Angelica came to Bag End late the next morning, dressed in her best lace blouse, a skirt and bodice of robin's-egg blue, and a flowered bonnet with long ribbons dangling down her back.
"It's been arranged," she announced when Frodo, who'd been keeping an eye out for visitors, answered the door. "You and I are going to pay a call on the Bilburys. Aunt Peony wanted to go with us, but little Minto isn't feeling well, so she's stayed home to look after him. I've promised to tell her about it when we return. Papa will accompany us instead. He'll lend a touch of respectability to our visit, and the Bilburys won't suspect a thing. He doesn't approve of your investigating, but I've explained how important this is, and he's agreed to take us." Angelica looked over her cousin's comfortable old trousers and shirt. "Go and get dressed, Frodo. Something nice and presentable- Oh, hello, Sam." She turned with a smile as Sam came into the front hall to find out what was going on. "How is Rose?"
"She's doing wonderful well, Mrs. Whitfoot..." Sam began to answer as Frodo excused himself and went to his room to change. Sam joined him a few minutes later, after Rosie had come out to speak to Angelica herself.
"I didn't know Mrs. Angelica was going with you today," Sam grumbled as he went through Frodo's wardrobe to find a clean, pressed shirt and pick out a paisley waistcoat. "You didn't say a word about it, nor asked me to come along."
Frodo smiled at the faint note of jealousy he heard his Sam's voice. "Angelica's the best person to be of help in this case. Our missing lady is her friend, and she knows the family. As long as she's willing to help, I'll let her do as she likes." He put on and buttoned the shirt Sam handed him. "Besides, you know how you hate paying social calls."
Sam conceded that he did.
"Admit it: you'd much rather be here at home with Rosie than wearing your velvet coat and sitting with me in some stranger's parlor." Frodo put on his waistcoat, and gave Sam a quick kiss. "I may stop for lunch at Aunt Dora's if I'm asked, but expect me back in time for tea." And he went out to join Angelica, who was waiting in the sitting room.
"I didn't like to say so in front of Aunt Peony and Uncle Milo," Angelica said as they walked together to the other side of Hobbiton, "but Cammie's run off with that boy, hasn't she?"
Angelica was not only Camellia's friend and his assistant now; she had brought him into this in the first place. Frodo decided that she had a right to know the whole truth. "Yes. Her mother-in-law has asked me to find her, as discreetly as possible, and convince her to come home before there's a scandal."
His cousin nodded solemnly. "I thought it must be so. I must say, I'm relieved to hear it is that, rather than that something horrible has happened to her."
"Do you think the Bilburys know, or suspect?" Frodo asked.
"They won't admit to it if they do. It'd be acknowledging a family disgrace!" Angelica took his arm. "Frodo, I have a favor to ask. You mean to ask the Bilburys if they've heard from Cammie, or know where she is, don't you? Will you let me begin? It won't look so odd if I ask questions about Cammie as if I'm concerned for her--which I am. If Cammie's aunt and uncle have any secrets to hide, it'd only put them on their guard if you start out of the blue."
Frodo consented.
They arrived at a pair of smials next to each at the foot of the Hill, each with a round, red door, as alike as two ripe cherries. Ponto Baggins and his wife lived in one; Ponto's brother Porto and his wife lived in the other. The brothers too were round and red-faced, and very much alike. Ponto, Angelica's father, was generally acknowledged to be the most solid and respectable, Bagginsy Baggins of his generation, with Porto a close second. Both brothers and their wives were at home when the young hobbits arrived. They all kissed Angelica and greeted Frodo with sincere warmth, but he could see that they knew of his plans and did not approve.
Ponto made his opinion of the matter plain. "I don't agree with this mystery-solving and running off on adventures, Frodo. It never did a respectable hobbit any good--makes you late for meals and gives you a reputation for oddness. I blame old Uncle Bilbo for making this sort of thing fashionable amongst you youngsters."
"You'd never hear of a Baggins being called odd before Bilbo's day!" his wife agreed.
