door of the duke's dressing-room. Without going through the formality of an announcement, or making known her presence by a knock, the duchess unceremoniously pushed open the door, while the scarcely half-dressed duke gazed at the intruder in amazement.

Without deigning to apologize for her abrupt entrance, the sister-in-law bounced herself into a chair, and having remarked that she had come on important business, asked suddenly: "Where is your wife?" The Duke of Zell had not recovered his composure sufficiently to reply, but pointed to the adjoining chamber, through the open door of which a large bed was visible, where, beneath the covers, Duchess Eleanora lay safely ensconced, wondering what could have prompted so early a visit. But although she strained her ears to listen, she was not soon to be gratified; for "Old Sophia," who had begun her interview in French, at once changed to German, when she remembered how imperfectly the Duchess of Zell understood that language.

The less she comprehended of the argument that the wife of Ernest Augustus was so impressively setting forth, the more did she endeavor to catch a word here and there; and when she heard the name of her daughter coupled with that of George Louis again and again, she began to understand as well as though the whole case had been put in her own native tongue.

The Duke of Zell was easily convinced, particularly as he had never favored his daughter's marriage with the brother of her dead lover; and the mother of George Louis eloquently set forth the advantages to be derived from a union between the heir of Hanover and the heiress of Zell, adding the possibility of Sophia Dorothea some day becoming Queen of England. The clever sister-in-law completely dazzled her listener with all the bright hopes she held out, and returned to Hanover after having obtained the Duke of Zell's solemn promise that he would break off his daughter's match with her lover, and bestow her hand upon George Louis.

That morning's work rendered three people miserable,—the loving mother, the young girl, and the lover, whose happiness was sacrificed to increase the territory of one heartless man and to gratify the ambition of another. The duke loved his daughter; but all her prayers, sobs, and entreaties failed to weigh against his sinful ambition. He turned a deaf ear to his wife, too, who assured him that their child detested George Louis, and that he had neither respect nor affection for her. It was a pitiable case, for had the people who planned this hateful match set out with no other motive than the breaking of a young girl's heart, and the utter destruction of all her bright hopes, they could not more thoroughly have succeeded.

It would be needless to follow all the arrangements and make-believe courtship that followed the visit of Duchess Sophia, and it would be too painful to recount the sufferings of the poor child of sixteen, who, with her heart filled with the image of the man she had promised to marry, was forced to give her hand to one of the least attractive creatures she had ever beheld.

Suffice it to say that the marriage between George Louis of Hanover and Sophia Dorothea of Zell was celebrated with unusual splendor, on the twenty-first of November; and the Electress Sophia congratulated herself on the success of her undertaking. She had brought about the marriage that was deemed advisable. The bride's toilet was superb, and every detail of the nuptial festivities was carried out with more than ordinary pains; what cared she then, though the tear-stained face of the bride told of her sufferings? She had achieved a triumph, and that was sufficient; for the Electress Sophia was not honorable enough to feel that any wrong had been done to the deserted lover of her niece, and she was never known to hesitate to employ any means, just or otherwise, for the attainment of her ends. Yet she was a woman much admired in society, witty, brilliant in conversation, and handsome. Men of ability were pleased to talk with her, and she was remarkable for her logical style of argument, often coming off victorious in the war of words. Even Leibnitz, the great German philosopher, was proud of her friendship, and often laughingly said of her "that she not only invariably asked why, but the why of whys." He meant that she would accept no reason that she did not clearly comprehend. In this respect she is certainly worthy of imitation.

But to return to the little bride. The parting from her mother was a sore trial to both, and one from which the latter never recovered, for she always appeared like a person bowed down beneath the weight of a great sorrow. As for the daughter, she went to Hanover, where for a time she was at least less unhappy than at any future period of her life. Her husband treated her shamefully from the first, but she did not love him enough to be wounded by his neglect, and she found solace in the regard shown her by her father-in-law, Ernest Augustus, who esteemed her very highly.

A.D. 1683. Another comfort that Sophia Dorothea had in course of time was a little boy, who was born on the thirtieth of October, 1683. He was named George Augustus, and many years later ascended the throne of England as George II. In 1684 a little daughter was added to the family. She was named for her mother, and like her brother ascended a throne, but it was as the wife of a King of Prussia.

A.D. 1684. She had contrived to win the good opinion of Ernest Augustus as well as his wife, both of whom regarded her as an ornament to their court. They treated her with a great deal of consideration, and no doubt sympathized with her because of the selfish, brutal behavior of their son towards her. But Ernest Augustus was so indiscreet as to praise her on several occasions, and that was more than Madame von Platen could stand. He even went so far as to consult her, and such a proceeding filled the soul of Madame, the prime minister, with hatred.