ng been made in public that she visited that pious
nobleman at his own house." An odd story (of American origin, and
quite unfounded) has it that, about this period, she established
contact with a certain Jean Francois Montez, "an individual of immense
wealth who lavished a fortune on her"; and Edward Blanchard, a hack
dramatist of Drury Lane, contributes the somewhat unhelpful remark,
"She became a Bohemian." Perhaps she did. But she had to discover a
second career that would bring a little more grist to the mill. Such a
course was imperative, since the balance of the L1000 her
step-father had given her would not last indefinitely. Looking round,
she felt that, all things considered, the stage offered the best
prospects of earning a livelihood. Not a very novel decision.
Nowadays, as an attractive young woman, with a little capital in her
possession, she would have had more choice. Thus, she might have
opened a hat shop, or run tea-rooms, or bred pet dogs, become a
mannequin, or a dance club hostess, or even "gone on the films." But
none of these avenues to feminine employment existed in the
eighteen-forties. Hence, it was the footlights or nothing.

[Illustration: _Lola Montez, "Spanish Dancer." Debut at Her Majesty's
Theatre_]

She had the sense to put herself in the hands of an instructress. The
one she selected was Fanny Kelly ("the only woman to whom Charles Lamb
had screwed up sufficient courage to propose marriage"), who conducted
a school of acting. Being honest, as well as capable, Miss Kelly took
the measure of the would-be Ophelia very promptly.

"You'll never make an actress," was her decision. "You've no talent
for it."

But, if the applicant had no talent, the other saw that she had
something else. This was a pair of shapely legs, which, as a
ballet-dancer, could yet twinkle in front of the footlights.

This opinion being shared by its recipient, she lost no time in
adopting it. As a preliminary, she went to Madrid. There, under expert
tuition, she learned to rattle the castanets, and practised the bolero
and the cachucha, as well as the classic arabesques and entrechats and
the technique accompanying them. But she did not advance much beyond
the simplest steps, for the time at her disposal was short, and the
art of the ballerina is not to be acquired without years of unceasing
study.

According to a French journalist, an "English Milord" made Lola's
acquaintance in Madrid. This was Lord Malmesbur