"Do you frequent them?" Diederich asked with ironical intention. Buck explained simply that he was invited from time to time to the officers' mess. He shrugged his shoulders: "I go because I think it is useful to look at everything. On the other hand, I mix a good deal with socialists." He smiled again. "Sometimes I think I'd like to be a general, and sometimes a Labour leader. I am curious to know myself on which side of the fence I shall come down," he concluded, emptying his second glass of cognac. "What a disgusting person," thought Diederich. "And Agnes is in the dark room!" Then he said: "With your means it is open to you to get elected to the Reichstag or anything else you like. I am destined for practical work. Anyhow, I regard the Social Democrats as my enemies, for they are the enemies of the Emperor."

"Are you quite sure about that?" queried Buck. "I rather suspect the Emperor of having a secret affection for the Social Democrats. He himself would like to have become the chief Labour leader. But they wouldn't have him."

Diederich was frantic with indignation, saying it was an insult to His Majesty. But Buck was not in the least put out. "Don't you remember how he threatened Bismarck that he would withdraw military protection from the rich. In the beginning, at least, he had the same grudge against the rich as the workers, though, of course, for very different reasons, namely, because he cannot stand any one else having power."

Buck anticipated the protest which he read in Diederich's face. "Please don't imagine," he said with animation, "that I speak with any hostility. It is tenderness, rather, a sort of hostile tenderness, if you wish."

"I am afraid I don't understand," said Diederich.

"Well, you know, the sort of thing one feels for a person in whom one recognises one's own defects or, if you like, virtues. At all events, we young men are all like our Emperor nowadays, we want to realise our own personality, but we know very well that the future is to the masses. There will be no more Bismarcks and no more Lassalles. Probably it is the most gifted among us who would deny this to-day. He would certainly deny it. When power comes into the hands of such a multitude, it would be really suicidal not to exaggerate one's personal value. But in the depths of his soul he must certainly have his doubts about the part which he has arrogated to himself."

"The part?" Diederich asked, but Buck did not hear him.

"It is a rôle which can lead him very far, for it must appear a damned paradox in the world as it is to-day. The world expects nothing more from any individual than from its neighbours. The general level is important, not the exceptional, and least of all, great men."

"I beg your pardon!" cried Diederich, striking his chest. "And what about the German Empire? Should we have had that without great men? The Hohenzollerns are always great men." Buck screwed up his mouth in a melancholy and sceptical smile. "Then they had better look out for themselves and so had we. In his own sphere the Emperor is facing the same question as I. Shall I become a general and fashion my whole life in view of a war which, so far as we can see, will never happen? Or shall I become a more or less gifted Labour leader, while the people are at the stage where they can do without men of genius? Both would be romantic, and romance notoriously ends in bankruptcy." Buck drank two more glasses of cognac in succession.

"What, then, am I to do?"

"A drunkard," thought Diederich. He debated with, himself whether it was not his duty to pick a quarrel with Buck. But Buck was in uniform, and perhaps the noise would have frightened Agnes out of her hiding-place. Then, goodness knows what might happen! In any case he determined to make an exact note of Buck's remarks. Holding such opinions, did the man really believe that he could get on? Diderich remembered that in school Buck's German compositions had aroused in him a deep, if inexplicable, mistrust; they were too clever. "That's it," he thought, "he has remained the same, an intellectual, and so is the whole family." Old Buck's wife was a Jewess and had been an actress. After the event Diderich felt humiliated by the benevolent condescension of old Buck at his father's funeral. The son also humiliated him constantly and in all things: by his superior phrases, by his manners, by his intercourse with the officers. Was he a von Barnim? He was only from Netzig like Diederich himself. "I hate the whole lot of them!" From beneath his half-closed eyelids Diederich observed his fleshy face with its gently curved nose and moist, shining eyes, full of dreams. Buck rose: "Well, we'll meet again at home. I shall pass my examination next term, or the term after, and then what is there to do but be a lawyer in Netzig? And you?" he asked Diederich solemnly explained that he did not intend to waste his time and would finish his doctor's thesis by summer. Then he saw Buck to the door. "You are only a silly fool after all," he said to himself, "you didn't notice that I had a girl with me." He returned, pleased at his superiority to Buck, and to Agnes who had waited in the darkness and had not uttered a sound.

When he opened the door, however, she was leaning over a chair, her breast was heaving and with her handkerchief she was stifling her gasps. She looked at him with reddened eyes, and he saw that she had almost choked in there, and had cried—while he was sitting out here drinking and talking a lot of nonsense. His first impulse was one of immense remorse. She loved him! There she sat, loving him so much, that she bore everything! He was on the point of raising his arms and throwing himself before her, weeping and begging her pardon. He restrained himself just in time from fear of the scene and the sentimental mood which would follow, and would cost him more of his working time and would give her the upper hand. He would not give her that satisfaction. For, of course, she was exaggerating on purpose. So he kissed her hastily on the forehead and said: "Here already? I did not see you arriving at all." She gave a start, as if she were going to reply, but she remained silent. Whereupon he explained that some one had just gone out. "One of those young Jews trying to make himself important! Simply disgusting." Diederich rushed about the room. In order not to look at Agnes, he went quicker and quicker and talked with increasing violence. "Those people are our deadliest enemies! With their so-called refined education they paw everything which is sacred to us Germans! A damn Jew like that may consider himself fortunate when we put up with him. Let him swot his law books and keep his mouth shut. I don't care a rap for his high-brow smartness!" He screamed still louder, with the intention of hurting Agnes. As she did not answer, he tried a new line of attack. "It all comes because every one now finds me at home. On your account I am constantly obliged to hang around the place!"

