as something in- 
 evitable, something strong and forcible 
 which simply could not be otherwise.
 
 258 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 Though of course for a long time it has 
 been smouldering in me, and has slowly 
 and quietly worked its way. There were 
 moments when I felt it, but I forced my- 
 self to believe that it meant nothing. 
 Then again there were other moments 
 when I confidently said to myself that it 
 had only been foolish imaginings, a pass- 
 ing, meaningless dissatisfaction every- 
 thing is just as it was before. 
 
 'Until at last the truth sprang forth in 
 my soul like an unquenchable flame. It 
 is over. It must be over. 
 
 'Yes, Julie, the very hard and very sad 
 thing I have to tell you is that everything 
 must be finished between you and me. I 
 cannot and will not lie to you. I tell you 
 just as it is. I am weary, hopelessly 
 weary, I can no more. 
 
 'This came clearly to me this morning, 
 when I had your last letter. I was still in 
 bed when it was brought to me. I ex- 
 pected the letter, I knew it would come. 
 Now, listen calmly to this, and don't
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 259 
 
 judge me at once. I was lying wishing 
 that just for once no letter would arrive, 
 and I simply dreaded to see my landlady 
 come in with the fat letter of which I 
 knew every twist and turn of the writing 
 on the envelope, and alas! even before- 
 hand seemed to know the contents. The 
 letter lay on the counterpane like a night- 
 mare, it seemed heavy on my heart, filling 
 me with a thousand vague fears. A grey 
 oppression seemed to paralyse my brain 
 and filled my soul with desperate weari- 
 ness. I could not get myself to open the 
 letter and read it. 
 
 'How long I lay like this I don't know. 
 There were no clear thoughts in my head, 
 only this heavy, grey oppression which 
 made me so tired that now and again I 
 fell into a nervous sleep. 
 
 'At last I forced myself with a wrench 
 out of this drowsy state. I jumped out 
 of bed, drew the curtains from the win- 
 dow so that the full daylight could stream 
 in. Like a deliverance, almost like a hap-
 
 260 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 piness, the clear and conscious thought 
 leapt into my mind, "It is over, it must 
 be over." 
 
 'I will go on telling you the truth. I 
 won't garland my thoughts and feelings. 
 It was happiness I felt at the moment. 
 I felt so free and light-hearted. Just as 
 if I was born again with new strength 
 and new hopes. 
 
 'But when a short while ago I sat down 
 to write this letter I realised that the hard- 
 est task was still undone. 
 
 'For the point is that I have nothing at 
 all to reproach you with. On the con- 
 trary, I have only to thank you again and 
 again for all the beauty you brought me, 
 and for all your sweet love. 
 
 'Yet I come to you saying it is over, I 
 am weary. You must set me free, how- 
 ever hard and unjust it seems to you. 
 But the most despairing part of it all is 
 that most likely you will not be able to 
 understand it at all. You will only un- 
 derstand that I have failed you in spite
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 261 
 
 of all your great love, and you will 
 either think that I am acting through 
 madness, or that I have hitherto lived like 
 a scoundrel. Yet the truth is that I am 
 neither a madman nor a liar, but a liberty- 
 sick man whose mind and soul become 
 paralysed the moment he feels himself 
 hemmed in by a relationship. 
 
 'You see when you and I first met, 
 neither of us fancied it would mean more 
 than a moment's fleeting and untram- 
 melled joy. It was a caprice, an irresis- 
 tible impulse in us both with no thought 
 of a binding or constant relationship, let 
 alone eternal love. 
 
 'Then it happened that we really fell 
 in love with one another. That I have 
 loved you, I need scarcely assure you. 
 Though you often teasingly reproached 
 me that I did not tell you so, you knew 
 it by the sound of my voice, by my glance, 
 by my whole being which never attempted 
 to hide how precious you were to me. 
 You came to me as something new and
 
 262 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 wonderful, so unsullied and trusting, that 
 you aroused in me feelings more gently 
 devoted than I had known before. In 
 the radiant morning flush of our love I 
 seemed to myself like a happy explorer 
 and conqueror, free, strong, burgeoning 
 with will and gifts for new victories. 
 
 'We loved one another, but our love 
 was of a different race. I loved as the 
 experienced man, and as the man with the 
 artist's need for liberty. For you, love 
 was all and everything in your life, you 
 had no higher wish than to give yourself 
 and to possess me entirely and without re- 
 striction. 
 
 'I wished to enjoy our love as an oasis 
 in the humdrum of everyday life, but you, 
 you wanted it to be life itself. Therefore 
 it happened quite naturally that your 
 young, strong, passionate love ran my 
 less vigorous love tired. 
 
