Her other four sons would become officers.  Their father was preparing the ground so that they might enter the Guard or some aristocratic regiment without any of the members being able to vote against their admission.  The two daughters would surely marry, when they had reached a suitable age with officers of the Hussars whose names bore the magic “von” of petty nobility, haughty and charming gentlemen about whom the daughter of Misia Petrona waxed most enthusiastic.

The establishment of the Hartrotts was in keeping with these new relationships.  In the home in Berlin, the servants wore knee-breeches and white wigs on the nights of great banquets.  Karl had bought an old castle with pointed towers, ghosts in the cellars, and various legends of assassinations, assaults and abductions which enlivened its history in an interesting way.  An architect, decorated with many foreign orders, and bearing the title of “Councillor of Construction,” was engaged to modernize the mediaeval edifice without sacrificing its terrifying aspect.  The Romantica described in anticipation the receptions in the gloomy salon, the light diffused by electricity, simulating torches, the crackling of the emblazoned hearth with its imitation logs bristling with flames of gas, all the splendor of modern luxury combined with the souvenirs of an epoch of omnipotent nobility—­the best, according to her, in history.  And the hunting parties, the future hunting parties! . . . in an annex of sandy and loose soil with pine woods—­in no way comparable to the rich ground of their native ranch, but which had the honor of being trodden centuries ago by the Princes of Brandenburg, founders of the reigning house of Prussia.  And all this advancement in a single year! . . .

They had, of course, to compete with other oversea families who had amassed enormous fortunes in the United States, Brazil or the Pacific coast; but these were Germans “without lineage,” coarse plebeians who were struggling in vain to force themselves into the great world by making donations to the imperial works.  With all their millions, the very most that they could ever hope to attain would be to marry their daughters with ordinary soldiers.  Whilst Karl! . . .  The relatives of Karl! . . . and the Romantica let her pen run on, glorifying a family in whose bosom she fancied she had been born.

From time to time were enclosed with Elena’s effusions brief, crisp notes directed to Desnoyers.  The brother-in-law continued giving an account of his operations the same as when living on the ranch under his protection.  But with this deference was now mixed a badly concealed pride, an evident desire to retaliate for his times of voluntary humiliation.  Everything that he was doing was grand and glorious.  He had invested his millions in the industrial enterprises of modern Germany.  He was stockholder of munition factories as big as towns, and of navigation companies launching a ship every half year.  The Emperor