manhood's prime;—

HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.

(Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg and Frau von Bethmann-Hollweg.)

She. You are late again, Theobald. How often must I——

He. Oh, please do not worry me, my dear Martha. After what I have been forced to go through it is a wonder that I am here at all.

She. What—have you been seeing him again? I thought he was away with one of the armies and you would be having a holiday.

He. So did I think; but it was not to be. Holiday, indeed! When do I ever get even a moment in which to think my own thoughts?

She. At any rate I hope he acknowledged what Germany owes to you. Where would he have been, I wonder, if it had not been for your constant devotion to his service throughout this terrible time? Does he realise what that has meant for him and his?

He. Kaisers never realise anything. That's my experience of one of them, at any rate. If you flatter them they smile on you and take all the credit of your work. But I am not cut out of that sort of wood, and the result is that he looks at me as if he had bitten into a lemon by mistake. You know that look, don't you?

She. Yes, my poor Theobald, I know that look. It makes everything black and uncomfortable. But if he is like that and does not consider your feelings, why do you continue to serve him? You should assert yourself, and if he does not improve you should send in your resignation. After all there are better things in the world than to be Chancellor to a man who does not appreciate your work.

He. Of course I have thought of that, but I have put the idea aside. If I were to resign now it would only give joy to my enemies, and they are the last people in the world to whom I wish to give joy. He won't get rid of me just yet, for he finds me too useful as a lightning-conductor. Still, I know that some day he'll give me a push by sending me a letter condoling with me on the state of my health, and then good-bye to the office of Chancellor.

She. And, for my part, Theobald, I hope that time will come soon, though I shudder to think what will become of the country when you go. However, we won't talk of that any more. Tell me rather what he has been saying to you to-day.

He. Oh, to-day he was displeased with my speech in the Reichstag.

She. Displeased with that beautiful speech so sun-clear and patriotic! Why, the man must be mad. Never in all my life have I read anything so patriotic and convincing. What does he complain of?

He. What does he not complain of? First, he is angry that I defend myself against attacks made in an anonymous pamphlet.

She. Then I am sure he wrote it himself or inspired it.

He. I have not the evidence to prove that, but it is, of course, possible. It would be just like him to play me a trick like that. But what chiefly provoked his anger was what I said about the naval battle.

She. Yes, I remember you said that England was not thereby defeated. If you will pardon me, Theobald, I myself thought that this was a rash statement.

He.