LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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