prepared for it. All she cared for was that Charles should give her a
cordial welcome; and this he did with effusiveness and open arms. Apart
from her character as ambassadress to his "dear brother" of France, she
was a new and piquant stimulus to his sated appetite--a "dainty dish to
set before a King."

She was installed at Whitehall to the flourish of trumpets; was
appointed maid-of-honour to the Queen, who frankly disliked and dreaded
this new rival in her husband's accommodating affection; and at once
assumed her position as chief of those women the King delighted to
honour. And with such restraint and discretion did she conduct herself
during these early days at Whitehall that she disarmed the jealousy of
the Court ladies, while receiving the homage of their gallants.

To Charles she was coyness itself--virtue personified. While smiling
graciously on him she kept him at arm's length, thus adding to her
attractions the allurement of an unexpected virtue. So jealously did she
guard her favours that the French Ambassador began to show alarm.

"I believe," he wrote at this time, "that she has so got
round King Charles as to be of the greatest service to
our Sovereign lord and master, _if_ she only does her
duty."

That Louise was fully conscious of her duty and meant to do it, was
never really in question--but the time to unbend was not yet. It was no
part of her clever strategy to drop like a ripe plum into Charles's
mouth. _Il faut reculer pour mieux sauter._ She would be accounted all
the greater prize for proving difficult to win.