 'Our love shaped itself into something 
 greater and more serious than I could or 
 would embark on, and gradually it
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 263 
 
 frightened me. I saw how your love 
 grew day by day, I felt how you clung 
 closer and closer to me, and egoist as I 
 am, I revolted against this constant inti- 
 macy with you. I began to feel the un- 
 pleasantness of being responsible for an- 
 other's life, I felt myself restricted in my 
 movements, enslaved, imprisoned. The 
 moment came when I had to break out 
 again, feel space round me, stand alone 
 and free. 
 
 'Besides, the habit which had gradually 
 crept into our love tortured and depressed 
 me. Such men as I fear marriage just 
 because it is love regulated and systema- 
 tised. But our meetings, which in the be- 
 ginning had all the charm of the unex- 
 pected, the mysterious, the fairy-tale, 
 grew soon into well-ordered domesticity. 
 We met on such and such days at certain 
 hours, and gradually we spent a certain 
 number of hours in each other's company 
 every day. There was nothing unex- 
 pected, nothing mysterious any longer,
 
 264 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 only a daily repetition of the one and the 
 same. 
 
 'Before, when you were coming to me 
 it was a joy to prepare everything for 
 your reception, and when we parted I 
 asked with expectant eagerness, "When 
 do we meet again?" Later, there came 
 times when I had to force myself to say 
 the conventional parting words, "I sup- 
 pose we meet to-morrow?" and when you 
 came, to ask you, "What will you have to 
 drink?" and "Will you have a cigarette?" 
 I hoped it would be better when I went 
 into the country and we didn't meet, but, 
 unfortunately, there are such things as 
 letters. There is always some possibility 
 for a variation in personal intercourse, 
 while letters are everlasting uniformity. 
 They begin and they end with the same 
 phrases, at the most the words occasion- 
 ally change places, they are posted and 
 distributed at regular hours, they troop 
 up like soldiers in their unchanging en- 
 velope uniform and their regulation stamp
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 265 
 
 epaulette. All this meant nothing to 
 you, but for me it was the shifting sand 
 that slowly buried my weary love. For 
 that is the beginning and the end of what 
 I have to confess to you I am weary. I 
 can no more. I must be free. While 
 writing this I feel my weariness to such a 
 degree that I am unable to tell you of all 
 the good warm feelings my heart still 
 holds for you. It also seems to me un- 
 dignified to adorn with beautiful words 
 this letter which brings you a message you 
 have every right to think brutal and un- 
 just. I think so myself. I feel also 
 how revolting it is to break our relation- 
 ship merely because you love me too much. 
 All the same it cannot be otherwise. All 
 my arguments are of no value against 
 my weary I can no more. Neither is it 
 anything that will be cured to-morrow or 
 the day after. Please don't believe that. 
 No, it is over, and both you and I will be 
 wise in not attempting to call it back to 
 life.
 
 266 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 'For after this only what is ugly could 
 follow. 
 
 'You have often said to me, "Promise 
 me always to treat me honestly." The 
 day you feel yourself tired of our love, 
 tell me so. I can bear it if you break 
 with me, but I could never forgive you if 
 I discovered that I had been living on 
 your pity and generosity." The day you 
 anticipated has now come, and what you 
 asked me to tell you I tell you now 
 frankly. Perhaps you will say you have 
 deceived me all the same, for you have 
 been weary for some time. To this my 
 answer is, I have not myself been con- 
 scious of my weariness, and could not 
 confess that to you which I had not con- 
 fessed to myself. Now when we part we 
 will both be able to think of our love as 
 a beautiful and wonderful experience 
 no bitterness will mar the memory. The 
 parting itself is always bitter. I simply 
 dare not think of the sorrow and pain I 
 am causing you. But when some time
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 267 
 
 has passed, and we meet again more 
 calmly than we could meet now I be- 
 lieve you will say as I say now that we 
 part just at the right moment. We have 
 carried the shield of our love unblemished 
 from the battle. 
 
 'Farewell try not to judge me too 
 hardly. A.' 
 
 8 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 THE day passed and the night passed. 
 A new day has begun. It was yes- 
 terday it happened, and I am alive. 
 
 So sorrow does not kill after all, and I 
 still allow myself to live. 
 
 When I got his letter, and had read it 
 twice, and understood that it was neither 
 a joke nor a misunderstanding, I did not 
 cry, I did not faint. I was quite calm, 
 and reflected in a curious clear and calm 
 way. 'So it is really finished,' I said 
 aloud to myself. My voice sounded dry 
 and curiously uninterested. I thought to
 
 268 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 myself, 'You ought to have said that with 
 more feeling.' But there was no feeling 
 in me. Everything had stiffened within 
 me. My heart did not beat, and my 
 nerves did not tremble. Even my face 
 had grown stiff, the skin seemed quite 
 tight. I smoothed it, and forced it into 
 a smile to make sure that I could move it. 
 
 I went out of the house. Where, I did 
 not know. But a voice within me went 
 on saying, 'It is impossible for you to 
 stay here. You must get away before 
 any of the others see you.' 
 