"Even our Peony's not the proper Baggins-lass she used to be since she married Milo Burrows," said Porto. "A flighty lad, that one! Calls himself a Burrows, but he's as much of a Brandybuck at heart as you are, Frodo. We thought she'd settle him down, but it seems to have gone the opposite way. We've heard about the part she played in helping you find those Taggart jewels."
"Not to say that the Brandybucks aren't fine folk in their way, nor to mention, ten times as rich as anybody in the Shire--except the Tooks," Ponto hastened to add. "But they've got an oddness in them, there's no denying it. It's brought some mighty strange blood into the Baggins family, and we see it come out in this sort of thing. Well, I'll go with you to the Bilburys all the same, my lad."
"That's very kind of you, Ponto," Frodo said politely.
"I know the poor girl who's missing and want to see her safely home," Ponto admitted. "Though I must say that I don't see the reason for this subterfuge. Can't you just ask the Bilburys what you want to know and have done with it?"
"I've explained that to you already, Papa," Angelica said with a mild note of patience. "You know how people are when you ask questions about their families and private affairs--they make so much fuss, even when you're trying to help them. It's much easier to do things this way."
"Oh... very well."
Angelica smiled and took her father's arm. "It's terribly sweet of you to indulge us, Papa, and we're both enormously grateful--aren't we, Frodo? If Cammie is found, it'll be due to Papa's help as much as anything."
Ponto patted her hand, curled around his coat-sleeve, and looked very pleased with himself. Frodo was amazed, but appreciated how in spite of all she'd done to win her family's disapproval, Angelica had not only gained their forgiveness, but could still charm the Bagginses and wind them around her fingers. No matter what they thought of it, they would do as she wanted.
A short walk brought the three of them to the Bilburys' home in Overhill, where they were met at the door by Turlo Bilbury, a large and middle-aged, respectable-looking hobbit, exactly the sort of person Frodo would have pictured as a friend of Ponto's. Mr. Bilbury took them into the parlor, where his wife was sitting. "I say, Rue, look who's come visiting!"
"I've brought along my daughter Angelica, whom you know, of course," said Ponto. "And this young fellow is my cousin, Frodo Baggins."
Rue Bilbury looked confused as she welcomed her guests. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Frodo. And how nice to see you again, Angelica dear. We haven't since before you were married. How sweet the two of you look together..." She let out a foolish little laugh. "Silly creature I am, I thought that your husband was Mayor Whitfoot's son."
"He is," said Angelica, and smiled slightly while Frodo blushed at the mistake. "Cousin Frodo was kind enough to accompany Papa and me today." She was quick to put Mrs. Bilbury at ease after this error, and soon got to the point of their visit.
Frodo settled quietly into a chair, and watched his cousin work. He considered Angelica a vain, self-centered, bossy girl, but he recognized that she was extremely clever at managing people. As he had told Sam, he would let her do as she liked today, so long as it aided his investigation; he knew she wanted to find and help Camellia as much as he did.
"I had to come and see you once I heard the news about Cammie," Angelica told the Bilburys. "I wanted to offer my sympathies. It must be wretched for you--how worried you must be! Have you heard from her at all?"
Tears misted Mrs. Bilbury's eyes. "No, not a word. Camellia was planning to come here, you know. She wrote to tell us so. I've watched the road for her since, and Turlo's been out to look for her. I haven't given up."
"'Tisn't safe for a girl to ride so far unaccompanied," said Ponto.
"You can't mean to suggest, Ponto Baggins, that she's been waylaid by ruffians?" asked Turlo, and shook his head. "Nonsense. Camellia would have come by the main road, through the heart of the Shire. There's no safer place in the world!"
"There have been some strange days recently, and tales of the most peculiar folk seen at our borders," his wife observed.
"Yes, but that's over now that there's a King again," Mr. Bilbury replied. "Not that what goes on outside the Shire has much to do with us, but we've heard how the wild lands have been put to rights and that bad lot's been driven off. There's no danger of ruffians getting into the Shire any longer."
