From New York Lola proceeded to New Orleans, that queer old city of creoles and canals.
“A Canadian named Jones,” relates De Mirecourt, “acted as her agent, and as there was reason to fear that in this deeply religious state, her scandalous history might dispose the public against her, the following plan was devised.
“It was reported in the Louisiana journals that the Countess of Landsfeld, who had recently arrived in America, was distributing alms in abundance to the poor, the sick, and the captive, to make amends for her misspent life.
“This announcement having taken some effect, the newspapers went on to inform the public that the famous Countess was shortly about to enter religion; the best informed went so far as to name the day on which she would take the veil.
“But on the appointed day, behold a third and startling item of news!
“Señora Lola Montez, yielding to that instinct of inconstancy so strong in her sex, is announced to have chosen the Opera instead of the Cloister.
“That evening the theatre was crowded to suffocation, and the following days the receipts were enormous.”
De Mirecourt, who pronounced young Heald’s desire to marry Lola in due and proper form, idée d’Anglais, must be allowed his sneer. We who know in what spirit the adventuress ended her career, and to what strange impulses she was subject, may hesitate to dismiss her momentary attraction to the cloister as a mere advertising manœuvre. The woman was disillusioned, sore at heart, and world-weary; her restlessness bespeaks a mind ill at ease; her beauty showed signs of fading, she had no home, no ties, no kindred. It is likely that for a moment her resolve to end her days in the supposed tranquillity of the convent was genuine enough. It passed; as yet the joy of living was too strong in her to be crushed down.