her, had assuredly never fallen and become despised creatures, if they had early been able to look up and onwards to some noble and available destination for which they could live and labour every day. How dark and narrow is the space which man allots to woman in this world! and when she feels it, when the hearth becomes too narrow for her, how lonely and unprotected is she in the great world outside. Besides which, how few are the women, and how happy the circumstances must be for them, who become all that they might and ought to be, in comparison with the mass who live and die imperfect human beings not one half or quarter developed. And I, who condemn them so severely, what am I myself but an imperfect outline of a human being? and it is only my combatting against the condition that causes it, nothing else, which gives me any respect for myself. Because I know it-I might be something different, something more!"

use.

"And you will be that yet," said Alma, "because you are not of the common class, and your rich and beautiful gifts cannot be extinguished or grow rigid for want of I have a feeling within me, Hertha, that you have yet much that is beautiful to experience and to live for. Some time-some time I will speak to our father about you and the little girls. He wishes, after all, our best interests; he loves us in his way."

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So also does the slave-owner his slaves and serfs, and it is, only out of care and regard for them,' that he refuses them their freedom. I am weary, Alma, of so much and such useless talk about love and love. I wish people would say less about love and more about justice, true justice especially that they practised it more in the world. For injustice is the root of all want of love, of all evil. Without justice there can be no true love, neither can it be preserved. There was a time, when I was a child, when I loved my father very much; when

I looked up to him as to a higher being, and even now it sometimes happens, when I have seen him sitting there with his strong, handsome features, like an old, deposed king, as now when he is ill, that my heart has been drawn towards him with wonderful power,-I would give a great deal to be able to love him, and to be loved by him; but, already, whilst I was yet a child, he taught me to fear him, and since then, now that I understand his selfishness, his injustice-I have lost all faith in him, all desire to do that which he wills, and I feel at times much more likely to hate than to love him. Every day the relationship between us becomes more and more bitter."

"And yet, yet it ought to be so different. Wait, my sweet Hertha, wait yet awhile; I have an impression on my mind that a change is about to take place,—my -mind is in such an extraordinary state this evening, sad, and yet cheerful!-But, Hertha, I will now speak to you about something else-beseech something from you."

"Ah, tell me what it is. Anything which you wish, and which is in my power I will do."

"I want to talk to you about Rudolph. Sweet Hertha, do not be too friendly with him. I very well understand the reason of your kindness to him, but he may mistake the motive, and fancy it proceeds from quite another cause."

"He is not very wise, poor lad; he has never seemed to me to be quite sharp; but then our father has been so severe and violent towards him. Through all the five years that he has lived in this house he has never once had a kind word, nor a kind glance, nothing but scolding and reproaches. Besides, he is always hard at work, and very seldom enjoys any leisure. One would be sick to death of such a life! And he always looks so melancholy and ready to hang himself; I have felt that he really needed a little sisterly kindness and care."

"Yes, if he would only take them in the right way. But he is evidently in love with you, and ever since the day when you rushed to him, and he saved you from the drunken man, he seems to think that he must be near you. This makes me uneasy. It looks as if he thought he had a right to be your protector."

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"And that he has perfectly," replied Hertha, laughing, "when it comes to saving me from a drunken man.

He

is tall and strong, and on that occasion behaved stoutly and courageously. I fancy even that since that time he has been more lively and cheerful, and has seemed to have more self-reliance. Ah, it is such a good thing to win the esteem of those nearest to us, to be able to do something for them. Do not be uneasy, dear Alma, about Rudolph and me. He is like a poor plant which has grown up in the dark, and which requires light to obtain its right colour and form. Let me be the light to him. We are almost brother and sister, and the poor fatherless and motherless lad has no one in all the world who cares or thinks about him. There is in him a certain raw strength which, properly developed, may make a man of him. And even if he did for a time mistake my feeling for him, the mistake cannot last long; I am neither handsome nor agreeable enough to be dangerous to any man's peace, and I become less and less so every day."

"You do not understand. You may be more dangerous than many a more beautiful woman to him, who sees you in your daily life.”

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So say you, who were, and indeed still remain to be, my only beloved lover. But I will do as you say, Alma. I will be circumspect with Rudolph. Poor Rudolph!

"Thanks! How beautiful your hair is! there are wonderfully lovely golden rays in it when the light falls upon it sideways, as now."

"I will take great care of it, too, for your dear eyes' sake."

"My eyes thank you for doing so; it does them good. What time is it?"

"It is near twelve."

"Then I may take my opium drops; otherwise I know that I shall not sleep."

"I will give you them. Thank God for these friends, which make us forget life and its misery. This has been a bitter day to me: now I will take a sleeping draught with you, and with you wander into the land of dreams. Perhaps we may there obtain the knowledge of why we live, for we cannot do so here."

And Hertha took the same number of drops as she had given to her sister, and lay down by her side on the bed.

"Will you not undress?"

"No: what is the use of continually dressing and undressing for no purpose whatever. I am weary with this eternally the same and the needless. Besides, I shall perhaps in my dreams wake up his Majesty, and have to make a speech for the captives; and then all at once it might occur to me that I was undressed in case-I were So. But now I am ready for whatever adventure befalls."

"Yes: dream now some really remarkable dream, which you can afterwards tell to us and to the king. Good night; but let me lay the coverlet over you. So then." "Do you feel yourself better now?"

"Yes, much better. I fancy that I shall have a good night."

(6 Thank God! Kiss me. Good night, my Alma! Alma mine! Alma, thou my Alma! Pray God for me, and for us all!"

The two sisters laid their arms round each other, and soon were soundly asleep, and Hertha dreamed a remark. able dream.

HERTHA'S DREAM.*

It seemed to her that she was a soul newly born to earth. She was reposing in the granite mountain as in her cradle. She saw herself, as though the body was a transparent, ethereal form for the soul, and in the soul she saw the clear heart, with its wonderful system of ventricles and arteries, through which the life throbbed along warm crimson paths, and far within it burned a flame, which now rose and now sank, now seemed dimmer, now clearer, but evidently striving upward, as if seeking for a freer space.

It was morning, and the sun rose brilliantly upwards. She rejoiced in the light of the sun, and drank a greeting to it from small beaker-like leaves with purple edges, which stood around her cradle filled with bright drops of dew. Her heart beat with longing for light and life. From her little nook in the bosom of the granite mountain, where she lay upon a soft bed of moss, she saw the heavens bright above her head, and the hills and valleys of the earth spreading far around. She saw a lofty, glorious, verdant tree, whose branches stretched over the whole earth, and even up to heaven; they were laden with beautiful fruit, and she heard voices singing from the tree-top in the words of the old Finlandie proverb

Listen to the tree top's whispering,

At whose root thy home is planted!

A clear fountain gushed murmuring upwards, not far

* The prevision of this dream will not fail to strike our readers as extra