ecessary." [218]

Sully, in describing this scene, withholds all comment upon the King's
perfect confidence in the heart and intellect of his royal consort; but
none can fail to feel that the moment must have been a proud one for
Marie, in which she became conscious that the nobler features of her
character had been thoroughly appreciated by her husband. The vanity of
the woman could well afford to slumber while the value of the wife and
of the Queen was thus openly and generously acknowledged.

And truly did Marie de Medicis need a remembrance like this to support
her throughout her unceasing trials; for scarcely had the King recovered
sufficient strength to encounter the exertion than he determined to
remove to Paris; and, having intimated his wish to the Queen, immediate
preparations were made for their departure. They arrived in the capital
totally unexpected at nine o'clock in the morning, and alighted at the
Hotel de Gondy, where Henry took a temporary leave of his wife, and
hastened to the residence of Madame de Verneuil, with whom he remained
until an hour after mid-day; thence he proceeded to the abode of M. le
Grand, with whom he dined; nor was it until a late hour that he rejoined
the Queen,[219] who at once became aware that the temporary separation
between the monarch and his favourite, occasioned by the journey to
Metz, had failed to produce the effect which she had been sanguine
enough to anticipate.

Nor did Marie deceive herself; for, during the sojourn of the Court at
Paris, which lasted until the month of June, Henry abandoned himself
with even less reserve than formerly to his passion for the Marquise;
while the forsaken Queen--who hourly received information of the
impertinent assumption of that lady, and who was assured that she had
renewed with more arrogance, and more openly than ever, her pretended
claim to the hand of the sovereign--unable to conceal her indignation,
embittered the casual intercourse between herself and her royal consort
with complaints and upbraidings which irritated and angered the King;
and at length caused an estrangement between them greater than any which
had hitherto existed. There can be little doubt that this period of
Marie's life was a most unhappy one. Deprived even of the presence of
her children, who, from considerations of health, had been removed to
St. Germain-en-Laye, and who could not in consequence be the solace of
every weary hour, she found her only cons