joked about her and her lover as well as George Lewis, the Electoral Prince, and his mistress. He had boasted rather sentimentally too about his own success with George Lewis's neglected wife, the beautiful Sophia Dorothea.

Now the Count was dead. No one knew how he had died or what had become of his body; but everyone seemed certain that he was dead. It had been discovered that he was the lover of Sophia Dorothea. As for this sad Princess, George Lewis was going to divorce her and make her his prisoner, and declared he would never see her again.

Caroline thought a good deal about Sophia Dorothea and compared her with her own mother, for they had both found great tragedy in marriage. It was alarming to consider that one day—not far distant—she would be grown up and marriageable. Then she would doubtless be obliged to embark on this perilous adventure.

Because she was so curious she ventured to speak of the matter to Sophia Charlotte when they walked together one day in the gardens. She was puzzled; she would like to understand more.

"Who is wrong," she asked. "George Lewis or Sophia Dorothea?"

"So you have heard of this scandal?"

"They talk of it all the time. Not to me, of course. They whisper when they see me near. And that, of course, makes me all the more curious to know."

"Naturally, it would. Tell me what you know."

She told and Sophia Charlotte smiled.

"I see," she said, "that you are by no means ignorant of the ways of the world. From what I have heard George Lewis is a brutal young man, Sophia Dorothea a frivolous and foolish woman. Who then would you say was to blame if disaster overtakes them."

"Both of them?"

"You are wise, Caroline. I am sure both of them is the answer. Although we must remember that even though the blame is shared, the punishment is not."

"She will suffer more than he will."

"She is less powerful, poor creature."

"Could she have avoided this ... trouble?"

"We could by certain actions avoid all our troubles."

Caroline considered this. Yes, even her mother. She need not have married the Elector of Saxony. Perhaps if she had wept less and fought more for her rights ... In any case Sophia Charlotte thought so, and she must be right.

"I daresay you have heard a garbled story," said Sophia Charlotte. "It would be better for you to know the truth. After all, though you are only eleven years old you are much older in wisdom, I know."

Caroline glowed with happiness and taking Sophia Charlotte's hand kissed it.

"My dearest child," murmured Sophia Charlotte deeply moved. "Well," she continued briskly. "George Lewis is a man ... not unlike your late stepfather. There are many like him. It is a pattern of our times. He turned from his wife to other women. She found that intolerable and took a lover. The result—the mysterious disappearance of the lover and punishment for the poor Princess."

"It seems so unfair when he began it and she only did what he did."

"Life is unfair, my dear. More so for women than for men. He took his mistresses as a natural right. Such is the custom. But when she took a lover she dangered the succession. You see what I mean. But of course you do. That is the answer."

"So she was more to blame."

"It is not for us to blame. She was foolish, poor soul; and folly often pays a higher price than greater sins."

"What should she have done when he took his mistresses? Should she have accepted them. My mother ..."

"Your mother was not a proud woman like this Princess. Your mother accepted the position . . . and you see here she is alive and living in peace while her husband and his mistress are dead."

"But that was by accident."

"Life is made up of accidents, luck if you like—good and bad—but often our own actions can decide the course our lives

will take. If Sophia Dorothea had accepted her husband's mistresses, if she had not quarrelled with him ..." Sophia Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows what would have happened."

"So one should accept?"

"One should try to discover what is the wisest way for one's own advantage."

"I see," said Caroline.

Sophia Charlotte covered the girl's hand with her own.

"I believe you do," she said.

Even^ while the Brandenburgs were visiting her Eleanor had to take to her bed. The Dresden interlude had undermined her health and it could not be expected that even though the threat to her life was removed she would easily recover.

Sophia Charlotte visited her in her bedchamber and sent away her servants.

"I have become deeply attached to Caroline," she said.

"That pleases me more than anything else could."

"I know you are anxious for her future. Your son will doubtless be secure in Ansbach but it is little Caroline who worries you."

Eleanor nodded. "I sometimes feel so weak, that I know I have not long to live."

"Nonsense, here you will recover. But..."

"But?" asked Eleanor eagerly.

"If anything should happen to you, you need not fear for Caroline. You know I love the child as my own daughter. My husband and I would be her guardians and she would have a home with us."

"Oh ... how can I thank you! "

"You shouldn't. I love your daughter. It would give me the utmost pleasure to have her with me, to educate her, to launch her in life. And ... I don't forget, Eleanor, that you met John George in Berlin ... that we persuaded you to the match."

"It is all over now "

"It must have been ... a nightmare."

Eleanor stretched out a thin veined hand. "It is over and if

you will make yourselves Caroline's guardians I shall die contented.''

"Then it is done."

"And the Elector?"

"He is with me in this."

Eleanor lay back on her pillows. Now, she thought, I can die in peace.

Eleanor lingered for two years in peaceful retirement at Pretsch; and on her death her eleven year old son went to Ansbach to live with his stepbrother, the Margrave, and thirteen year old Caroline to her joy was sent to Berlin to live at the Court of Sophia Charlotte and her husband.

Suitors and Tragedy for Caroline

There followed the happy years. Life at Liitzenberg offered even more than Caroline had dared hope for; here were pleasures which she had not known existed. There was luxury to compare with that of the Dresden court but here it went hand in hand with good taste and the adventures were those of the mind.

Sophia Charlotte had attracted to Liitzenburg some of the most interesting men of the age. Her wit and charm, her unusual intelligence, and her power over the man who was one of the most important Electors in Germany sent them flocking to her court.

Her love of everything beautiful was evident in the castle. She had collected together pictures and exquisite furniture, some of the latter inlaid with porcelain, crystal, ivory and ebony. Everything in the castle was rare and beautiful; but in spite of its grandeur ostentation was avoided.

There was no other castle in Germany where so many interesting people gathered; and the reason was due to the mistress of Liitzenberg. Here came men of diverse religious

opinions—Catholics, Protestant, and Freethinkers. There was nothing Sophia Charlotte enjoyed more than to bring these men togiether, encourage them to discuss their views, and herself join in the discourse. Philosophers, historians, artists, literary men, all came to her salons, wandered in her gardens, talked learnedly with each other; and it was Sophia Charlotte's hope that one day because they had been able to meet at her home they would discover some way of welding the various versions of Christianity together and make a more tolerant society in which men and women could discuss their ideas freely without fear.