 I met people I knew. I bowed to them, 
 and I spoke to an old lady. She told me 
 a long story about an illness from which 
 she had just recovered. When we parted 
 she said, 'You look perfectly charming to- 
 day,' and added, 'but of course you are 
 so young and happy.' I reached the for- 
 est and stood on a little open place by the 
 lake. I stood on the little landing-stage 
 and looked down into the water thinking, 
 'if you were really very sad you would let
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 269 
 
 yourself glide down there, and soon you 
 would be all right.' 
 
 From the town sounded the church 
 bells, calling people to afternoon service. 
 I looked round, and it seemed that never 
 before had I realised how beautiful the 
 place wasu My sight seemed clearer. I 
 saw things I had never noticed before. 
 For instance the tiny island where the 
 trees like love-sick narcissus bent their 
 foliage to mirror themselves in the water. 
 I heard numberless fine sounds in the 
 rushes near the lake, and from the grasses 
 and trees in the wood the voices of insects 
 buzzing, of birds nestling among the 
 leaves, of the fishes making bubbles on 
 the surface of the water. I lost myself 
 in admiration of the shape of the ever- 
 changing clouds which looked so calm and 
 unchanging on this quiet summer day, yet 
 when one closely followed their slow glid- 
 ing through space, one discovered that one 
 moment they were shining gold-edged 
 islands, the next large swooping birds,
 
 270 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 suddenly to dissolve themselves into 
 crowds of tiny playing cloud children. 
 
 With one big glance I took in the entire 
 picture, and I thought, 'Even should you 
 never come here again, you will always 
 remember what it looks like.' 
 
 I walked into the thickness of the for- 
 est. The same curious clearness followed 
 me, the same reflective, receptive mood. 
 
 Until the sudden remembrance of his 
 letter in my pocket stabbed my heart and 
 made my soul shiver. My knees shook 
 under me, and I had to lean against a tree 
 to prevent myself from falling. I 
 crushed the letter in my hand, and with- 
 out reading it I saw every word before 
 me. 
 
 It was really true he had left me it 
 was all over. 
 
 I had said the same words before. 
 They had followed me all the time, but 
 not until this moment had they reached 
 my heart, which they made writhe with 
 pain.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 271 
 
 Finished, not to see him any more! 
 
 What is he really like? I tried to 
 recall his face, but it fled from me; I 
 only saw two large dark eyes which 
 calmly, wearily, and ironically smiled at 
 me. 
 
 I cried to heaven in fear and despair. 
 I implored and prayed that it might not 
 be true. 'I understand it is a punish- 
 ment, O God, but don't you think you 
 have tortured me enough. Now I am 
 going to close my eyes, and when I open 
 them I pray you let it be a dream from 
 which I awaken.' 
 
 Again I stood by the lake, and it 
 seemed as though my only salvation was 
 to throw myself in. I did not rave any 
 longer, I was sad unto death. I wept 
 quietly and gently, I saw the beautiful 
 summer landscape in front of me, and it 
 struck me that I, who was so young, had 
 nothing more to hope from life. 
 
 When a voice within me said, 'Yes, 
 there is still hope, perhaps even now there
 
 272 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 is a wire for you, or another letter may 
 be on its way.' 
 
 Yes, of course that's it, that's it, that's 
 what will happen, and I hastened back, 
 allowing hope to build the loveliest 
 dreams. 
 
 There was no wire, and no letter has 
 come. 
 
 But I won't give up all hope before I 
 have seen him. 
 
 Already he must be back in town, and 
 we leave here to-morrow. I have written 
 to him. He will be astonished with my 
 letter, and I think he will like it. It is 
 quite free from anything hysterical. It 
 is calm and sensible. I wrote, 'Perhaps 
 you are right in thinking that something 
 a little faded has crept over our love, and 
 possibly as you suggest there is no 
 other remedy than that we don't meet for 
 some time. But perhaps it is also possi- 
 ble that by mutual efforts we may ar- 
 range matters in a way which would not
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 273 
 
 hurt quite so much. Let me therefore 
 know what time within the next few days 
 I can see you. Don't be afraid that I 
 shall come with too miserable a face. On 
 the contrary you will see how clearly and 
 sympathetically I shall understand your 
 every mood, and altogether try to behave 
 as you would like.' 
 
 9 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 LATE last night I sat in front of my 
 mirror brushing my hair. I was 
 dead tired, but not at all sleepy, and I sat 
 looking at my reflection, getting quite 
 frightened by noticing the pale face with 
 ghostly shining eyes. I began to tremble, 
 and nervously turned my head away so 
 as not to see any more. 
 