Agnes replied timidly: "We have not seen one another for six days. On Sunday again, you didn't come. I am afraid you don't love me any more." He came to a standstill in front of her* Very condescendingly: "My dear child, I imagine it is hardly necessary for me to assure you that I love you. But it is quite another question whether I, therefore, wish to watch your aunts at their crochet every Sunday, and to talk politics with your father, who doesn't understand the slightest thing about it." Agnes bowed her head. "It used to be so nice. You got on so well with papa." Diederich turned his back on her and looked out of the window. That was just it: he was afraid of being on too good terms with Herr Göppel. He knew from his bookkeeper, old Sötbier, that Göppel's business was going down. His cellulose was no good, and Sötbier no longer gave him any orders. Clearly a son-in-law like Diederich would have suited him most beautifully. Diederich had the sensation of being involved with these people. With Agnes, too. He suspected her of working in conjunction with the old man. Indignantly he turned to her again. "Another thing, my dear child, let us be honest: what we two do is our affair, isn't it? So don't drag your father into it. The relations which exist between us must not be mixed up with family friendship. My moral sense demands that the two shall be kept entirely separate." A moment passed, then Agnes rose as if she at last understood. Her cheeks were crimson. She walked towards the door and Diederich caught up on her. "But I didn't mean it that way, Agnes. It was only because I had too much respect for you—and I shall really be able to come on Sunday." She let him talk, unmoved. "Now, do be pleasant again," he begged. "You haven't even taken off your hat." She did so. He asked her to sit down on the sofa and she obeyed. She kissed him, too, as he desired. But though her lips smiled and kissed, her eyes were staring and unresponsive. Suddenly she seized him in her arms; he was frightened, for he did not know if it was hate that moved her. But then he felt that she loved him more passionately than ever.

"To-day was really beautiful, wasn't it, my dear, sweet little Agnes?" Diederich asked, happy and contented. "Good-bye," said she, hastily seizing her bag and umbrella while he was still dressing himself.

"You're in a great hurry.—I suppose there is nothing more I can do for you?" She was already at the door, when suddenly she fell with her shoulders against the door post and did not move. "What's wrong?" When Diederich approached he saw that she was sobbing. He touched her. "Yes, what is the matter with you?" Then she began to cry loudly and convulsively. She did not stop. "Agnes, dear," said Diederich from time to time. "What has happened all of a sudden? We were so happy." He did not know what to do. "What have I done to you?" Between spasms of crying which half choked her, she managed to say: "I can't help it. Forgive me." He carried her to the sofa. When the crisis was over Agnes was ashamed. "Forgive me, it is not my fault."—"It is mine! "—"No, no. It is my nerves. I am sorry!"

Full of patience and sympathy he saw her to a cab. Look ing back on it, however, the affair seemed to him half playacting, and one of the tricks which would catch him in the end. He could not get rid of the feeling that plans were being laid against his freedom and his future. He defended himself with rude behaviour, insistence upon his manly independence, and by his coldness whenever her mood was sentimental. On Sundays at Göppel's he was on his guard as if in an enemy's country; he was correct and unapproachable. When would his research work be finished, they would ask. He might find a solution the next day or in two years, he himself didn't know. He stressed the fact that in the future he would be financially dependent upon his mother. For a long time yet he would have no time for anything but business. When Herr Göppel reminded him of the ideal values in life, Diederich repelled him sharply. "Only yesterday I sold my Schiller. My head is screwed on the right way and I can't be fooled." Whenever, after such speeches, he felt the silent reproach of Agnes's glance upon him, he would feel for a moment as if some one else had spoken and he was living in a fog, speaking falsely and acting against his own will. But that feeling passed off.

Whenever he ordered her, Agnes came, and she left whenever it was time for him to go off to work or to drink. She no longer enticed him to day-dreams in front of pictures after he had once stopped in front of a sausage shop, and had declared that this spectacle was for him the highest form of artistic enjoyment. At last it occurred even to him that they saw one another very seldom. He reproached her because she no longer insisted on coming more often. "You used to be quite different." "I must wait," said she. "Wait for what?" "Until you are again like you used to be. Oh, I am quite certain that you will be."

He remained silent for fear of having explanations. Nevertheless, things came about as she had predicted. His work was finally finished and accepted. He had still to pass only an unimportant oral examination, and he was in the exalted frame of mind of one who has passed a turning point. When Agnes came with her congratulations and some roses he burst into tears and vowed that he would love her always and for ever. She announced that Herr Göppel was just starting on a business trip for several days. "And the weather is so perfectly lovely just now. …" Diederich at once accepted the hint. "We have never had such an opportunity. We must make use of it." They decided to go out into the country. Agnes knew of a place called Mittenwalde; it must be lonely there and as romantic as the name. "We shall be together all day long!"—"And the whole night, too," added Diederich.

Even the station from which they started was out of the way and the train was small and old-fashioned. They had the carriage to themselves. The day slowly darkened, the guard lit a dim lamp for them, and held close in one another's arms they gazed silently with wide-open eyes at the flat, monotonous fields. Oh, to go out there on foot, far away, and lose oneself in the kindly darkness! They almost got out at a little village with a handful of houses. The jovial guard held them back, asking if they wanted to sleep under a hayrick all night. Then they reached their destination. The inn had a great yard, a spacious dining-room lit with oil lamps hanging from the rafters, and a genial innkeeper, who called Agnes "gnädige Frau," with a sly, Slavic smile, full of secret sympathy and understanding. After eating they would have liked to go upstairs at once, but they did not dare to do so and obediently turned the pages of the magazines which their host laid before them. As soon as he had turned his back, they exchanged a glance and in the twinkling of an eye they were on the stairs. The lamp had not yet been lit in the room and the door was still open, but they already lay in one another's arms.

Very early in the morning the sun streamed into the room. Down in the yard the fowl were pecking and fluttering on the table in front of the summer house. "Let us have breakfast there!" They went downstairs. How delightfully warm it was. A delicious smell of hay came from the barn. Coffee and bread tasted fresher to them than usual. Their hearts were so free and life stood open before them. They wanted to walk for hours and the innkeeper had to tell them the names of the streets and villages. They joyfully praised his house and his beds. He assumed they were on their honeymoon. "Quite right," they said, laughing heartily.

