As the months passed, it became daily more apparent that, so long as Henrietta’s French attendants remained in England, there could be no hope of a good understanding between husband and wife. The Queen’s ladies taught her to look upon the English of both sexes with distrust and dislike. Her priests fomented by every means in their power the indignation with which Charles’s broken promises in regard to his Catholic subjects had inspired her, and encouraged her to make an ostentatious display of her devotion to the observances of her Church. When, on February 2, 1626, Charles’s coronation took place, they persuaded her, not only to refuse to be crowned with him, but even to decline to assist at the ceremony, though a latticed place in the church had been made ready for her. Her absence involved that of Blainville, the French Ambassador, which was regarded as a serious affront to the sovereign to whom he was accredited, and did not serve to increase the cordiality between the two Courts. When Henrietta was with her ladies she was as gay and light-hearted as might have been expected from one of her age and nation. Her ill-humour was reserved for her husband, in whose presence she gave herself the airs of a martyr. Charles’s patience was rapidly becoming exhausted; more than once he thought of “cashiering his Monsers,” as he expressed it, of packing the whole company back to France; but the marriage treaty protected them, and for a time he held his hand. Fresh disputes soon arose. The Queen desired to nominate some of her French attendants to take charge of her jointure, to which Charles refused to consent. One night, after the royal pair were in bed, high words passed between them. “Take your lands to yourself,” exclaimed the angry wife. “If I have no power to put whom I will into those places, I will have neither lands nor houses of you. Give me what you think fit by way of pension.” Charles took refuge in his dignity. “Remember,” said he, “to whom you speak. You ought not to use me so.” The Queen declared that she was miserable; she had no power to place servants, and business succeeded the worse for her recommendation. She would have him to know that she was not of that quality to be used so ill. She continued in this strain for some time, refusing to listen to her husband’s explanations. “Then,” wrote Charles afterwards, in giving an account of the scene to Carleton, for the information of the French Government, “I made her both hear me and end this discourse.” An incident which occurred at the end of June, 1626, brought matters to a climax.