The Old Baggins Place was one of the oldest smials in Hobbiton, the property of Frodo's aged Aunt Dora. Dora Baggins lived there with her niece, Peony Burrows, Peony's husband Milo, and their four children. Angelica had also been a resident of the house for awhile before her marriage, when her parents had sent her to help look after the old lady in hopes that Dora would leave the Old Place to her.
As he walked up to the Old Baggins place that day, Frodo thought how little had changed since his visits there last year. The four little Burrowses were playing on top of the smial, but came running down to greet him with eager shouts and hugs when he came in at the gate. Peony met him at the front door, kissed his cheek, said that the family was just having their tea, and brought him into the best parlor, where Dora sat in her overstuffed favorite chair by the fireplace. Angelica sat on a tuffet beside her great-aunt, and Milo was standing at the hearth, leaning with his elbow on the mantelpiece. The only difference from the old days was that Dora was not knitting, but dandling Angelica's baby and cooing over Willa delightedly.
"What a pretty little darling you are! What a precious thing!" Then she looked up to find him. "Frodo, dear boy, how wonderful to see you! I heard you were coming to tea today. Do come in, please. Sit down!"
Frodo sat down in the chair on the other side of the fire, and smiled as he said, "How are you, Auntie? I'm glad to see you've been won over." He knew that Angelica's marriage to Lad had been a great disappointment to Aunt Dora, but Willa was apparently making up for it.
"Oh, what's done is done, I always say, and Angelica's made her choice," Dora replied generously. "At least she's had a lovely baby--golden curls, and such beautiful big, blue eyes! I'd always hoped to see my Angelica have children with eyes as blue as her own... or yours, dear Frodo. What luck that the sweet little mite hasn't taken after her father!"
Milo ducked his head down into the curve of his elbow, and made a choked sort of sound that might have been a cough or a desperate effort not to laugh.
Dora looked up at him with concern. "Are you catching a cold, dear?"
"No, Auntie," Milo answered in a constrained voice. "Only something in my throat."
"It's all that smoking you gentlemen do. Peony ought to take better care of you. A nice cup of chamomile tea with honey will fix you up." Dora gave the baby to its mother, and rose to go to the kitchen. "I'll make it for you while the water's still hot."
"Auntie, you needn't on my account-"
"Nonsense, dear. It's just the thing for a cough. Mind you drink it instead of the usual tea today."
"Yes, Auntie," Milo surrendered and, once the old lady had left the room, laughed out loud.
"Uncle Milo," Angelica said reproachfully.
"I'm sorry, my dear, but it was too funny." Milo was still chuckling. "Aunt Dora never gives up, does she? It's a lucky thing poor Lad wasn't here to hear her! I wager she'll still be saying such things even after you and he have been married ten years and have a dozen children."
"They'll have to have twins or triplets to manage that," said Peony, who had come in with the tea tray while her husband was speaking. She set the tray down on the low table between the two chairs and poured out cups of tea, giving one to Frodo first. "It's good to see you up and around, Frodo, after you've been ill for so long. Are you investigating again?
"As a matter of fact, I am," Frodo answered as he took the cup.
"I heard you've been to visit Mother," said Milo.
"Yes, that's right. A friend of hers has asked me to locate a person, the lady's daughter-in-law, who's gone missing."
Milo, his wife, and Angelica exchanged glances. "You mean Cammie Stillwaters," said Peony.
Frodo nodded. "Has the news reached Hobbiton already?"
"Not all of it," Peony answered. "We've only heard that she's gone and no one knows to where. And when Angelica came this morning and said she'd gotten a letter from you from Budgeford, asking to meet her here, we wondered if you'd been engaged to find the girl."
"I thought Angelica might be of help. You're Camellia's best friend--you don't have any idea where she might be, do you?" Frodo turned to ask Angelica, who shook her head. "When did you last hear from her?"
"About three weeks ago," said Angelica. "She wrote me to say that she was coming to visit her aunt and uncle next week--last week, that would be now--and would I meet her here in Hobbiton? She said she would write again once she'd arrived... but I never had another word from her. I assumed that she'd been delayed and would write again soon, until I heard the news that she was missing. I'm glad you're looking for her, Frodo." She glanced at her own aunt and uncle. "We all want to help. What can we do?"
"I'd like to talk to the Bilburys," Frodo explained. "They're friends of yours, aren't they?"
"Friends of Ponto's and Porto's," said Peony, referring to her elder brothers, "but we know them."
"Can you arrange an introduction for me? I'd like to ask them about their niece, but I'd rather not have them know that I'm investigating the matter yet."
Peony nodded knowingly; she had helped Frodo to get into other hobbits' homes before.
"We can manage it," Angelica said confidently.
Dora returned with the chamomile tea, which Milo sipped even though he didn't like the taste of chamomile. After they chatted awhile of other things, Angelica put the baby down for a nap and Peony gave her children their tea in the kitchen. Milo invited Frodo into the garden to smoke; Dora shook her head disapprovingly as the two gentlemen went outdoors.
"Peony and 'Gelica are very keen to get involved in this investigation of yours," Milo said as he lit his pipe. "They're worried about the missing girl, of course, but I remember how excited Peony was when she helped out in that business with the lost jewelry last autumn. I imagine you want to do the same sort of thing now, and they'll do their best to get you into the Bilbury house--and go with you. Is there anything I can do?"
"Actually, Milo, there is," said Frodo. "I didn't just come to see Angelica. I wanted particularly to ask you about Camellia's husband, Val Stillwaters. You know him quite well, don't you?"
"As well as I want to," Milo answered after a moment's hesitation.
"You used to be friends, but you've quarreled. Merry and Pippin tell me that you went out of your way to avoid Val when you saw him at the Lithetide races."
"So, Merry and Pippin are acting as your spies and carrying tales again." But Milo spoke without rancor; he sounded almost amused. "You'll have all your relatives working for you before this is at an end. Well, I've nothing to hide with regard to Val Stillwaters. There was no quarrel, Frodo. I simply grew sick of the sight of him. Why do you what to know?"
"I'd like to learn what sort of hobbit he is," Frodo explained. "It might tell me what's happened to his wife."
Milo laughed. "Oh, I can tell you just what sort of hobbit Val is! After that business with Lotho, you know the worst of my excesses. Val's are at least as bad. We were quite close friends when we were lads. His father and mine used to take us to the Bridgefield races together. Val was the one who first encouraged me to wager more than I could afford to. He said a gentleman never gave a thought to his money or how he spent it. And he was right--you don't, until you haven't got a penny left. Then it becomes very important. I didn't mind it so much when I was a young lad and answerable to no one but myself, but after I married Peony and had a family to provide for- You know how that turned out. I've finally got myself out of that pit, but it's best that I stay clear of Val hereafter. I would have hoped that a good, sensible wife might bring him to his senses, as Peony's helped me, but if you're suggesting that Cammie's left Val over his gambling..." Milo studied Frodo's face speculatively for some clue as to his thoughts.
"I don't suggest it," said Frodo, "but I wondered if it had something to do with it."
"It's possible, certainly, but I think that if she's gone away over that, she would've returned to her aunt and uncle's house. Where else would she go? Unless," Milo looked over Frodo's face again, "I remember there was something about a boy, before Cammie married, that the aunt and uncle didn't approve of. Angelica could no doubt tell you all about it."
"Yes, she could," Frodo murmured. Poor Camellia. It was beginning to look as if neither choice, lover or husband, was very promising for her happiness. He had no idea what advice he would give when he found her.
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