The cobblestones of the main street stretched themselves upwards and were gaily coloured by the summer sun. The houses were uneven, crooked, and so small that the roads between them gave the impression of a field dotted with stones. The bell in the general dealer's shop tinkled for a long time after the strangers had left. A few people, dressed in semifashionable style, glided amongst the shadows and turned to look after Agnes and Diederich, who felt proud, for they were the most elegantly dressed in the place. Agnes discovered the milliner's shop with the hats of the fine ladies. "It is incredible! Those were the fashion in Berlin three years ago!" Then they went through a shaky looking gateway out into the country. The mowers were at work in the fields. The sky was blue and oppressive, and the swallows swam in the heavens as if in stagnant water. The peasants' cottages in the distance were bathed in a warm haze, and a wood stood out darkly with blue pathways. Agnes and Diederich took one another's hands and without premeditation they began to sing a song for wandering children, which they remembered from their school-days. Diederich assumed a deep voice to excite Agnes's admiration. When they could not remember any more their faces met and they kissed as they walked.

"Now I can see properly how pretty you are," said Diederich, looking tenderly into her rosy face, her bright eyes glittering like stars beneath their fair lashes. "Summer weather always agrees with me," replied Agnes with a deep breath which filled out her lungs. She looked slim as she walked along, with slender hips, her blue scarf floating behind her. It was too warm for Diederich, who first took off his coat, then his waistcoat, and finally admitted that he would have to walk in the shade. They found shelter along the edge of a field in which the corn was still standing, and under an acacia which was in bloom, Agnes sat down and laid Diederich's head in her lap. They played for a while with each other and joked: suddenly she noticed that he had fallen asleep.

He woke up, looked about him, and when he saw Agnes's face he beamed with delight. "Dearest," said she, "what a good-natured, silly old face you have."—"Come now, I can't have slept more than five minutes. What, really, have I been asleep for an hour? Were you bored?" But she was more astonished than he that the time had passed so quickly. He withdrew his head from beneath the hand which she had laid upon his hair when he fell asleep.

They went back amongst the fields. In one place a dark mass was lying. When they peered through the stalks, they saw it was an old man in a fur cap, rusty coat and corduroy trousers also of reddish hue. He was crouching on his haunches and had twisted his beard round his knees. They bent down lower to get a better look at him. Then they noticed that he had been gazing at them for some time with dark, glowing eyes like live coals. In spite of themselves they hastened on, and in the glances which they exchanged they read the fear of frightened children. They looked about them: they were in a vast strange land, away in the distance behind them the little town looked unfamiliar as it slept in the sun, and by the sky it seemed as if they had been travelling day and night.

What an adventure! Lunch was in the summer house of the inn, with the sun, the fowl, and the open kitchen window through which the plates were passed out to Agnes! Where was the bourgeois orderliness of Bliicherstrasse, where Diederich's hereditary Kneiptisch? "I will never leave here," declared Diederich, "and I won't let you leave." "Why should we?" she answered. "I will write to father and have the letter sent to him by my married friend in Kustrin. Then he will think I am there."

Later they went out for a walk again in the other direction, where the water ran and the sails of three windmills stood out on the horizon. A boat lay on the canal, and they hired it and drifted along. A swan came towards them, and their boat and the swan glided past one another noiselessly, coming to a stop of its own accord beneath the overhanging bushes. Suddenly Agnes asked about Diederich's mother and sisters. He said that they had always been good to him and that he loved them. He was going to have his sisters' photographs sent. They had grown up into pretty girls, or perhaps not pretty, but so nice and gentle. One of them, Emma, read poetry like Agnes. Diederich was going to look after them both and get them married. But he would keep his mother with him, for he owed to her all that was best in his life until Agnes came. He told her about the twilight hours, the fairy tales beneath the Christmas trees of his childhood, and even about the prayers which he said "from his heart." Agnes listened, sunk in thought. At last she sighed: "I would like to meet your mother. I never knew my own." Full of pity he kissed her respectfully and with an obscure sense of uneasy conscience. He felt that he had now to say but one word which would console her for ever. But he could not speak, and put it off. Agnes gave him a profound look. "I know," she said slowly, "but you are good at heart, only sometimes you must act differently." Her words made him start. Then she concluded by way of apology: "I am not afraid of you to-day.

"Are you afraid at other times?" he questioned remorsefully.

"I am always afraid when other people are jolly and in the highest spirits. Formerly with my friends I often used to feel as if I could not keep pace with them, and that they would notice it and despise me. But they did not notice anything. When I was a child I had a doll with big, blue glass eyes, and when my mother died I had to sit in the next room with my doll. It kept staring at me with its hard, wide-open eyes that seemed to say to me: 'Your mother is dead. Now every one will look at you as I do.' I would like to have laid it on its back so that the eyes would close. But I didn't dare to do so. Could I have laid the people too on their backs? They all have such eyes and sometimes—" She hid her face on his breast, "Even you have."

He felt a lump in his throat. His hand sought her neck and his voice trembled. "Agnes! my sweetest, you cannot know how much I love you. … I was afraid of you, indeed I was! For three whole years I longed for you, but you were too beautiful for me, too fine, too good. …" His heart melted and he told her everything that he had written to her after her first visit, in the letter which still lay in his desk. She had raised herself and was listening to him enchanted, with her lips parted. Softly she rejoiced: "I knew it, you are like that, you are like me!"

"We belong to one another," said Diederich, pressing her to him, but he was frightened by his own words. "Now," he thought, "she will expect me to speak!" He wanted to do so, but felt powerless. The pressure of his arms around her back grew weaker. … She made a movement and he knew that she no longer expected him to speak. They drew away from one another with averted faces. Suddenly Diederich buried his face in his hands and sobbed. She did not ask why, but soothingly stroked his hair. That lasted quite a while.

Speaking over his head into space, Agnes said: "Did I ever say that I thought it would last? It must end badly because it has been so beautiful." He broke out in desperation. "But it is not over!"

"Do you believe in luck?" she asked.

"Never again, if I lose you!"

She murmured: "You will go away out into the world and forget me."

"I would rather die!"—and he drew her closer. She whispered against his cheek:

"Look how wide the water is here, like a lake. Our boat has got loose of itself and has led us far out. Do you still remember that picture? and that lake on which we once sailed in a dream? Whither, I wonder?" And more softly: "Whither are we drifting?"

