unselfish love and devotion of a woman make a happier state of things possible; Sudermann is a firm believer in the power and influence of good women in human life. His women are not so sharply outlined as Ibsen's, but he recognises in the sex, though much more vaguely, like possibilities. For example, Leonore in Die Ehre sees the folly and emptiness of fashionable life and has the courage to give her hand where she loves, to a man who, by her set, would be considered far beneath her. Magda, in Heimat, refuses to desert her child. And his young girls are even more charming, more natural than those of Ibsen. Eager-hearted Dina Dorf, with her desire for a larger life in the world; hard-working Petra Stockman with her delight in her work and her unflinching truth and honesty; Bolette Wangel with her desire for knowledge, "to know something about everything" are, as everybody knows, among Ibsen's most delightful creations. In Es War Sudermann gives us as perfect and natural a study of a young girl as we have met with in fiction or the drama for a very long while. Hertha cherishes a secret love for a man much older than herself but has reason to fear that his affections are set on a married woman, the wife of his best friend. To Hertha's innocent and unworldly mind this is a great puzzle; to her the sacredness of love between husband and wife seems a matter of course.

"Certainly the beautiful woman was a thousand times lovelier than poor Hertha--and she was, moreover, much cleverer.... But could she--and therein lay the great puzzle, the invincible contradiction that knocked all suspicion on the head--could she as a married woman possibly be an object of love to a man other than her husband? Wives were loved by their husbands--that is why they are married and by no one else in the world."

But Hertha determines to take such means as are within her power of discovering if suck things are possible, if such things exist. She first consults her books--books, of course, suited to a young girl's library. She goes through her novels, but nothing in them points to the enormity. Then she turns to the classics, to Schiller!

"Amalie was a young girl--so was Luise--but then there was the queen of Spain! However, in that case it was clear as noonday how little poets deserved to be trusted, for that a man should fall in love with his stepmother could only take place in the world of imagination where genius, drawn away from the earth, intoxicated with inspiration, soars aloft. Not in vain had she, a year and a half before, written a school composition on 'Genius and Reality,' in which she had treated the question in a most exhaustive manner."

She next tries her friend Elly, a girl of her own age, but much more experienced in the ways of the world.

"'Listen, dear, I want to ask you a very important question. You're in love, aren't you?'

"'Yes'; replied Elly.

"'And you're sure the man's in love with you?'

"'Why do you say "man"?' asked Elly. 'Curt is my ideal. A little time ago it was Bruno--and before that it was Alfred--but now it's Curt, Yet he's not a man.'

"'What is he, then?'

"'He's a young man.'

"'Oh! that's it, is it? No, he's certainly not a man.' And Hertha's eyes shone: she knew what a 'man' looked like. 'Well, darling,' she went on, 'do you think that a "man," or a young man--it's all the same--could possibly love a married woman?'

"'Of course--naturally he would,' replied Elly, with perfect calmness.

"Hertha smiled indulgently at such want of intelligence.

"'No, no, little one,' she said. 'I don't mean his own wife, but a woman who is the wife of another?'

"'So do I! replied Elly.

"'And that seems to you quite a matter of course?'

"'My dear child, I didn't think you were so innocent! said Elly; 'everybody knows as much as that. And formerly it was even worse. A true knight always loved another man's wife: it was a great crime to love his own wife. He would cut off his right hand for the stranger's sake, and would die for her, pressing her blue favour to his lips; for you see at that time they always wore her blue favour. You'll find it in every history of literature.'

"Hertha became very thoughtful. 'Ah! in those days!' she said, with the ghost of a smile; 'in those days men went to tournaments and stabbed each other in sport with their lances.'

"'And to-day,' whispered Elly, 'men shoot each other dead with pistols.'

"Hertha felt as if she had been stabbed to the heart, and the little pink and white daughter of Eve continued, 'I think it must be quite delightful when one is married to know that some one is hopelessly in love with you. It's quite certain that most unhappy love affairs arise in that way.'

"The next day Hertha questioned her grandmother.

"'Grandmother, I'm grown up now, aren't I?'

"'Yes--so, so,' answered the old lady.

"'And probably I shall soon be married.'

"'You!' shouted her grandmother, in deadly terror. Doubtless the wretched child had come to confide in her the addresses of some booby of a neighbour.

"'Yes.' continued Hertha, inarticulately and with great hesitation; 'with my big fortune I am not likely to be an old maid.'

"'Child!' exclaimed the old lady, 'of whom are you thinking?'

"Hertha blushed to her neck. 'I?' she stammered, trying to preserve an indifferent tone of voice, 'of nobody.'

"'Oh, then you were merely talking generally?'

"'Of course; I only meant generally'

"'Well, and what do you want to know?'

"'I want to know--how it is with--you understand--with love when one----'

"'When one----'

"'Well, when one is married?'

"'Then you go on loving just as you did before.' replied her grandmother, lightly.

"'Yes, I know that. But suppose you love another man to whom you aren't married?'

"'Wha--t!' In her terror the old lady let her spectacles fall off her nose. 'What other?'

"Hertha suddenly felt as if she must collapse. She had to summon all her courage and pull herself together in order to go on.

"'Can't it happen, grandmother dear, that some one to whom you're not married takes it into his head----'

"'My dear child' replied the grandmother, 'never come to me with such foolish questions. You cannot understand such things. Now give me a kiss and get your knitting.'"

So that plan did not answer. There was still one further possibility of discovery. Hertha had a school friend who had lately got married. She would ask her. So she began:--

"'Wives love their husbands, that goes without saying. But do you think it possible that wives can be loved by other men?'

"'How odd you are', replied Meta. 'You can't prevent people loving.'

"'I know that. But a man, don't you see, who would----'

"'Well, that sort of thing does happen.'

"'What! is some one in love with you?'

"Meta blushed, 'I don't bother about it. It's quite enough that Hans loves me, and of course I should very politely forbid anything of the sort.'

"'Then people do forbid such things?'

"'Certainly, if they're told of it.'

"'What! you might be told?'

"'Sometimes, if the man who is in love with you is very bold.'