 My eyes fell on the wall behind the 
 chest of drawers. The wall was covered 
 with an old yellow paper with spots of 
 damp, and here and there it was torn. 
 On the musty paper crawled an insect, a
 
 274 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 long, narrow, flat, brown creepy thing 
 with many quickly moving legs. It 
 surely came from the crack in the right- 
 hand corner. With horror I watched its 
 manoeuvres along the wall. It was seek- 
 ing the warmth of the candle on the chest of 
 drawers. I stood up with a clothes brush 
 in my hand to kill it, when I saw another 
 just the same peep out from the crack, 
 and slowly move along the wall. I stood 
 paralysed with an uncanny fear, staring 
 with wide, stiff eyes at these loathsome 
 things, when look ! it seemed as if the wall 
 was suddenly covered with them, one after 
 the other the insects appeared from the 
 crack and crawled in a long caravan to- 
 wards the chest. I also discovered now 
 that they came not only from the crack, 
 but from every tiny split in the paper, and 
 in great numbers they hurried out from 
 the cracks between the walls and the floor. 
 I did not dare to move did not dare to 
 kill them, fearing that for each I killed 
 ten others would appear. I had not the
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 275 
 
 courage to kill these things which seemed 
 to come from a grave bringing with them 
 death and putrefaction. 
 
 I only stood waiting for the terrible 
 moment when they would reach the chest 
 and come near to me. Already they 
 stretched their shimmering legs to reach 
 the drapery over my mirror. With every 
 nerve strained I watched their efforts. 
 Then I started with feeling a cold touch 
 on my hand which rested on the chest of 
 drawers. With a shriek I shook the in- 
 sect off, and discovered in the same mo- 
 ment that they had started to crawl up the 
 chest from the floor. 
 
 In that minute I was mad. I thought, 
 'Here they come, look at them, they are 
 coming like corpse-carriers to take me to 
 the grave.' I rushed from the room and 
 into mother's who woke up startled, and 
 to whom I could only say that I was 
 frightened, only frightened. Mother 
 took me in her arms and soothed me, like 
 she did when I was a little child. Gradu-
 
 276 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 ally I grew calmer and lay weeping 
 gently. Then mother said: 'Do tell me 
 what is the matter. Why did you let 
 Erik go away, and why are you so miser- 
 able?' 
 
 But I begged her not to question me. 
 Later on I would tell her everything. 
 Mother took my face between her hands 
 and looked straight into my eyes, while 
 she said: 'There is only one thing, Julie, 
 you must and shall tell me is it possible 
 that you are ? I stopped her by put- 
 ting my hand over her mouth. 'No, 
 mother dear,' and I smiled sadly 'that 
 which you are thinking of you need not 
 fear.' 'Then, thank God, you don't 
 know how frightened I have been during 
 the last few days. Of course I had 
 guessed that there was something you 
 were keeping secret from us. I thought 
 you were meeting some one at Chris- 
 tiane's, and that in time you would come 
 and tell us that you were engaged.' 
 
 'No, mother dear, in that also you are
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 277 
 
 mistaken. I have no engagement to tell 
 you of.' 
 
 10 th OF AUGUST. EVENING, 
 COPENHAGEN. 
 
 I AM again in the old nest. It is dark 
 and ugly here, but what does it mat- 
 ter. After all I breathe the same air as 
 he does. I may meet him in the street, 
 and when to-morrow I have fetched his 
 letter I can be with him in ten minutes. 
 
 I am glad that at present mother and I 
 are alone, so I need not make any pretence 
 of cheerfulness. Father and Frantz are 
 in Jutland, and they won't be back for 
 another ten days. 
 
 11 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 HE does not wish me to come to him, 
 at all events not at present. He 
 dares not see me yet, he writes. He wants 
 to be left alone. But he promises soon 
 to send me a message.
 
 278 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 20 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 EVERY morning when I wake up I 
 think, 'To-day I shall have a letter/ 
 But the days go by, heavy, long and grey 
 and they bring nothing from him. No 
 greeting, no message, not the tiniest word. 
 How can he be so cruel! He is treat- 
 ing me in a way which even he could 
 hardly defend. 
 
 22 nd OF AUGUST. 
 
 HAS he disappeared from earth? 
 Where does he hide himself, and 
 what is he doing? 
 
 In vain I look for him in the streets at 
 the times and in the places where he usu- 
 ally goes. For hours I have stood, out- 
 side his house, but I never get a glimpse 
 of him.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 279 
 
 25 th OF AUGUST. 
 
 NOW I understand, he never means to 
 see me again. 
 
 Time after time I have been on the 
 staircase, but I did not dare to ring the 
 bell. To-day I did, and the maid came 
 out to say he was not at home. It was 
 not true, I could read in her face that she 
 had orders not to admit me. She seemed 
 embarrassed and looked pitifully at me. 
 
 Fancy that he would submit me to so 
 much humiliation. 
 
 But I will see him. I will speak to him. 
 He has no right to treat me as he does. 
 