He did not answer any more. Wrapped in one another's arms, and lips pressed against lips, they sank backwards deeper and deeper over the water. Was he dragging her? Was she pushing him? Never had they been so united. Now, Diederich felt, it was right. He had not been noble enough, not trustful enough, not brave enough, to live with Agnes. Now he had risen to her, now all was well.

Suddenly came a bump and they started up. Diederich's movement was so violent that Agnes had fallen from his arms to the bottom of the boat. He drew his hand across his forehead. "What on earth was that?" Shivering with fright he looked away from her, as if he had been insulted. "One should not be so careless in a boat." He allowed her to get up by herself, seized the oars at once and rowed back. Agnes kept her face turned towards the shore. Once she ventured a glance at him, but he looked at her with such harsh, mistrustful eyes that she shuddered.

In the darkening twilight they walked faster and faster back along the high road. Towards the end they were almost running. It was not until it was so dark as to hide their faces that they spoke. Perhaps Herr Göppel was coming home early the next morning. Agnes had to get back. … As they arrived at the inn, the whistle of the train could be heard in the distance. "We can't even eat together again," cried Diederich, with forced regret. In a terrible fluster their things were got, the bill was paid and they were off. They had scarcely taken their seats when the train started. It was fortunate that it took them some time to get their breath and to talk over the hasty questions of the last quarter of an hour. They had nothing more to say, and there they sat alone under the dim light as if stunned by a great mishap. Was it that sombre country out there which had once enticed them and promised happiness? That must have been yesterday? It was now irrevocably past. Would the lights of the city never come to release them?

By the time they had arrived they had agreed that it was not worth while getting into the same cab. Diederich took the tram. With the merest glance and touch of the hands they separated.

"Phew!" exclaimed Diederich, when he was alone. "That has settled it." He said to himself: "It might just as well have gone wrong." Then, indignantly: "Such an hysterical person!" She herself would probably have clung to the boat. He would have taken a bath alone. She only hit on the trick because she wanted to be married at all costs! "Women are so impetuous and they are without restraints. We men cannot keep up with them. This time, by God, she led me an even worse dance than formerly with Mahlmann. Well, let it be a lesson to me for life. Never again!" With assured gait he betook himself to the Neo-Teutons. Henceforth he spent every evening there, and in the day time he ground for his oral examination, not at home, as a precaution, but in the laboratory. When he did come home he found it laborious to mount the stairs, and he had to admit that his heart was beating abnormally. Tremblingly he opened the door of his room—nothing. In the beginning, after it had become a little easier, he ended regularly by asking the landlady if any one had called. Nobody had called.

A fortnight later a letter came. He opened it without thinking, then he felt inclined to throw' it into the drawer of his writing table without reading it. He did so, but then took it out again and held it in front of his face at arm's length. His hasty and suspicious glance caught a line here and there. "I am so unhappy. …" "We've heard all that before," Diederich thought in reply. "I am afraid to come to you. …" "So much the better for you!" "It is dreadful to think we have become strangers to one another. …" "Well, you've grasped that much anyhow." "Forgive me for what has happened, if anything has happened. …" "Quite enough!" "I cannot go on living. …" "Are you beginning that all over again?" Finally he hurled the sheet of paper into the drawer with that other letter which he had filled with exaggerations during a night of madness, but which he had fortunately not posted.

A week later, as he was coming home late, he heard steps behind him which sounded peculiar. He turned round with a start and the figure stood still with raised hands stretched out empty before it. While he opened the street door and stepped in he could still see it standing in the shadow. He was afraid to turn on the light in the room. While she stood out there in the dark, looking up, he was ashamed to light up the room which had belonged to her. It was raining. How many hours had she been waiting? She was probably still there, waiting with her last hope. This was more than he could stand. He was tempted to open the window, but he refrained. Then he suddenly found himself on the stairs with the key of the street door in his hand. He had just enough will power to turn back. He shut his door and undressed. "Pull yourself together, old chap!" This time it would not be so easy to extricate oneself from the affair. No doubt the girl was to be pitied, but after all it was her doing. "Above all things, I must remember my duty to myself." The next morning, having slept badly, he even held it as a grievance against her that she had once more tried to make him deviate from his proper course. Now, of all times', when his examination was imminent! It was very like her to behave in this unconscionable fashion. That scene in the night, when she had seemed like a beggar in the rain, had transformed her into a suspicious and uncanny apparition. He regarded her as definitely fallen. "Never again, not on your life!" he assured himself, and he 'decided to change his lodgings for the short time which he still had to stay, "even at a pecuniary sacrifice." Fortunately, one of his colleagues was just looking for a room. Diederich lost nothing and moved at once far out onto the North Side. Shortly afterwards he passed his examination. The Neo-Teutons celebrated the occasion with a Frühschoppen which lasted until the evening. When he reached home, he was told that a gentleman was waiting in his room. "It must be Wiebel," thought Diederich, "coming to congratulate me." Then with swelling hope, "Perhaps it is Assessor von Barnim?" He opened the door and jumped back, for there stood Herr Göppel.

The latter was at a loss for words at first. "Well, well, why in evening dress?" he said, then with hesitation: "were you by any chance at our house?"

"No," replied Diederich, starting again in fear. "I have only been passing my doctor examination."

"My congratulations," said Göppel. Then Diederich managed to say: "How did you find out my address?" And the other replied, "certainly not from your former landlady, but there are other sources of information." Then they looked at one another. Göppel's voice had not been raised, but Diederich felt terrible threats in it. He had always refused to think about this catastrophe, and now it had happened. He would have to brace himself up.

"As a matter of fact," began Göppel, "I have come because Agnes is not at all well."

"Oh, really," said Diederich with an effort of frantic hypocrisy. "What's wrong with her?" Mr. Göppel wagged his head sorrowfully. "Her heart is bad, but, of course, it is only her nerves … of course," he repeated, after he had waited in vain, for Diederich to say something. "Now worry has driven her to melancholia and I would like to cheer her up. She is not allowed to go out. But won't you come and see us, tomorrow will be Sunday?"

"Saved!" thought Diederich. "He knows nothing." He was so pleased that he became quite diplomatic and scratched his head. "I had fully determined to do so, but now I am urgently required at home, our old manager is ill. I cannot even pay farewell calls on my professors, for I am leaving first thing in the morning."

