There was a great _fete_ of
the peasants on Prince Albert's birthday, with much waltzing, and
shouting, and beer-quaffing, and toast-giving. The whole visit was an
Arcadian episode, simple and charming, in the grand royal progress of
Victoria's life. But the royal progress had to be resumed--the State
called back its bond-servants; and so, after a visit to the dear old
grandmother at Gotha--the parting with whom seemed especially hard to
Prince Albert, as though he had a presentiment it was to be the last--
they set out for home. They took their yacht at Antwerp, and after a
flying visit to the King and Queen of France at Eu, were soon at Osborne,
where their family were awaiting them. The Queen wrote: "The dearest of
welcomes greeted us as we drove up straight to the house, for there,
looking like roses, so well and so fat, stood the four children, much
pleased to see us!"
Ah, often the best part of going away is coming home.
During this year the Royal Family were very happy in taking possession of
their new seaside palace on the Isle of Wight, and I believe paid no more
visits to Brighton, which was so much crowded in the season as to make
anything like the privacy they desired impossible.
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