 Though of course that is just the point, 
 he can treat me exactly as he pleases. He 
 may humiliate me and ill-treat me I 
 should only feel it a joy to be tortured by 
 him. I will crawl at his feet like a dog 
 he can kick me away, I will return and I 
 won't leave him in peace until he lets me 
 stay with him.
 
 280 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 I thought that there was perhaps some 
 one else he loves now and who comes to 
 him, and that this was the reason that he 
 would not see me. 
 
 I will write to him: Love any one else 
 you like. If I am not sufficient for you 
 and if you need change well it must 
 be so. I shall understand. You are an 
 artist. You need new impressions, new 
 inspirations. I am only a poor little girl 
 with nothing but my love. But I want 
 you to know that without anger, I can 
 share you with another. 
 
 The only thing I demand is that you 
 shall not give me up. I will in spite of 
 everything and everybody have some 
 part in you, and I want to be the one who 
 is near you when all the others have gone.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 281 
 
 1 st OF SEPT. 
 
 HE answers me : 
 'No, Julie, you must not send me 
 such letters. As I learned to know you 
 as I think of you you stand for me as 
 a symbol of nobility, a fine and original 
 nature who never worried about bourgeois 
 laws and prejudices, a refined little woman 
 who never grew common by breaking the 
 rules of good society, but who on the con- 
 trary gained thereby and developed into 
 a nobler personality. 
 
 'No, Julie, it cannot possibly be you 
 who sent me that housemaid's letter which 
 took your name in vain. 
 
 'Where could you, pure, proud, dear 
 girl, have learned those hectic, excited 
 words. 
 
 'I have I know it only too well 
 treated you cruelly. But what you are 
 now doing for yourself is a thousandfold 
 more cruel. 
 
 'My own darling, my soul's proud and 
 sweet memory, I sorrow over your letter
 
 282 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 as over a vandalism. More than that, I 
 am ashamed on your account, and to me it 
 seems the saddest thing I have ever ex- 
 perienced.' 
 
 I have written to him for the last 
 time: 
 
 *I thank you for your letter. It hurt 
 so much that I could hardly bear it. I 
 needed the brutal truth and it has done its 
 work. Don't think that I look upon it as 
 a humiliation that I was ready to lie in the 
 dust at your feet. But it was unworthy 
 of me to force myself on you when I 
 ought to have understood you do not want 
 me back at any price. 
 
 'I ask your forgiveness with all my 
 heart. I knew all the time I had no right 
 to demand anything from you. Of my 
 own free will I came to you and gave my- 
 self to you you never tied me by prom- 
 ises and conditions. But you were very, 
 very good to me. You were too good.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 283 
 
 This is my only excuse for finding it so 
 difficult to let you go. 
 
 'But before we part, I wish you to 
 know how altogether f oolish and undig- 
 nified I have been in my relationship to 
 you. From the very first day I believed 
 it would end in marriage. When I told 
 you I had no wish to marry you, when I 
 even assured you I should consider it per- 
 fect madness I told you a lie. All my 
 thoughts and longings were directed to 
 the one aim of making myself so neces- 
 sary to you that some day you would ask 
 me to be your wife. 
 
 *I am not at all that dignified, high- 
 minded girl you thought me. Behind all 
 my brave show of independence was lurk- 
 ing, first unconsciously then intentionally, 
 the cowardly bourgeois hope that ulti- 
 mately we should have the legitimate 
 church blessing on our relationship. 
 
 'My calculation failed miserably. 
 During these days I have asked myself if
 
 284 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 I did not set about it in the most foolish 
 way. I might more surely have reached 
 my goal if I had been more reserved in 
 my way of loving. 
 
 'But after all, I believe I chose the only 
 way possible for me, because I loved you 
 too well to barter myself inch by inch for 
 the highest price. 
 
 'I have lost my game, but I don't regret 
 it; however poor the future may be, I 
 know that the stake I risked is after all 
 not lost. However poor, I shall be richer 
 in memories than anybody else in the 
 world. Come what may I will always 
 bless the day I became yours. 
 
 'Gaily I came to you, sadly I turn away 
 from you now you have left me. You 
 took much but you gave much. You, my 
 dear and beloved master, my white Sheik, 
 the dream of my youth and its sorrow- 
 laden happiness. 
 
 'I thank you for it all, for your loving 
 graciousness, for your severe punishment. 
 
 'High you aim, recklessly you ride,
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 285 
 
 never caring whether on your way you 
 crush sand or blossoms. May God make 
 your victorious ride bright and happy! 
 
 'JULIE/ 
 
 12 th OF SEPT. 
 
 I FEEL so cold. The days grow 
 shorter and the evenings fall over 
 me dark and heavy. I sit in the window 
 while the daylight wanes ; I look over aim- 
 lessly to the house where before my 
 thoughts played their fairy game. The 
 house is mournful and commonplace like 
 our own, and where before my fairy 
 prince moved about sits now a fat, indo- 
 lent matron filling with sleepy stitches a 
 piece of canvas. 
 
