She was not invited by him again. Another actress lost his favour because, on a first visit to one of his palaces, she was looking so attentively at his paintings that she did not hear him enter the room, and consequently neglected to curtsey with deference. Mathilde Mallinger, the singer, was, on account of her magnificent voice, for a short time the recipient of his favours; but her ignorance of the forms of the great world soon repelled him. When one day she asked for an audience, his Majesty answered that he "only knew a court singer, Mathilde Mallinger, but no lady of that name; and therefore was unable to grant her an audience." No artiste was for so long a time or so high in his favour as Josephine Schefzky, one of the chief Wagner singers of her day. She was the daughter of a court official, and it was to members of the house of Wittelsbach that she owed the means for her artistic education. Already before her appearance Ludwig interested himself in this future star within the realms of song. Her studies completed, she was engaged by the Royal Opera of Munich; and after some years was appointed court singer. The King was usually present at the opera when she appeared, and she had often, moreover, the honour of singing privately before him, both in his capital and when he was living at one or other of his pleasure palaces. He had caused to be arranged in the Throne Room building of the Residenz a winter garden, to which he had direct access from his private apartments. Besides magnificent groups of exotics, the garden contained a grotto, with a little cascade, and a pool deep and broad enough for him to row on in a boat, the latter being formed like a swan. Dressed as Lohengrin he lived here in the world of fancy, for a few moments forgetting everything that oppressed his mind. His favourite singers sang fragments of Wagner's operas to him from behind groups of palms. Here Josephine Schefzky sang often. He permitted her to sail with him in his golden boat, and when one day she had sung the love-song from Tristan und Isolde, he suddenly struck up the air from Rigoletto: "La donna è mobile." This artiste, too, was vain enough to believe that he was in love with her. Many of the inhabitants of Munich expressed in fairly explicit terms their belief that a liaison existed between them. In reality, however, he was only her protector, who enjoyed her magnificent singing. So high a place in his esteem as that she was credited with, it may fairly be asserted was never hers. To his daily entourage he was in the habit of announcing her visits in the following words: "To-day the goose Schefzky shall come and sing again." One night she sang to him on the artificial lake in the winter garden. The boat was small. An incautious movement on her part caused it to careen. The King scrambled out of the pool with ease, though wet through. "Pull her out of the water," he called to a lacquey, as he disappeared rapidly into his own apartments.