"The Electoral Prince has power to command all his dependants."

Caroline laughed. He took her by the shoulder, his lower lip projecting in an ugly fashion, and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her.

"I've no doubt," she said. "But he should not make the mistake of trying to command those who are not."

"And you ... the penniless orphan "

"I am here at the wish of the Elector and Electress of Brandenburg who, let me remind you, have the power to command the Electoral Prince."

He laughed suddenly. "You have spirit for a girl who has nothing."

"How can I have nothing if I have my spirit?"

"Now, Caroline, you're being clever. Save that for old Leibniz and the rest. Don't try it on me."

"I admit it would be wasted."

He brought his face close to hers. **Now you're afraid I'm going to kiss you. Poor Caroline, who has never been kissed. You really are getting old for such ignorance. You want knowledge. Well, why not seek it."

She pushed him aside.

"Don't get ideas," he said. "My cousin Sophia Dorothea is ten times prettier than you. I wouldn't look at you when she was around."

Disturbing! Particularly as marriages were often made without the consent of the two concerned.

A storm cloud had appeared in the skies over Lutzenburg; one could not be young forever; one could not remain protected from the ugliness of the world under the cloak of an adored guardian. Change would come and Caroline was growing up.

There was nothing the Electress Sophia enjoyed more than a t^te-^-tete with her daughter. She admired Sophia Charlotte more than any living being and loved her more dearly than any of her children. Sophia Charlotte was not only beautiful and talented, she was wise.

The Electress Sophia could not see how she herself could better have handled her own life. She had not loved Ernest Augustus when she had married him and would have much preferred the man to whom she was first betrothed, the Duke of Celle, father of her ill-fated daughter-in-law Sophia Dorothea who was now a prisoner at Ahlden; but she had accepted Ernest Augustus and her rank and dignity had given her a certain power. All she had to do was let him go his way, let him keep his mistresses, never protest or show that she minded; and in return he accepted her position as Electress, as a Princess of royal birth, and she could have her will in all matters that did not clash with his desires. It was the kind of compact only an extremely wise woman could carry through; and she had done it.

Sophia Charlotte had one gift which her mother lacked: beauty. And this, the old Electress would be the first to admit, was a very valuable one. Because of it she had not to placate a

husband who preferred other women to herself; she was able to lead her own life as determinedly as Sophia had led hers, but with greater charm and dignity.

It was a pleasure to see her here in her magnificent palace; and the Electress was most proud of her daughter.

"And what do you really think of my Caroline?" asked Sophia Charlotte.

"I find her a pleasant creature and I am ready to love her because he*" companionship has made you very happy."

"Few have given me greater happiness than that girl. I brought her here because I thought it my duty. Oh, I took a fancy to her from the first, but I never thought that I should find in her the daughter I have always longed to have."

"If I stayed here I should love the girl even as you do. You have made her like yourself. The other day when I heard her talking out of sight, I thought it was you I heard."

Sophia Charlotte was delighted. "I have noticed it too."

"She begins to look like you, too. She imitates you. You wear a bow on your gown one day and she does the next."

"She is the dearest creature. Sometimes I wonder what I shall do if she ever has to go away."

"Marriage, you mean?"

"I sometimes look at her with fear. She is no longer a child. Many are married at her age. I suppose the day will come..."

"Yes," agreed Sophia, "the day will come."

"You are not thinking of her for Frederick William?"

"His father would never agree."

"Wouldn't you be able to persuade him? If I know you, my dear..."

"On all but state matters. Frederick William's marriage could be that."

"A blessing for Caroline."

"You are not favourably impressed by your grandson?"

"My dearest daughter, some of us are apt to be blind where our children are concerned but you have too much sense. He is unmannerly, arrogant, ungovernable."

Sophia Charlotte looked distressed, and her mother put her hand over her daughter's.

"It happens sometimes that our children disappoint us. I can

tell you I find my son George Lewis ... despicable. You and I are not the women to deceive ourselves, are we? If we are it makes a nonsense of all this fine talk we hear in these gardens of yours. No, we face the truth. There lies our strength. My eldest is a crude boor. Yours while not possessing the same deplorable characteristics has those equally bad. Face it, daughter."

"You have many children. Mother. I have only one. You were not disappointed in all."

"I had the best daughter in the world ... and so, it appears have you."

"Caroline is not my own flesh and blood."

"Now you are not being true to your theories. Caroline is all to you that any daughter could be. Are you going to love her less because you did not suffer torments to bring her into the world? Be rational. Isn't that what you say with your philosophers."

"You're right. Mother. Of what have I to complain while I have Caroline! But daughters leave their mothers when they marry—and it is that I fear, unless..."

The Electress smiled and looked absently towards the delightful fountain playing in the midst of Le Notre's magnificent handiwork.

My dearest daughter will have to face a great problem, she was telling herself. To keep her dear Caroline with her through marriage with a man, who might be considered one of the biggest catches in Germany, but is almost certain to be one of the worst husbands—or to let her marry outside and go away.

Sophia could picture her daughter, torturing herself with a hundred possibilities. Keep her and guard her? Or let her go away and possibly marry as unhappily as she would at home? It was certainly a problem. But then marriage was always a gamble; and Caroline could not be protected all her life. She must go out and face the world alone, which, Sophia was certain, Caroline would be able to do adequately.

What a pity, Sophia Charlotte was thinking, that time could not stand still and charming daughters always remain young and the dearest companions of their doting mothers!

A thought had come to the old Electress. At Hanover there was another grandson who would be needing a bride: George Augustus, son of George Lewis.

Now suppose Caroline were his bride; suppose she came to Hanover. Well, that would bring Sophia Charlotte often to Hanover; the young bride could visit Berlin frequently; and the Electress Sophia would have a daughter whom she could love and respect.

A very pleasant prospect for a woman who, as she grew older, felt a longing for young companionship and affection.

Being Sophia she said nothing as yet of this idea to her daughter. So while they sat together in one of those cosy and comfortable silences which only those who are in harmony can enjoy, Sophia Charlotte was thinking of Caroline's possible marriage to her son, while her mother explored the possibility of bringing Caroline to Hanover as the bride of George Augustus.