owly crystallized and they grew
to look upon her as a leader, who one day would show them the path out
of bondage. Her correspondence grew to enormous proportions, but she
answered every letter, fully determined by this time to accomplish
something more than a name in letters while incidentally amusing herself
with stirring up the women and annoying the men. But although clubs were
formed to discuss her work and letters, they were still unsuspected of
the arrogant men who controlled the destinies of Germany. And as the
German woman is the reverse of frank, as little indication of the slow
revolution was found in the home. The solution was as far off as ever,
but German women are patient and they bided their time, exulting in
their secret. It gave them a sense of revenge and power.

Then came the war.

II

1

Gisela, like all the good women of Germany, flamed with patriotism and
righteous indignation. Russia and France with no provocation, with no
motive but insensate ambition on the one hand and a festering desire for
revenge on the other, had crossed the sacred frontiers of the great
Teutonic Empire. A French aviator had dropped bombs on Neuremburg, one
of the artistic treasures of Europe, although, mercifully, his bombs had
inadvertently been filled with air. Then followed the even more
indefensible act of Great Britain, whose only motive in joining forces
with paper allies was to aim a blow at the glorious commercial prestige
of Germany, the object of her fear and hate these many years.

Gisela immediately entered the hospital opened by her mother in Berlin
and took a rapid first-aid course, concentrating upon the work all the
fine powers of her mind and strong young body. Literature, fame,
propaganda among women, all were dismissed. Although victory was certain
in a few months there would be many thousands of wounded and she was
filled with a passionate desire to serve those heroes and martyrs of
foreign hatred. She forgot her personal experience of the German male,
forgot herself. Her beloved Fatherland was attacked, and the German male
in his heroic resistance, his triumphal progress, was become a god.
_Dienen! Dienen!_

She had no time to ponder upon the violation of Belgium and knew nothing
of the curious escape of medieval psychology from the formal harness of
modern times. She was engaged in hard menial labor during those first
weeks and it was sufficient to know that Germany had been violated.