Göppel laid his hand upon his knee. "You should think it over, Herr Hessling. Often one has duties to one's friends." He spoke slowly and his glance was so searching that Diederich's eyes could not meet it. "I only wish I could come," he stammered. Göppel replied: "You can. In fact, you can do everything that the present situation requires."

"What do you mean?" Diederich shivered inwardly. "You know very well, what I mean," said the father, and, pushing back his chair a little: "I hope you do not think that Agnes has sent me here. On the contrary, I had to promise her I would do nothing and leave her in peace. But then I began to think that it would be really too silly for us two to go on playing hide and seek with one another, seeing that we are friends, and that I knew your late lamented father, and that we have business connections and so forth."

Diederich thought: "These business connections are a thing of the past, my dear man." He steeled himself.

"I am not playing hide and seek with you, Herr Göppel."

"Oh, well, then everything is all right. I can easily understand, no young man, especially nowadays, wants to take the plunge into matrimony without going through a period of hesitation. But then the matter is not always so simple as in this case, is it? Our lines of business fit into one another, and if you wanted to extend your father's business Agnes's dowry would be very useful." In the next breath, he added while his glance faltered: "At this moment, it is true I can only put my hands on twelve thousand marks in cash, but you can have as much cellulose as you want."

"So, you see," thought Diederich, "and even the twelve thousand would have to be borrowed—that is, if you could raise a loan." … "You misunderstand me, Herr Göppel," he explained. "I am not thinking of marriage, that would require too much money." Herr Göppel laughed, but his eyes were full of anxiety as he said: "I can do more than that. …"

"It doesn't matter," said Diederich in a tone of dignified refusal.

Göppel became more and more bewildered.

"Well, then, what do you really want?"

"I? Nothing. I thought you wanted something, since you have called on me."

Göppel pulled himself together. "That won't do, my dear Hessling, after what has happened, especially as it has gone on for so long."

Diederich looked at the father up and down, and the corner of his mouth curled. "So, you knew about it, did you?"

"I was not certain," murmured Göppel. With great condescension Diederich retorted: "That would have been rather remarkable."

"I had every confidence in my daughter."

"That's where you were mistaken," said Diederich, determined to use every weapon in self-defence. Göppel's forehead flushed. "I also had confidence in you."

"In other words, you thought I was naive." Diederich stuck his hands in his trousers' pocket and leant back.

"No!" Göppel jumped up. "But I did not take you for the dirty cad that you are!"

Diederich stood up with an air of formal restraint. "Do you challenge me to a duel?" he asked. Göppel shouted, "No doubt that is what you'd like! To seduce the daughter and shoot the father. Then your honour would be satisfied."

"You understand nothing about honour." Diederich, in his turn became excited, "I did not seduce your daughter. I did what she wanted, and then I could not get rid of her. In this she takes after you." With great indignation: "How do I know that you were not in league with her from the beginning? This is a trap!"

Göppel's face looked as if he were going to shout still louder. He gave a sudden start, and in his ordinary tone, but with a voice that shook, he said: "We are becoming too heated, the subject is too important for that. I promised Agnes that I would remain quiet."

Diederich laughed derisively. "You see what a swindler you are, you said before that Agnes did not know you were here."

The father smiled apologetically. "In the end people can always agree in a good cause, isn't that so, my dear Hessling?"

But Diederich felt that it was dangerous to become amiable again.

"What the hell do you. mean by your 'dear Hessling'!" he yelled. "To you I am Doctor Hessling!"

"Of course," retorted Göppel stiff with rage. "I suppose this is the first time that you have been able to get yourself called Doctor. You may be proud of so auspicious an occasion." "Do you wish to make any insinuations against my honour as a gentleman?" Göppel made a gesture of dissent.

"I make no insinuations. I am simply wondering what we have done to you, my daughter and I. Must you really have so much money with your wife?"

Diederich felt that he was blushing, and he proceeded with all the more assurance.

"Since you insist upon my telling you: my moral sense forbids me to marry a girl who does not bring her maidenly purity as her marriage portion."

Göppel was obviously on the point of breaking out again, but his strength failed him, he could only just stifle a sob.

"If you had seen her misery this afternoon. She confessed to me because she could not stand it any longer. I believe she does not even love me any more, only you. I suppose it is natural, you are the first."

"How do I know that? Before me a gentleman named Mahlmann frequented your house." Göppel shrank as if he had received a blow on the chest. "Yes, how can you tell? A person who tells lies cannot be believed."

He continued: "Nobody can expect me to make such a woman the mother of my children. My sense of duty to society is too strong." With this, he turned round and, stooping over the trunk that stood open, he began to fill it with his things.

Behind him he could hear the father who was now really sobbing—and Diederich could not help feeling moved himself by the manly noble sentiments which he had expressed, by the unhappiness of Agnes and her father which his duty forbade him to alleviate, by the painful memory of his love and this tragic fate. … His heart almost stopped beating as he listened to Herr Göppel opening and closing the door, creeping along the passage, and as he heard the noise of the street door closing behind him. Now it was all over—then Diederich fell on his knees and wept passionately into his half-packed trunk. That evening he played Schubert.

That was a sufficient concession to sentiment. He must be strong. Diederich speculated as to whether Wiebel had ever become so sentimental. Even a common fellow like Mahlmann, without manners, had given Diederich a lesson in ruthless energy. It seemed to him almost unlikely that any of the others had still perhaps some soft spots left in them. He alone was so afflicted by the influence of his mother. A girl like Agnes, who was just as foolish as his mother, would have rendered him unfit for these difficult times. These difficult times, the phrase always reminded Diederich of Unter den Linden with its mob of unemployed, women and children, of want and fear and disorder—and all that quelled, tamed into cheering, by the power, the all-embracing superhuman power, massive and flashing, which seemed to place its hoofs upon those heads.

III

"You are a practical person, too!" Diederich was delighted. "Then you used to climb over the garden wall to us, you little rogue! Most of the time you did not wear knickers, and when your dress slipped up there was a view from behind."

