But the marriage meant the Princess Feodora's return to Germany and her
separation from the other members of her family, with the exception of her
brother, brought up in his own country. The bride, whom we hear of
afterwards as a true and tender woman, was then a sweet maiden of twenty,
whose absence must have made a great blank to her mother and sister.
Happily for the latter, she was too young to realise in the agreeable
excitement of the moment what a deprivation remained in store for her.
There were eleven years between the sisters. This was enough difference to
mingle a motherly, protecting element with the elder sister's pride and
fondness, and to lead the younger, whose fortunes were so much higher, but
who was unaware of the fact, to look up with affectionate faith and trust
to the grown-up companion, in one sense on a level with the child, in
another with so much more knowledge and independence.

It was a German marriage, both bride and bridegroom being German, though
the bride had been nine years--the difference between a child and a
woman--in England, and though the event occurred in an English household.
Whether the myrtle was worn for the orange-blossoms, or any of the other
pretty German wedding customs imported, we cannot tell. Anyhow, the
ordinary peaceful simplicity of the palace was replaced by much bustle and
grandeur on that February morning, the modest forerunner of another
February morning in another palace, when a young Queen plighted her troth.

The royal family in England, with two exceptions, were at Kensington Palace
to do honour to the marriage. The absent members were the King and Princess
Augusta--the latter of whom was at Brighton. The company arrived soon after
two o'clock, and consisted of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence, the Duke of
Sussex, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, the Princess Sophia, the
Princess Sophia Matilda of Gloucester, and Prince Leopold.