The Queen's depression was natural. The excitement and novelty of her journey and her enthusiastic welcome had buoyed her up at first, but now these were over she felt the reaction. She was a stranger in a strange land, separated from every one she had ever known, and she suffered from homesickness. A closer acquaintance with her husband obliterated the favourable first impression she had formed of him. He was a disappointment. The flattering despatches which the English envoys had sent to London (some of which we have quoted) credited him with every physical and mental endowment, and portrayed him as a paragon among princes. These encomiums, duly communicated to the Princess-Dowager, had been dunned into Matilda's ears with such persistency that she thought she was marrying a prince who was almost a demi-god, and who gathered up into himself all the attributes of the legendary heroes of Scandinavian romance. What then must have been her disappointment when she found that her husband resembled a French _petit maître_, rather than a son of the Vikings. To add to her disillusion Christian made hardly any show of affection for his wife, and after the first few days treated her with open indifference. A week after their marriage the royal couple gave a banquet at the Christiansborg Palace, and it was noticed by the company that already the bloom had faded from the young Queen's cheeks, and she smiled with evident effort. Her sadness increased from day to day, and she often gazed at the ring her mother had given her, with its inscription, "May it bring thee happiness," and sighed heavily. The King, who wished for nothing but to be amused, was piqued by his consort's despondency, and so far from making any attempt to comfort her, relieved his feelings by satirical remarks. One day when one of his favourites called his attention to the Queen's sadness, he said: "What does it matter? It is not my fault. I believe she has the spleen." The King's indifference to his Queen was quickly noticed by the courtiers, who took their cue accordingly, and treated her as a person of little account. Ogier, the French envoy at Copenhagen, reported to Paris three weeks after the marriage: "The English Princess has produced hardly any impression on the King's heart; but had she been even more amiable she would have experienced the same fate, for how could she please a man who seriously believes that it is not good form (_n'est pas du bon air_) for a husband to love his wife?"