have been no tedium in the long drive through the Rue S. Jacques, over the Pont Neuf, and through the Rue S. Honoré to the Louvre, where the kindness of Queen Anne had caused apartments to be prepared for the royal guest. That afternoon deputations from the city of Paris and from the various sovereign bodies waited upon Henrietta, and the ceremonies of reception were concluded a few days later by a State visit to Notre-Dame, where the Queen of England gave thanks to Heaven for her safe return to France through the ministry of the young Coadjutor Bishop of Paris, the witty and dissolute churchman who afterwards became famous as Cardinal de Retz, and who always retained a kindness for the exiled royal family of England. Nothing could exceed the kindness and sympathy which were shown to the Queen, kindness all the more welcome because she was aware of the annoyance it would cause to her enemies. "I am so well treated everywhere that if my lords of London saw it, I think it would make them uneasy,"[310] she had written to her husband shortly after her landing in France. She was assigned a pension of 10,000 crowns a month, which enabled her to keep up a fitting establishment, and in addition to her lodgings at the Louvre she was given the Château of S. Germain-en-Laye, where she had played as a child, and where, half a century later, her son was to wear out a more desolate exile. Her own affairs prospered. Her health improved surely if slowly. She had the comfort of the presence of faithful servants--Jermyn, who acted as her secretary, Henry Percy and Lady Denbigh, who herself had tasted the full bitterness of civil strife in the death of her husband, who fell fighting for the King, and in the defection of her eldest son to the rebels, which sorrows bound her all the more closely to the Queen, who had shown the tenderest sympathy with her bereavement. Moreover, in Paris Henrietta found many friends. Familiar faces, indeed, were missed. The Bishop of Mende had not been given time to learn wisdom by experience, but had "made an angelical end" at the siege of Rochelle, dying in the same year as his enemy Buckingham. Madame S. Georges, who had found an honourable position as governess to the heiress of Montpensier, had passed away in 1643, and Louis XIII was gone, so that all his sister could do for him was to journey to S. Denys and to sprinkle his tomb with holy water. But old servants, such as the Bishop of Angoulême, were there to welcome her; and in the brilliant Paris of the day she came across not only friends of the past--M. de Chateauneuf, the Chevalier de Jars, and others--but new acquaintances, who soon became friends, of whom perhaps the most interesting was the accomplished Madame de Motteville, herself one of the band of exiles whom the death of Richelieu had brought back in triumph to the Court of France.