She shrieked; no decent man would remember such things. "Now, it must be much more interesting," added Diederich. She at once became more serious.

"Now, I am engaged to be married."

It was to Wolfgang Buck that she was engaged. Diederich was silent and his face expressed his disappointment. Then he declared reluctantly that he knew Buck. She said cautiously: "I suppose you mean that he is rather eccentric? But the Bucks are a very distinguished family. Of course, in other families there is more money," she concluded. Feeling that this shot was directed at him, Diederich looked at her. She twinkled. He wanted to ask her something, but he had lost courage.

Just before they reached Netzig Fräulein Daimchen asked: "and what about your heart, Dr. Hessling, is it still free?"

"So far I have avoided an engagement." He nodded his head seriously. "Oh, you must tell me all about it," she cried, but their train was now entering the station. "I hope we'll meet soon again," said Diederich. "I can only say that a young man often comes damned near burning his fingers. A yes or a no can spoil his whole life."

His two sisters were waiting in the station. When they caught sight of Guste Daimchen, they first made a wry face but then rushed up and helped to carry her luggage. As soon as they were alone with Diederich they explained their zeal. Guste had come in for some money and was a millionairess. So that was it! He was filled with timid respect.

The sisters related the story in detail. An elderly relative in Magdeburg had left all the money to Guste as a reward for the way she had looked after him. "And she earned it," remarked Emma, "towards the end, he was simply disgusting, they say." Magda added: "and, of course, you can draw your own conclusions, for Guste was a whole year in the house with him alone."

Diederich at once became indignant. "A young girl should not say such things," he cried righteously, but Magda assured him that Inge Tietz, Meta Harnisch and every one said it. "Then I command you most emphatically to contradict such talk." There was a moment's silence, then Emma said: "Guste, you know, is already engaged."—"I know that," muttered Diederich.

They met a number of acquaintances. Diederich heard them addressing him as "Doctor," beamed proudly, and walked on between Emma and Magda, who cast admiring glances from each side at his new style of wearing his moustache. When they reached the house, Frau Hessling received her son with open arms and shrieks like those of a drowning person calling for help. Diederich also wept, much to his own surprise. All at once he realised that the solemn hour of fate had come, in which he entered the room for the first time as the real head of the family, completely fitted out with the title of Doctor, land determined to guide the factory and the family according to his own well considered views. He took the hands of his mother and sisters all together, and said in earnest tones: "I shall never forget that I am responsible before God for you."

Frau Hessling, however, was uneasy. "Are you ready, my boy?" she asked. "Our people are waiting for you." Diederich finished his beer and went downstairs at the head of his family. The yard had been swept clean and the entrance to the factory was framed with wreaths of flowers which surrounded the inscription "Welcome!" In front stood the old bookkeeper Sötbier who said: "Well, good day, Dr. Hessling. I ain't had a chance to come up, there were still some things to do."

"On a day like this you might have left it," replied Diederich walking past him. Inside, in the rag room he found the work people. They all stood clustered together; the twelve workmen who looked after the paper machine, the cylinder machine and the cutter, the three bookkeepers together with the women whose job it was to sort the rags. The men coughed, there was an awkward pause until several of the women pushed forward a little girl who held a bouquet of flowers in front of her and in a piping voice wished the Doctor welcome and good luck. With a gracious air Diederich accepted the flowers. Now it was his turn to clear his throat. First he turned towards his own family, then he looked sharply into the faces of his workers, one after another, even the blackbearded machinist, although this man's look made him feel uncomfortable. Then he began:

He raised his voice and spoke still more sharply and commandingly, looking all the while at old Sötbier:

"Now I have taken the rudder into my own hands. My course is set straight and I am guiding you to glorious times. Those who wish to help me, are heartily welcome, but whoever opposes me in this work I will smash."

He tried to make his eyes flash and the ends of his moustache rose still higher.

"There is only one master here, and I am he. I am responsible only to God and my own conscience. You can always count on my fatherly benevolence, but revolutionary desires will be shattered against my unbending will. Should I discover any connection between one of you"—he caught the eye of the black-bearded machinist, who looked suspicious—"and the Social Democratic clubs, our relationship will be severed. I regard every Social Democrat as an enemy of my business and his country. … So now return to your work and consider well what I have told you.

He turned round sharply and marched off, breathing heavily His strong words produced in him a kind of dizziness which made him incapable of recognising any face. Disturbed and respectful, his family followed him, while the workers stared at one another in dumb amazement, before they attacked the bottles of beer which stood ready for the feast.

Upstairs Diederich was explaining his plans to his mother and sisters. The factory would have to be enlarged by taking in the house of their neighbour at the back. They would have to go into competition with their rivals. A place in the sun! Old Klüsing over there in the Gausenfeld paper factory probably imagined that he would go on forever getting all the business. … Finally Magda raised the question as to where he expected to get the money, but Frau Hessling interrupted her. "Your brother knows all about that better than we do." Cautiously she added: "Many a girl would be happy if she could win his heart."—Fearing his anger she pressed her hand to her mouth. But Diederich merely blushed. Then she had enough courage to kiss him. "It would be such a terrible blow to me," she sobbed, "if my son, my. dear son, went away from home. It is doubly hard for a widow. Frau Daimchen feels it too, now that her Guste is going to marry Wolfgang Buck."

"Perhaps not," said Emma, the elder girl. "They say that Wolfgang has an affair with an actress." Frau Hessling completely forgot to chide her daughter. "But where so much money is at stake! A million, people say."

Diederich said contemptuously that he knew Buck, that he was not normal. "It must run in the family. The old man also married an actress."

"The results are easily seen," said Emma. "You hear all sorts of things about the daughter, Frau Lauer."

"Children!" begged Frau Hessling nervously. But Diederich quieted her.

"That's all right, mother, it is high time to bell the cat. I take the view that the Bucks have long since become unworthy of their position in this town. They are a decadent family."

"The wife of Maurice, the eldest son," said Magda, "is nothing but a peasant. They were lately in town, and he, too, looked quite countrified." Emma was full of indignation.

