ichorean
honours. As it happened, that very morning he had received from Herr
Frays, the director of the Hof Theatre, a letter, telling him that, on
the advice of his _premiere-danseuse_, Fraeulein Frenzal, he had
refused to give her an engagement. Count Rechberg's florid description
of her charms, however, decided His Majesty to use his own judgment.
But he did not give in easily.

"Is it suggested," he demanded acidly, "that I should receive all
these would-be ballerinas and put them through their paces? They come
here by the dozen. Why am I troubled with such nonsense?"

"Sire," returned Rechberg, greatly daring, but with Lola's magnetism
still upon him, "you will not regret it. I assure you this one is an
exception. She is delightful. That is the only word for it. Never have
I seen anybody to equal her. Such grace, such charm, such ----"

"Pooh!" interrupted Ludwig, cutting short the threatened rhapsodies,
"your swan is probably a goose. Most of them are. Still, now that
she's here, let her come in. If she isn't any good, I'll soon send her
about her business."

Brave words, but they availed him nothing. Ludwig shot one glance at
the woman who stood before him, and capitulated utterly.

A sudden thrill passed through him. His sixty years fell away in a
flash. A river of blood surged through his sexagenarian arteries. His
boast recoiled upon himself. Rechberg had not deceived him.

"What has happened to me?" he muttered feebly. "I am bewitched." Then,
as the newcomer stood smiling at him in all her warm loveliness, he
found his tongue.

"Mademoiselle, you say you can dance. Well, let me see what you can
do. Count Rechberg, you may leave us."

"Do I dance here, in this room, Your Majesty?"

"Certainly."

Lola wanted nothing better. The opportunity for which she had been
planning and scheming ever since she left Paris had come at last.
Well, she would make the most of it. Not in the least perturbed that
there was no accompaniment, and no audience but His Majesty, she
executed a _pas seul_ there and then. It was a "royal performance,"
and eminently successful. Her feet tripped lightly across the polished
floor, and danced their way straight into Ludwig's heart.

"You shall dance before the public," he announced. "I will myself give
orders to the director of the Hof Theatre."

Luise von Kobell, when a schoolgirl, encountered her by chance just
after her arrival, and thus records the impression she received