her by without bestowing the slightest attention, either on
her or her equipage: afterward he remarked her or her equipage; afterward
he remarked her horses,--"What a pretty phaeton!" said he, on meeting her
for the third time. At length he remarked the lady herself, but it was
merely to bestow a passing remark upon her beauty.

Madame d'Etioles, however, was not to be repelled; she continued to pass
before the eyes of the royal sportsman: "sometimes as a goddess from
Olympus, sometimes as an earthly queen; at one time she would appear in
an azure robe seated in a rose-colored phaeton, at another in a robe of
rose color in a phaeton of pale blue."[C]

[Footnote C: Soulavie, _Memoires Historiques de la Cour de France pendant
le faveur de Madame de Pompadour_.]

In after days, Madame de Pompadour recalling to mind all these
follies--serious though for her--said to the Prince de Soubise--"I can
imagine myself reading a strange book; my life is an impossible romance,
I cannot believe in it."

At Etioles, private theatricals were the fashion; Madame d'Etioles was
the Clairon, the Camargo, and the Dangeville of the troop, which counted
among its members some of the most illustrious personages of the day.
Marshal de Richelieu, who was to be found wherever gallantry flourished,
was an assiduous and constant spectator at these _reunions_. Madame
d'Etioles, it is said, endeavored on more than one occasion to entice the
king behind the scenes; but Louis, kept constantly in view by Madame de
Chateauroux, never once left the royal box.

Two summers thus passed away without Madame d'Etioles obtaining aught
from the king save a cold and distant glance, or a passing word or two;
and this, for a woman of her ambition, was not sufficient. She returned
to Paris at the close of the summer season, determined to change once
more her plan of attack. A good opening was now before her, for Madame de
Chateauroux was dead, the throne of the favorite vacant; not an hour was
to be lost, for, with Louis XV. who could tell how soon a successor might
be appointed?

The wished-for opportunity at length presented itself. In the month of
December, 1744, a series of magnificent _fetes_ were given at the Hotel
de Ville; the women were masqued. In the course of the evening Madame
d'Etioles succeeded in approaching the king,--

"Sire," she said, "you must explain to me, if you please, a strange
dream. I dreamt that I was seated on a throne for an