 They say that Erik has returned. 
 Emmy told me the other day that she had 
 seen him. 
 
 I am glad he has not called here. I
 
 286 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 don't want him to see how miserable I 
 am. 
 
 I feel so cold, it is as if the whole house 
 shivered. Never before has it been quite 
 so dull, and cold, and sad. We move 
 about like shadows. Nobody speaks 
 aloud, and we meet as at a funeral. 
 
 When mother and I are alone in the 
 evening, we don't talk. We sit each with 
 our own thoughts, but I know that her 
 thoughts are all round me. 
 
 THE END OF SEPTEMBER. 
 
 I FEEL happier at grandmama's. 
 As often as I can I go to her after 
 lunch. 
 
 Through the noisy streets where the 
 people rush and scramble in the struggle 
 for existence through the feverish life, 
 which to me seems so course and hideous, 
 leaving on my soul the impression of a 
 hideous battle with hateful shrieks and de- 
 spairing moaning, I fly to the little side
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 287 
 
 street where grandmama lives. There I 
 only hear the noise in a softened murmur. 
 But when I am once safely in grand- 
 mama's sitting-room, I feel as if I had es- 
 caped a great danger. 
 
 Here it is cosy and restful, here I find 
 peace for my sorrow, healing for my 
 wound. Here all revolting thoughts are 
 softened down, here are smoothed out all 
 violent desires and sick longings. 
 
 Here grandmama sits old and full of 
 days and of the great wisdom which does 
 not ask and does not blame, which under- 
 stands and forgives, which holds comfort 
 for everything. I become like a child 
 again in grandmama's room. I have my 
 place just as when I was a little girl on 
 a footstool at her feet, and sit there look- 
 ing through the old portfolios full of 
 faded etchings. 
 
 Struensen and his lovely royal mistress ; 
 Frederick the Sixth, a poor thin-legged 
 boy in warlike uniform receiving the 
 troops ; the fire of Christianborg Castle in
 
 288 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 1794; Robespierre who on the same page 
 is shown jumping out of the window of 
 the town hall and being carried off to the 
 guillotine, with mangled arms and legs; 
 Fru Heiberg the great actress first as 
 a bewitching, unconscious maiden, and 
 later as a sentimental celebrity with long 
 shawl and ethereal glances. 
 
 Or I take a piece of work and try to 
 make myself useful, or I read the news- 
 paper to grandmama, who with the great- 
 est interest follows the foreign news and 
 nods solemnly every time we hear of fresh 
 labour strikes. 
 
 Yes, I am happier at grandmama's 
 she and old Marie vie with other in spoil- 
 ing me. As soon as I am settled down 
 comfortably grandmama says with a 
 roguish shake of her head to her old maid : 
 'Well, Marie, I suppose we have nothing 
 at all to-day to give Miss Julie.' 
 
 After which Marie answers, just as 
 roguishly, 'I really don't know, ma'am, 
 but I better have a look.'
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 289 
 
 To the general surprise she brings a 
 little later either an orange or a piece of 
 home-made cake, or some pudding with 
 jam. There is always something, and it 
 always tastes childishly good because these 
 dear old people are so happy in giving it 
 to me, and understand so well that just 
 what I need is to be treated like a sorrow- 
 ful child. 
 
 OCT. 
 
 I WISH I could travel far away from 
 it all. I shiver when I think of the 
 long winter in surroundings which every 
 moment of the day remind me of that 
 which is dead and ought to be buried and 
 forgotten, but which still bleeds within me 
 like an open wound. 
 
 But where, and how? 
 
 What I need is to stand on my own 
 feet, work hard, battle with life, make my 
 own way. But I am no good for any- 
 thing, except that bit of china painting,
 
 290 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 which is not enough to live or die on. I 
 have said to myself the only way out of 
 it is to get away to America and take a 
 situation as maid, governess, or it does not 
 matter what. But I am too much of a 
 coward. I have not got the reckless cour- 
 age which is needed for living under any 
 sort of straits. My body is spoilt and 
 dare not start a contest with heavy labour, 
 and I should suffer by being treated as a 
 menial. 
 
 I should not even have the energy to 
 force the permission from my parents. I 
 felt this the other day when I testingly 
 said to mother that I thought of going 
 away. She looked terrified at me and 
 said, 'Could you really do that to me?' 
 In the same moment all my will-power 
 had melted, and my plans for travel and 
 work collapsed miserably. No, I have 
 neither strength nor courage to break 
 away. But if I go on staying at home I 
 shall go to pieces. I think that I must 
 feel like a bird who, after being impris-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 291 
 
 oned in a cage, is allowed to spend some 
 free and beautiful days in the wood only 
 to be again imprisoned. Something in 
 me is broken. I want to fly away, but 
 however much I flap my wings I cannot 
 start a new flight. 
 
