But although one lady after another, from that most bewitching of madcaps, Mademoiselle de Charolois, to the dark-eyed, buxom Comtesse de Toulouse, practised on him all their allurements, strove to awake his senses “by a thousand coquetries, a thousand assaults, the King’s timidity eluded these advances, which amused and alarmed, but did not tempt his heart; that young monarch’s heart was still so full of the aged Fleury’s terrifying tales of the women of the Regency.”

Such coyness, however, was not long to stand in the way of the King’s appetite for pleasure which every day strengthened.  One day it began to be whispered that at last Louis had been vanquished—­that, at a supper at La Muette, he had proposed the health of an “Unknown Fair,” which had been drunk with acclamation by his boon-companions; and the Court was full of excited speculation as to who his mysterious charmer could be.  That some new and powerful influence had come into the young sovereign’s life was abundantly clear, from the new light that shone in his eyes, the laughter that was now always on his lips.  He had said “good-bye” to melancholy; he astonished all by his new vivacity, and became the leader in one dissipation after another, “whose noisy merriment he led and prolonged far into the night.”

It was not long before the identity of the worker of this miracle was revealed to the world.  She had been recognised more than once when making her stealthy way to the King’s apartments; she was his chosen companion on his journey to Compiegne; and it was soon public knowledge that Madame de Mailly was the woman who had captured the King’s elusive heart.  And indeed there was little occasion for surprise; for Madame de Mailly, although she would never see her thirtieth birthday again, was one of the most seductive women in all France.

Black-eyed, crimson-lipped, oval-faced, Madame de Mailly was one of those women who “with cheeks on fire, and blood astir, eyes large and lustrous as the eyes of Juno, with bold carriage and in free toilettes, step forward out of the past with the proud and insolent graces of the divinities of some Bacchanalia.”  With the provocative and sensual charm which is so powerful in its appeal, she had a rare skill in displaying her beauty to its fullest advantage.  Her cult of the toilette, the Duc de Luynes tells us, went with her even by night.  She never went to bed without decking herself with all her diamonds; and her most seductive hour was in the morning, when, in her bed, with her glorious dishevelled hair veiling her pillow, a-glitter with her jewels, she gave audience to her friends.

Such was the ravishing, ardent, passionate woman who was the first of many to carry Louis’ heart by storm, and to be established in his palace as his mistress—­to inaugurate for him a new life of pleasure, and to estrange him still more from his unhappy Queen, shut up with her prayers and her tears in her own room, with her tapestry, her books of history, and her music for sole relaxation.  “The most innocent pleasures,” Queen Marie wrote sadly at this time, “are not for me.”