Apropos of this too celebrated Anglo-Spanish woman, have you heard that King Louis of Bavaria has demanded the sacrifice of her theatrical career? and that he is keeping her at Munich (where he has bought her a house) in the quality of a favourite Sultanah? Later on, he returned to the subject: I have been specially pleased with a couple of allusions to Lola and this poor Mariette; but, to be perfectly candid--and being afraid that you would find the subject a little indecorous--I began to reproach myself for having mentioned it to you in my last letter from Czernowitz. In speaking of Lola, you tell me that you defend her (which I do also, but not for the same reasons) because she stands for progress. Then, a page further on, in resuming the subject at Vienna, you find me very young to still believe in justice, not realising that, in this little circle of ideas and things, I represent in Europe a progressive and intelligent movement. "Alas! Who represents anything in Europe to-day?" you enquire with Bossuet. Well, then, Lola stands for the nineteenth century, and Daniel Stern stands for the woman of the ninth century; and, were it not for having contributed to the representation of others, I too shall finish by representing something else, by means of the 25,000 francs of income it will be necessary for me to end up by securing. CHAPTER IX "MAITRESSE DU ROI" I The role for which Lola cast herself was that of La Pompadour to the Louis XV of Ludwig I. She had been a coryphee. Now she was a courtesan. History was repeating itself. Like an Agnes Sorel or a Jane Shore before her, she held in Munich the semi-official and quite openly acknowledged position of the King's mistress. It is said of her that she was so proud of the title and all it implied, that she would add "Maitresse du Roi" to her signature when communicating with understrappers at the palace. Ludwig, however, thought this going too far, and peremptorily forbade the practice. Lola gave way. Perhaps the only time on record. In return, however, she advanced a somewhat embarrassing demand. "My position as a king's favourite," she said, "entitles me to the services of a confessor and a private chapel." Ludwig was quite agreeable, and instructed Count Reisach, the Ultramontane Archbishop of Munich, to select a priest for this responsible office. His Grace, however, reported that all the clergy in a body had protested to him that, "fearing for their virtue, they could not conscientiously accept the post."