 13 th OF OCT. 
 
 AT last that has happened which I 
 both hoped and feared. I have met 
 him. I went to town to visit grandmama. 
 He came towards me with a friend. We 
 saw each other some way off. Now and 
 again people came between us so that we 
 were hidden from each other; then again 
 our eyes met. My first impulse was to 
 turn back. But I forced myself to go 
 on. I felt there was something which 
 had to be decided now. And calmly and 
 quietly with a terrible effort of will I 
 kept my eyes fixed on him. We were 
 only a few steps from each other. I saw 
 a nervous glint in his eyes I never let
 
 292 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 mine leave his and when we passed he 
 quickly took off his hat and bowed. 
 
 It was the first time he had ever greeted 
 me in a public street. 
 
 I felt at that moment that I had been 
 the stronger. But as soon as he had 
 passed my strength failed; my knees 
 shook under me, and I had to seek shelter 
 in a doorway to support myself. If he 
 had turned and followed me! I grew 
 quite faint at the thought of it. 
 
 But he did not come; and while I went 
 further on my way, and as I gradually 
 got assured that he would not come, I 
 thought that, though it was a bitter disap- 
 pointment, I could now perhaps even hope 
 for deliverance. 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF OCTOBER. 
 
 OF late I have often been in Fred- 
 ericksberg Park. It is so beautiful 
 there just now when the leaves are dying 
 in the most wonderful colouring, carried
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 293 
 
 golden to the earth by singing sun- 
 beams. 
 
 I quite understand why this garden is 
 much frequented by old people and lonely 
 souls. At its fence the noise of the town 
 stops, and the park is an asylum for quiet 
 thoughts and quiet sorrows. It is a 
 graveyard of sweet memories and broken 
 illusions. 
 
 Every day I meet the same people. It 
 is as if I knew them all, and I seem also 
 to know why they come here. There is the 
 old neatly-clothed gentleman whose mouth 
 always moves in the angry, white face, and 
 who incessantly beats the air with his stick. 
 What can be be but a late civil service 
 man who continues his fury against his 
 to him unjust dismissal? And does one 
 need to ask what the tall, slender lady, 
 dressed in black, is thinking of? She 
 comes with her young daughter, who is 
 also in mourning, and she smiles faintly 
 and absent-mindedly at the young girl's 
 chatter. Or she, the young cripple, who
 
 294 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 is wheeled along the path by a tired, worn- 
 out motherly person. 
 
 Or I myself? Do not the others sus- 
 pect the fate which has made me a mem- 
 ber of their little community? 
 
 A few days ago Erik paid us a visit, 
 but I did not see him. On hearing his 
 voice in the hall I hastened into my own 
 room, and when mother shortly after 
 asked me to see him I begged her to tell 
 him that I was not very well. 
 
 1 st OF NOV. 
 
 WAS it fancy or reality? When to- 
 day I went to the park I saw a fig- 
 ure like Erik's disappear amongst the 
 carriages. I wonder had he followed me ? 
 But if it was he, why did he not come up 
 to me? He, at all events, has no reason 
 to avoid a meeting.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 295 
 
 30 th OF DECEMBER. 
 
 TWO months have gone since I last 
 wrote in my diary. Nothing has 
 happened worth writing down, and I 
 thought my life was at an end, and that 
 everything that happened in the future 
 would be like withered leaves falling over 
 something past and dead. 
 
 But while I thought in this way, I lied 
 to myself. For while the sad and bitter 
 days dropped over me tiny new shoots be- 
 gan to spring up quietly, and without my 
 knowledge, under the withered leaves. 
 
 I felt, and I was ashamed of the feel- 
 ing, that I was too young to have finished 
 with life. I caught myself dreaming of 
 a future which was not all memories. I 
 tried to thrust these temptations away; 
 they seemed a sacrilege to my sorrow. I 
 clung to my sorrow. I sought shelter 
 and protection under its large, heavy 
 wings like a nun in her convent cell. But 
 just when I fancied myself most safe, I 
 felt in my soul vague stirrings of new
 
 296 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 hopes and promises, and I understood that 
 I was conquered. 
 
 But I am no longer a child of illusions. 
 I don't expect a fairy prince. I don't 
 believe that life will offer me an eternal 
 feast. I know I will have to take the bad 
 with the good more week-days than fete- 
 days. I know that what is coming will 
 be neither grand nor remarkable, but I 
 know also that I ought to be very grateful 
 that at all events it is life. I must take 
 my part in life since I cannot go to the 
 dead, and since I am too young to find 
 peace in the convent of sorrow. And 
 since Erik, my faithful friend, will take 
 me as I am without question, without re- 
 proach, fine and manly without demand- 
 ing any humiliation on my part. 
 
