"I've work to do," he said.

"But this project of a wife for George Augustus?"

"It'll be taken care of when I'm ready."

He caught his foot in a stool and kicked it aside. The door shut behind with a bang.

She should have waited, Sophia reproached herself. She had been too upset as yet.

There was no time to be lost, and she feared her reckless handling of the situation had spoilt any hope there might have been.

George Augustus was in his apartments in the Leine Schloss trying on a wig while his servants fluttered round him.

**This is most becoming, Your Highness. The colour is your own."

"Yes ... yes..." muttered George Augustus, looking at his neat, almost pretty face. "That is good." He fondled the tight curls of the wig. It gave him height. One of the great disappointments of his life was his lack of inches. "Another four and I'd be passable; another four on top of that and I'd be tall," he often thought. As it was, it could only be exasperating that the heir of Hanover was so much shorter than most other men about him. More so was the fact that he was not allowed to do anything that a man of his age should be doing. His father went off to the wars every year, but was George Augustus allowed to go? Certainly not. One day he would be the Elector of Hanover. But would his father allow him to take part in government and prepare himself? No! He hated his father and he was sure his father hated him.

His sister Sophia Dorothea came into the room. She was seventeen, more than three years younger than he was, and very pretty. Their mother's daintiness which they had botli inherited looked well enough in her.

There was a bond between them. When they were young he had told her why they never saw their mother and they planned together how they would rescue her.

Now he dismissed his servants because he guessed she had something secret to say to him. Sophia Dorothea could never hide anything and she was clearly excited.

As soon as they were alone, she said: "Our father has gone to Herrenhausen. He is not in a good temper."

"Is he ever?"

"Yes," giggled Sophia Dorothea, "when he retires with the tall Malkin."

"No, he's in a better temper with the Platen woman."

"But he prefers the other from habit." She looked over her shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder whether he ever thinks of our mother. It was here that it happened ... in this very Schloss."

"Much he cares about her. But what have you to tell me?"

"Why has our grandmother asked him to go to see her at

Herrenhausen? His company will hardly help her to recover. It must be something important, mustn't it?"

*'I daresay."

"Then what?"

"I've no idea."

"Well, I have an idea. And I think I'm right. It's about you."

"About me. He's going to let me go with the armies after all!"

"Of course not. You're a son ... the only son. You can't be allowed to go to the wars until you've got a son. Now I'm sure ... being just a little bit like our revered father you may have one ... two or even three by now ... but they aren't legitimate and so they can't be the heirs of Hanover. Why, if Father was to die and you were to die, what would happen to Hanover?"

"What are you driving at?"

"George Augustus, you're dense! You spend too much time admiring your pretty face. Our grandmother wants you to be married ... soon. She wants you to produce the heir which will make it possible for you or our father to be killed without calamity to the house."

"I see. But you have a pleasant way of putting it."

"It's being brought up here. Father sets us such an example in finesse and diplomatic conversation."

"I believe you hate him as much as I do."

"I have to be in the fashion. Everybody hates him ... except the tall Malkin and fat hen and of course Madam von Platen."

"What have you heard?"

"I've heard a little and deduced much. That's feminine intuition, brother. You don't believe in it—nor does father. Mind it isn't your downfall. It's time you married. It's time we both married. Father is too busy being a soldier and a lecher to remember this. But as Grandmother is neither, she does. She is talking to him now about your matrimonial prospects."

"You're romancing."

"One has to introduce romance somehow into this dreary place. Poor Mamma! I wish I could remember her. They say she was lovely. I wonder if she still is. I saw a picture of her once. She was in a simple white gown with flowers ... real flowers draped about her head. She was not wearing

jewels ... and she was so beautiful. How could he! How could he!"

*'I remember her at the window. She stood there with the tears falling down her face ..."

Sophia Dorothea threw her arms about her brother's neck. "You tried to rescue her. My dear brave George Augustus."

"I was too young and silly. I didn't plan well enough. What was the use of escaping from a hunting party and riding to Ahlden. I thought I'd capture her and ride away with her."

"It wasn't so silly. You could have taken her to Wolfenbiittel. They would have helped there."

"It might have started a war. One doesn't think of these things."

"Well, if I'd been there I'd have helped you. And so would Grandmother Cellc. Poor sad Grandmother Celle! She is the only one who ever sees our mother. She tells her all about us, George Augustus ... the things we say. I send my love to her and yours too. What right had he to take our mother from us?"

"It's all done with now...."

"Done with. When she's there ... in that prison. What must it be like to be sent to prison and kept there for years and years and years ... just because you took a lover. He had Schulem-burg then."

"He thought it was different for him. And so it was."

"George Augustus, don't tell me that. If my husband is unfaithful to me I shall be unfaithful to him! "

"So you think you're going to have a husband too?"

"Of course. They wouldn't leave me unmarried. And I'll tell you something. I know who it is."

"You must have your ear to every keyhole."

"I wouldn't stoop to such indignity."

"Your intuition?"

"Partly. I shall be the future Queen of Prussia."

"What. You'd marry Frederick William?"

"And why not? What better match could I make? I shall not be far from home ... and a Queen, George Augustus. Think of that."

"I'm thinking of Frederick William. I shouldn't have

thought he would have fitted in with your romantic fancies. His manners are as bad as our father's."

"That would be quite impossible. I like Frederick William and he likes me. I know you and he fought. I know you hate him. But I like him ... and he liked me. In fact he said he would marry me.'*

*'You're inventing that."

"I'm not. But that is for the future. First they will find a wife for you and I think I know who she will be."

"Who?"

"Caroline of Ansbach."

"Caroline of Ansbach, but..."

"Aunt Sophia Charlotte treated her as a daughter. Grandmother liked her too. I wouldn't mind taking a bet that Aunt Sophia Charlotte travelled here to talk to Grandmother about the marriage. Why else should she have come in the bad weather and died here?"

"I don't think this Caroline would be considered suitable."