It was reasonable in the Princess to expect that having given up her right in the succession, the King and Queen should study to promote her comfort in all essential respects. Her father, at her marriage, had settled upon her a suitable annuity of thirty thousand pounds; and now that a fresh arrangement was to be made, Anne expected that a permanent and independent revenue would be secured to her. This was in the King’s power, the civil list amounting to no less a sum than six hundred thousand pounds a year. But William had no intention of making the Princess independent, if he could possibly avoid such a step; his policy was to keep her in subjection to himself and to her sister, in order, if possible, to insure her fidelity in times when no one around him was exactly to be trusted, and when he was obliged to pardon insincerity, and to be blind even to treachery.[161] The King even expressed some reluctance to continue to Anne the allowance which she had received,—a line of conduct which was viewed with just indignation by his sister-in-law, who had facilitated his Majesty’s accession to the throne by her compliance with his wishes, at the time of that revolution which had banished those whom she most loved from the crown. Stimulated by a sense of this injustice, and prompted by the Countess of Marlborough, Anne resolved to appeal to Parliament, knowing that in that assembly the Tories and the disaffected would warmly support her claims, as the ready means of producing dissension at court, and of rendering William unpopular.[162] Upon the report of Anne’s intentions being conveyed to the Queen, a scene truly singular, as occurring between two royal personages, both celebrated by historians for their moderation and discretion, took place in the heated atmosphere of that scene of faction, Kensington Palace. The Queen sought an interview with her sister, for the purpose, and to use the Duchess of Marlborough’s expression, “one night taking her sister to task about it;” commencing her attack by asking her what was the meaning of those proceedings. To which the Princess, somewhat evasively, replied, “she heard that her friends had a mind to make her some settlement.” The Queen, upon this reply, lost that command of herself for which she had hitherto been remarkable. “And pray, madam,” she thus addressed the Princess, “what friends have you but the King and me?” Anne felt the taunt deeply; and resented it with as much warmth as her nature could muster. The intimation of her dependence, conveyed in this speech, appears from the following remarks, penned by her friend and confidante, to have stung her severely. How characteristic of that sharp-sighted person is the sarcastic tone of the concluding remark!