 It was he I saw that day outside the 
 park. A few days after I met him again, 
 and that day we walked together, and he 
 told me how he had often watched me, 
 but had kept at a distance because he 
 thought I preferred to be alone. I an-
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 297 
 
 swered that I had no reason to seek lone- 
 liness, but he, not believing me, kept si- 
 lent. During the weeks that followed, I 
 often met him, and now and again we 
 talked together. He began again to 
 come as before, and every time he came 
 the temptation invaded my soul. 
 
 At last one evening, about a week ago, 
 he found me alone, and let me understand 
 that he knew everything. He did not tell 
 me straight out, but he told me this 
 story: 
 
 One of his friends in Germany loved a 
 young girl. He was a clever merchant 
 and a good fellow, but neither very amus- 
 ing nor very interesting, just an everyday 
 sort of person like me, for instance, he 
 added with a smile. She was then came 
 a long, flattering description. Besides 
 being very charming, she was a romantic 
 little creature with exaggerated notions 
 of life. It was therefore not to be won- 
 dered at that she let her merchant-cousin 
 understand that his love was hopeless.
 
 298 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 She flew away from him, and she flew far. 
 Then came the day he found her again 
 wingshot and sorrowful. Her spirited 
 flight had not brought her joy. Her pain 
 hurt him more than if it had been his own, 
 for he loved her still, and had never loved 
 anybody else. He did not ask her to be 
 his, for he feared to hurt her sick heart, 
 but he tried to show her that she had no 
 better friend in the world, and that his 
 greatest happiness would be to take care 
 of her. She understood him, and when 
 some time had passed she came to him and 
 told him that she had grown very fond of 
 him. And now they are happy married 
 merchant folk in a little German town. 
 
 When Erik had finished his story we 
 were both rather embarrassed, and for 
 some time neither of us spoke. We sat 
 some time looking at each other, and I 
 thought that after all he could not know 
 everything. At last, therefore, I asked, 
 'Then the young German lady had been 
 engaged to somebody else?' 'No,' said
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 299 
 
 Erik, and he looked at me with a steady 
 glance, 'she had been another man's mis- 
 tress.' 'And yet?' 'In his eyes she had 
 not sinned ; she had merely loved another. 
 He was happy because he could now help 
 her, and because he knew that if she were 
 his wife she would not betray him.' 
 
 Then we talked about other things, but 
 when Erik was going, I said, 'Do be a 
 dear, and come on New Year's Eve, as 
 you did in the old days.' His eyes grew 
 moist, and his voice trembled when he an- 
 swered, 'Thank you, Julie.' 
 
 But later, when father and mother came 
 home, and I told mother that I had in- 
 vited Erik for the New Year's Eve, she 
 was happier, the darling little mother, 
 than I have seen her for a long time. 
 That evening we sat up late and talked 
 confidentially together as we used to; we 
 wept together, and we laughed too, and 
 mother could not say all the good things 
 she was going to do for me. 
 
 It is quite settled. Erik will be here
 
 300 JULIE'S DIARY 
 
 for New Year's Eve, and when the old 
 clock rings out the New Year, no popping 
 champagne corks will accompany its fes- 
 tive chimes, but I will quietly touch Erik's 
 hand and beg him to help me to make the 
 New Year happy. 
 
 Before this I shall have set my house in 
 order. I have taken leave of all my 
 memories of him. I have buried his let- 
 ters, kissed them for the last time, for the 
 last time wet them with my tears. I have 
 also burnt his photograph; it was hardest 
 to part with that one of him as a little boy. 
 Now it has all gone, but the veil which lay 
 in the drawer with all the other things I 
 could not burn. Mother's and my veil. 
 I buried my face in it; it seemed to me a 
 living being, a faithful friend, silent to 
 all others, but whispering to me a sweet 
 and intoxicating perfume of beautiful 
 memories. I could not kill that. I felt 
 as if it imploringly touched my cheek. I 
 kissed it, and wept into its soft folds, and 
 promised it that we two should never part.
 
 JULIE'S DIARY 301 
 
 I will wind it round my diary and hide 
 them both so that no one shall find them. 
 But should hours come when life seems 
 grey, and poor, and empty, I will seek out 
 my two old confidants, and revive with 
 them the short time when life's rich and 
 manifold splendours, like a wonderful 
 revelation, blessed my poor youth. 
 
 My diary is finished. The year I 
 started with such uncertainty is finished. 
 It became the year of my fate. Rich in 
 happiness and rich in pain. I wonder 
 which was greater, the happiness or the 
 sorrow? I cannot, and will not, measure 
 it. I only know that I wish nothing al- 
 tered. 
 
 Beautiful and terrible year, I part from 
 you in gratitude. Because you wrote my 
 life's fairy-tale never to be forgotten.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY
 
 A 000607279 7