Henrietta Maria, the widowed queen of the unfortunate Charles I., was then residing at the French court. Her daughter Henrietta, as grand-daughter of Henry IV. and daughter of Charles I., was entitled, through the purity of her royal blood, to the highest consideration at the court. When, then, at a ball given for these unfortunate guests, the music summoned the dancers upon the floor, and the king, in total disregard of his young and royal cousin, advanced, according to his custom, to lead out the Duchesse de Mercœur, the queen was shocked at so gross a breach of etiquette, and, rising hastily, she withdrew his hand from that of the duchess, and said in a low voice, “You should dance first, my son, with the princess of England.” Louis replied sullenly, “I am not fond of little girls.” [Illustration: ANNE OF AUSTRIA AND CARDINAL MAZARIN.] Both Henrietta and her daughter overheard this discourteous remark. The English queen hastened to Anne of Austria, and entreated her not to attempt to constrain the wishes of his majesty. The position was exceedingly awkward for all parties; but the proud spirit of Anne of Austria was aroused. Resuming her maternal authority, she declared that if her niece, the princess of England, remained a spectator at the ball, her son should do the same. Thus constrained, the king very ungraciously led out the English princess upon the floor. After the departure of the guests, the mother and son had their first serious quarrel. Severely Anne of Austria rebuked the king for his shameful and uncourteous conduct. Louis faced his mother haughtily. “Madam, who is lord of France, Louis the king or Anne of Austria? Too long,” he said, “I have been guided by your leading strings. Henceforth, I will be my own master; and do not you, madam, trouble yourself to criticise or correct me. I am the king.” And this was no idle boast; for from that tearful evening of the queen’s ball to the day of his death, sixty-one years after, Louis of Bourbon, called The Great, ruled as absolute lord over his kingdom of France; and the boy who could say so defiantly, “Henceforth, I will be my own master,” was fully equal to that other famous declaration of arrogant authority, made years after in the full tide of his power, “_I am the state!_” But Anne of Austria was not the only one destined to feel the imperious will of the young sovereign. The Parliament of Paris refused to register certain decrees of the king. Louis heard of it while preparing to hunt in the woods of Vincennes. He leaped upon his horse, and galloped to Paris. At half-past nine o’clock in the morning, the king entered the Chamber of Deputies, in full hunting dress. He heard mass, and, whip in hand, addressed the body: “Gentlemen of the Parliament, it is my will that in future my edicts be _registered_, and not discussed. Should the contrary occur, I shall return, and enforce obedience.”