"And what about the brother of old Herr Buck? Always so elegant, and his five unmarried daughters? They have soup brought from the public kitchen, I know that for a fact."

"Yes, Herr Buck founded the public kitchen," explained Diederich. "Also the Discharged Prisoners' Aid, and goodness knows what besides. I'd like to know when he has time to look after his own business."

"I should not be surprised," said Frau Hessling, "if he hadn't very much more business left. Though, of course, I have the greatest respect for Herr Buck. He is so well thought of."

Diederich laughed bitterly. "Why, then? We have all been brought up to honour old Buck. The great man of Netzig! Sentenced to death in Forty Eight!"

"But that was an historic service, your father always used to say."

"Service," shouted Diederich. "When I know that any one is against the government that is quite enough for me. Why should high treason be a service?"

Before the astonished women he launched into politics. These old Democrats who still led the regiment, they were a positive disgrace to Netzig! Unpatriotic slackers, at odds with the government! They were a mockery of the spirit of the time. Because old Judge Kühlemann was their representative in the Reichstag, and was a friend of the notorious Eugene Richter, business here was at a standstill and nobody got any money. Of course, there would be no railway connections or soldiers for such a radical hole. No traffic and no influx of population! The legal appointments were always in the hands of the same couple of families, that was well-known, and they passed round the jobs among themselves and there was nothing for any one else. The Gausenfeld paper factory furnished all the supplies for the town, for Klüsing, the owner, also be longed to old Buck's gang.

Magda had something else to add. "Recently the amateurs' show at the Civic Club had been put off because Herr Buck's daughter, Frau Lauer, was ill. That is simply absolutism." "Nepotism, you mean," said Diederich sharply. He rolled his eyes. "And into the bargain, Herr Lauer is a socialist. But Herr Buck had better look out! We shall keep a sharp eye on him."

Nevertheless he did not sleep well that night. By seven o'clock he was down in the factory and at once raised a row because the beer bottles of the day before were still lying about. "No boozing here, this is not a barroom. Surely that is in the regulations, Herr Sötbier?"—"Regulations?" said the old bookkeeper. "We have none." Diederich was speechless. He shut himself up with Sötbier in the office. "No regulations? Then, of course, nothing more can surprise me. What are those ridiculous orders on which you are working?" and he scattered the letters about on the desk. "It seems to be high time that I took charge. The business is going to the dogs in your hands."

"To the dogs, Master Diederich?"

"Doctor Hessling to you!"

He insisted that they should underbid all the other factories.

"We cannot do that for long," said Sötbier. "In fact we are not in position at all to execute such large orders as Gausenfeld."

"And you set up to be a business man? We'll simply install more machinery."

"That costs money," replied Sötbier.

"Then we'll get some! I'll bring some style into this business. Wait till you see. If you don't want to back me up, I'll do it alone."

Sötbier shook his head. "Your father and I always agreed, Master Diederich. Together we worked up this business."

"Times are changed, and don't you forget it. I am my own manager."

"Impetuous youth," sighed Sötbier as Diederich slammed the door. He walked through the room in which the mechanical drum, beating loudly, was washing the rags in chlorine and went into the smaller room where the large boiling machine was. In the doorway he unexpectedly met the blackbearded machinist. Diederich started and almost made way for him, but he brushed past him with his shoulder before the man could step aside. Snorting with impatience, he watched the machine at work, the cylinders turning and the knife cutting, which separated the material into threads. Weren't the people who attended the machine grinning at him slyly, because he had been frightened by that dark fellow? "He is an impudent dog! He must be fired!" A bestial hate arose in Diederich, the hatred of his fair flesh for the thin dark man of another race, which he would have liked to regard as inferior and which looked sinister. Diederich made a sudden movement.

"The cylinder is not in the right position, the knives are working badly!" As the hands merely stared at him, he yelled: "where is the machinist?" When the man with the black beard came along, Diederich said: "look how this has been bungled. The cylinder is much too close to the knives and they are cutting everything to pieces. I will hold you responsible for the damage."

The man bent over the machine. "No harm done," he said quietly, and again Diederich wondered if a smile was not hidden by that black beard. The machinist gave him a surly mocking look, which Diederich could not stand. He stopped blustering and simply made a gesture with his arms. "I hold you responsible."

"What's wrong now?" asked Sötbier, who had heard the noise. Then he explained that the rags were not being cut too fine, that they were always done in this way. The men nodded their heads in approval and the machinist stood there indifferently. Diederich did not feel equal to a discussion about his competence in such matters, so he shouted: "In the future, you will kindly see that it is done differently!" and he turned away.

He reached the rag room, and he recovered his composure as he watched with an expert eye the women who were sorting the rags on the sieve plates of the long tables. One little 'dark-eyed woman was bold enough to smile at him from beneath her coloured kerchief, but her glance met such a stony stare that she shrank back and bent upon her work. Brightly-coloured rags streamed out of the sacks, the whispering of the women was stilled under the master's eye, and in the warm stuffy atmosphere nothing else could be heard but the gentle rattling of the blades as they came down upon the tables and cut off the buttons. But Diederich, who was examining the hot water pipes, heard something suspicious. He looked over a heap of sacks—and started back, with blushing cheeks and quivering moustache. "Stop that now," he shouted, "come out here!" A young workman crept out. "The female, too!" shouted Diederich. "Look lively! " Finally, when the girl appeared, he struck an attitude. Nice goings on, indeed! Not only was the plave a bar room but it was something else! He swore so loudly that all the workers gathered about him. "Well, Herr Sötbier, I suppose this also has always been done in this way. I congratulate you on such success. These people are accustomed to waste my time amusing themselves behind the sacks. How did this man get in here?" The young man said she was engaged to be married to him. "Married? Here, we know nothing about marriage, only about work. You are both stealing my time, for which I pay you. You are swine and thieves. I shall give you both the sack and lodge a complaint against you for indecent conduct." He gave a challenging glance all around.

"In this place I insist upon German virtue and decency. Do you understand?" Then he caught the eye of the machinist. "And I will see that they are observed, whether you like it or not."

"I haven't made any objections," said the man quietly, but Diederich could not contain himself any longer. At last, he had got something against him.

