Jacques de Nowell du Perron, a nephew of the famous Cardinal of that name, who had had much to do with the conversion of the Queen's father, came to London as the successor of the Bishop of Mende, but no two men could have been less alike, and perhaps du Perron was selected because Richelieu had learned by experience that "surtout point de zèle" was a sound maxim in dealing with heretics. Certainly the second Grand Almoner of Henrietta Maria was as much liked as the first had been detested. A man of the softest manners, "neutral in every question whatsoever,"[120] as a stronger spirit said of him with a touch of contempt, he knew not only how to keep the favour of the French authorities who had sent him to England, but how to win that of Charles, whom he charmed by his flow of interesting talk, and of the Protestant public, who so respected the regularity of his life and the moderation of his conduct, that even on the eve of the Civil War he was regarded "as among the hated the least so."[121] There were moments when his task of serving many masters was difficult, as when his courtier's soul was vexed because, by obeying Henrietta's commands to officiate at a service of welcome to her mother,[122] he offended his patrons in Paris; but in the main his conduct met with its due reward. It was no small tribute to his tact and prudence that he so far obliterated from the mind of Charles the memory of the Bishop of Mende that he permitted him, in 1637, to accept the Bishopric of Angoulême without forfeiting his position as Grand Almoner of the Queen. He went off to France to be consecrated, and returned to England with all the dignity of episcopal rank. It fell to the lot of this courtly ecclesiastic to officiate at one of the most picturesque ceremonies of Henrietta's London life. Among the unkept stipulations of the marriage contract was a provision for the building of a chapel for the Queen's use. Henrietta, at her first coming, had been obliged to content herself with a small and mean room in which her chaplains, as best they might, celebrated divine service. It was not until 1632[123] that she had so won her husband's heart as to wring from him by prayers and caresses, and sometimes even by tears, permission to build a church for her Capuchins, which should be at once a memorial of her religious zeal and a thank-offering for her married happiness, which now had been crowned by the birth of her little son.