what is called a splendid man, of noble bearing, and
of chivalric devotion to the fair. The duke, boundlessly rich,
displayed great magnificence in Paris. He danced with the queen,
fascinated her by his openly avowed admiration, and won such smiles in
return as to induce the king and Cardinal Richelieu almost to gnash
their teeth with rage.

This flirtation, if we may not express it by a more emphatic phrase,
created much heart-burning and wretchedness, criminations and
recriminations, in the regal palace. In August, 1628, the Duke of
Buckingham, then in England, terminated his wretched and guilty life.
He fell beneath the dagger of an assassin. Anne, disdaining all
dissimulation, wept openly, and, secluding herself from the gayeties
of the court, surrendered herself to grief.

A mutual spirit of defiance existed between the king and queen. Both
were wretched. Such are always the wages of sin. Ten more joyless
years passed away. The rupture between the royal pair was such that
they could scarcely endure each other. Louis himself was the first to
inform the queen of the news so satisfactory to him, so heart-rending
to her, that a dagger had pierced the heart of Buckingham. After this
they met only at unfrequent intervals. All confidence and sympathy
were at an end. It was a bitter disappointment to the queen that she
had no children. Upon the death of the king, who was in very feeble
health, her own position and influence would depend almost entirely
upon her having a son to whom the crown would descend. Louis resided
generally at the Castle of Blois. Anne held her court at the Louvre.

A married life of twenty-two years had passed away, and still the
queen had no child. Both she and her husband had relinquished all hope
of offspring. On the evening of the 5th of December, 1637, the king,
having made a visit to the Convent of the Visitation, being overtaken
by a storm, drove to the Louvre instead of Blois. He immediately
proceeded to the