'Sir Robert has behaved very ill,' she wrote; 'he insisted on my giving up my Ladies, to which I replied that I _never_ would consent, and I never saw a man so frightened.... I was calm but very decided, and I think you would have been pleased to see my composure and great firmness; the Queen of England will not submit to such trickery. Keep yourself in readiness, for you may soon be wanted.' Hardly had she finished when the Duke of Wellington was announced. 'Well, Ma'am,' he said as he entered, 'I am very sorry to find there is a difficulty.' 'Oh!' she instantly replied, '_he_ began it, not me.' She felt that only one thing now was needed: she must be firm. And firm she was. The venerable conqueror of Napoleon was outfaced by the relentless equanimity of a girl in her teens. He could not move the Queen one inch. At last, she even ventured to rally him. 'Is Sir Robert so weak,' she asked, 'that even the Ladies must be of his opinion?' On which the Duke made a brief and humble expostulation, bowed low; and departed. Had she won? Time would show; and in the meantime she scribbled down another letter. 'Lord Melbourne must not think the Queen rash in her conduct.... The Queen felt this was an attempt to see whether she could be led and managed like a child.' The Tories were not only wicked but ridiculous. Peel, having, as she understood, expressed a wish to remove only those members of the Household who were in Parliament, now objected to her Ladies. 'I should like to know,' she exclaimed in triumphant scorn, 'if they mean to give the _Ladies_ seats in Parliament?'