Elmo on our right, we swiftly
glided into the grand harbour of Valetta. We have been here so often
that it feels quite like reaching home. We soon found ourselves in our
old quarters in the Dockyard Creek, and had scarcely moored before one
of the officers came on board with the usual complimentary offers of
assistance, whilst directly afterwards came an invitation to a
farewell ball at the Palace, given to the Duke of Edinburgh. Our old
boatman, Bubbly Joe, took us ashore to dinner, and we found everything
looking as bright and cheerful and steep as it always does and always
will do; not the least bit altered or modernised. The landlord of the
Hotel d'Angleterre was delighted to see us again, and so were his
servants, who came flocking from all parts of the house, nearly
pulling the children to pieces, and plying our own servants with
questions in their anxiety to know all about us.
[Illustration: Faldetta, Malta.]
We had to go back on board the yacht to dress, and then return for the
ball, by which time I was so thoroughly tired, and had so bad a
headache, that I could not enjoy it much, pleasant as it was. Very
soon after supper we came away and had a charming row across the
harbour to our snug quarters on board the 'Sunbeam.' These sudden
bursts of dissipation on shore are a delightful change after days and
weeks at sea.
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