existence, a lipstick
would probably have been added.

V

With her title and heraldic honours complete, plus a generous
allowance on which to support them, and a palace in which to live,
Lola Montez cut a very considerable dash in Munich. Two sentries
marched up and down in front of her gate, and two mounted orderlies
(instead of one, as had previously been the case) accompanied her
whenever she left the house in the Barerstrasse.

While by far the most important of them, Ludwig was not by any means
the only competitor for Lola's favours. Men of wealth and
position--the bearers of high-sounding titles--with politicians and
place-hunters, fluttered round her. It is to her credit that she sent
them about their business.

[Illustration: _"Command" Portrait. In the "Gallery of Beauties,"
Munich_]

"The peculiar relations existing between the King of Bavaria and the
Countess of Landsfeld," remarked an apologist, "are not of a coarse or
vulgar character. His Majesty has a highly developed poetic mind, and
thus sees his favourite through his imagination, and regards her with
affectionate respect."

This found a responsive echo in another quarter, and some sharp raps
on the knuckles were administered to the Bavarian moralists by a Paris
journal:

"Why do you interfere with the amours of your good Ludwig?
We don't say he should not have observed rather more
discretion or have avoided compromising his dignity. Still,
a monarch, like a simple citizen, is surely free to love
where he pleases. In selecting Lola Montez, the amorous
Ludwig proves that he loves equality and, as a true
democrat, can identify himself with the public. Let him
espouse his servant girl, if he wants to. Personally, we
would rather see the Bavarians excite themselves about their
constitution than about the banishment of a royal favourite.
The King of Bavaria turns his mistress into a Countess; his
subjects refuse to recognise her; and a section of the
students clamour for her head. Happy days of Montespan, of
Pompadour, of Dubarry, of Potemkin, of Orloff, where have
you gone?"

In the summer of 1847 the Paris Courts were occupied with a long
outstanding claim against Lola Montez. This was to the effect that,
when she was appearing at the Porte St. Martin, she had run up a bill
for certain intimate undergarments and had neglected to settle the
account. The result was, sh