"It is not my business to look after people," the man interrupted.

"You are very insubordinate and you have encouraged those beneath you in insubordination. You are preparing for the revolution. What's your name, anyhow?"

"Napoleon Fischer," said the man. Diederich stammered. "Nap— Well, I'm damned! Are you a Social Democrat?"

"I am."

"I thought so. You're fired."

He turned round to the others. "Remember what you have seen—" And he bounced out of the room. In the yard Sötbier ran after him. "Master Diederich!" He was greatly excited, and he would not speak until the door of the private office had been closed behind him. "This won't do," said the bookkeeper, "he is a union man."—"For that very reason he is fired," replied Diederich. Sötbier explained that it would not do, because all the others would strike. Diederich could not understand this. Were they all in the Union? No. Well, then. But Sötbier explained that they were afraid of the Reds, even the older people could not be relied upon.

"I'll kick them all out!" cried Diederich, "bag and baggage, with all their belongings!"

"Then it would be a question if we could get others to take their places," said Sötbier with a pale smile, looking from under his green eye shade at his young master who was knocking the furniture about in his rage. "Am I master in my own factory or not? I will show them—"

Sötbier waited until his rage had evaporated, then he said: "You need not say anything to Fischer, he won't leave us, for he knows that it would lead to too much trouble."

Diederich flared up again: "Really! So it is not necessary for me to beg him to have the kindness to stay. Napoleon the Great! I need not invite him to dinner on Sunday, I suppose? It would be too great an honour for me!"

His face was red and swollen, the room seemed to stifle him, and he threw the door open. It so happened that the machinist was just passing. Diederich gazed after him and his hatred made his impressions sharper than usual. He noticed the man's thin, crooked legs, his bony shoulders, and his arms which hung forward. As the machinist spoke to the men, he could see his strong jaws working underneath his thin, black beard. How Diederich hated that mouth and those knotted hands! The black devil had long since passed and still Diederich was conscious of his odour.

"Just look, Sötbier, how his arms reach down to the ground. He will soon run on all fours and eat nuts. Just you watch, we'll trip up that ape! Napoleon! The name in itself is a provocation. He had better look out for himself, for there's one thing certain, either he or I will go under."

With head erect, he left the factory. Putting on a morningcoat he made preparations to pay a call on the most important people of the town. From Meisestrasse, in order to reach the house of Dr. Scheffelweis, the Mayor, in Schweinichenstrasse, he had simply to go along Kaiser Wilhelmstrasse. He wished to do so, but at the decisive moment, as if by a secret agreement with himself, he turned aside into the Fleischhauergrube. The two steps in front of old Herr Buck's house were removed from the traffic of the passers-by, and always had been. The bell-handle on the yellow glass door caused a prolonged rattling noise in the empty interior. Then a door opened in the back ground and the old servant crept along the floor. But long before she could reach the outer door, the master of the house himself stepped out of his office and opened it. He seized Diederich, who bowed deeply, by the hand and dragged him in.

"My dear Hessling, I have been expecting you. I heard that you'd arrived. Welcome back to Netzig, my dear Doctor." Tears sprang into Diederich's eyes and he stammered.

"You are too kind, Herr Buck. I need hardly say, Herr Buck, that you are the first person on whom I wanted to call, and to assure that I am always—I am always—at your service," he concluded, smiling like a diligent schoolboy. Old Herr Buck still held him fast with his hand which was warm yet light and soft in its pressure.

"My service"—he shoved forward a chair for Diederich—"you mean, of course, the service of your fellow citizens, who will be grateful to you. I think I can promise you that they will shortly elect you to the Town Council, for that would be a mark of respect to a family which deserves it, and then"—old Buck made a gesture of dignified generosity—"I rely upon you to give us an early opportunity of seeing you raised to the bench."

Diederich bowed, smiling happily, as if he already had been raised to the honour. "I do not say," continued Herr Buck, "that public opinion in our town is sound in every respect"—his white beard sank onto his necktie—"but there is still room"—his beard rose again—"and God grant it may long be so, there is still room for genuine Liberals."

"I need hardly tell you I am thoroughly liberal," Diederich assured him.

Old Buck ran his hand over the papers on his desk. "Your lamented father often used to sit opposite to me here, and particularly at the time when he was building the paper mill. To my great joy I could be of use to him in that matter. It was a question of the stream which now flows through your yard."

Diederich said in a grave voice: "How often, Herr Buck, my father has told me that he owed to you the stream without which we could not exist."

"You must not say that he owed it only to me, but rather to the happy circumstances of our civic life." Looking earnestly at Diederich, the old gentleman raised his white forefinger: "But certain people and a certain party would like to make many changes as soon as they could." With deep feeling: "The enemy is at the gate; we must stand together."

A moment passed in silence, then in lighter tones and with a slight smile, he said: "are you not, my dear Dr. Hessling, in the same position as your father then was? Don't you want to extend your business? Have you any plans?"

"Certainly, I have." With great eagerness Diederich set forth what he would like to see happen. The other listened carefully, nodded, and took a pinch of snuff. … Finally, he said: "This much I can see; the alterations will not only cause you great expense, but under certain conditions, may give rise to difficulties under the city building laws, with which I, by the way, am concerned as a magistrate. Take a look, my dear Hessling, at what I have here on my desk."

Diederich recognised an exact plan of his property with that which lay behind it. His astonished face produced a smile of satisfaction in old Buck. "I have no doubt that I can see that no oppressive conditions are raised." And in reply to Diederich's profuse thanks: "We do a service to the whole communnity when we help on each one of our friends, for all except tyrants are friends of the people's party."

After these words he leant back deeper in his chair and folded his hands. His expression had relaxed and he nodded his head in a grandfatherly fashion. "As a child you had such lovely fair curls," said he. Diederich understood that the official part of the conversation was over. He took the liberty of saying, "I still remember how I used to come to this house as a small boy, when I used to play soldiers with your son Wolfgang."

"Ah, yes, and now he is playing soldiers again."

"Oh, he is very popular with the officers. He told me so himself."

"I wish, my dear Hessling, that he had more of your practical disposition … but he will settle down once I have got him married."