"What do you think could have happened to her then?" Angelica asked. "Could she have stopped to visit someone else along the way?"
"If she had, she surely would have let us know," said Mrs. Bilbury. "I can only imagine that poor Camellia's had some sort of accident."
"That seems most likely to me as well," said Turlo, "but it's odd that no-one's found her by now, even if she'd been tossed from her pony into a ditch." His wife made a soft sound of distress at the idea, and was echoed sympathetically by Angelica. "At least, someone should have seen the riderless pony wandering."
Frodo listened, and knew that all this speculation was pointless. Camellia had intended to come to Overhill--perhaps to ask Angelica for advice, or to tell her aunt and uncle her plans--but she'd never set out on that journey. But it raised an interesting question: Which way had Camellia gone when she'd left Stillwater Hall? He'd assumed she and Rolo had taken the northern road to Bindbole Wood, but perhaps they'd traveled by the Great East road instead. When he returned to Budgeford, it might be worthwhile to look for signs of them and make a few inquiries along the way.
"She came from Budgeford, didn't she?" he asked.
The Bilburys stared at him, as if they'd forgotten he was there.
"I believe your niece is married to the one of the Stillwaters, who live near there. I know the family, slightly," he continued. "May I ask how you became acquainted with them? They live so far away. Are they relatives of yours?"
"Relatives? No. Verbena Goldworthy was an old friend of mine from girlhood," said Mrs. Bilbury. "We've seen little of each other since we each married and made our homes so far apart, but we've corresponded now and again over the years."
"And how did Camellia come to meet the son, Valerian?"
"It was through my efforts," Mrs. Bilbury answered. "In my letters, I mentioned to Verbena how concerned we were for poor Camellia's future once she came into our care. It's a great responsibility to watch over an inexperienced girl with her own fortune--all sorts of scoundrels will lay traps for her. Verbena replied that her own son wasn't yet married and, well, it seemed a perfect match. After that, it was only a matter of bringing the two young people together. The Stillwaters came to visit us here, and Camellia and Valerian were wed within a month."
Turlo Bilbury had begun to watch Frodo with interest during this part of the conversation, and continued to do so for the rest of the visit. As the Bagginses were preparing to leave, he lay a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "A moment of your time, lad, before you go," he requested softly, and drew Frodo aside, from the front hall into a small cloakroom, not used at this time of year.
"Rue and I don't go out much," he said once they were alone, "but we hear the news that goes around, same as everyone else does. You're the young Baggins who found old Mrs. Taggart's jewels, aren't you?"
Caught, Frodo confessed, "Yes, I am." He was beginning to see that his reputation as a detective could be a liability.
"From what I hear, you've made quite a business for yourself of prying into other people's private affairs," the older hobbit said softly.
"Only when I've been invited to do so," Frodo defended himself.
Mr. Bilbury huffed indignantly. "And who's invited you to look into our niece's affairs?"
"Mrs. Stillwaters."
At this name, Mr. Bilbury's indignation diminished; Camellia's mother-in-law had every right to ask Frodo to investigate. "She didn't tell us," he grumbled. "You might've said so, lad, when you came in, instead of letting your relatives do your talking for you."
"Mrs. Stillwaters asked me to be as discreet as possible in my inquiries."
"Inquiries, eh? And what've you found out so far?"
"I've heard a name," Frodo delicately broached the dangerous subject. "Rolo Bindbole."
"Him!" Mr. Bilbury's face turned red.
"You know who he is?" Frodo asked innocently.
"Yes, I know him. A thorough scoundrel, just the sort we tried to protect the girl against. Whatever gossip you've heard about that boy and our Camellia, it's quite mistaken. It's impossible! Cammie would never-! She couldn't. I'd rather she be dead in a ditch than such a thing be true!"
When Frodo left the house, Angelica and Ponto were waiting for him outside. "What's wrong, Frodo?" asked Angelica. "What did he say to you?"
"We're not so clever as we thought we were," Frodo said sheepishly. "Mr. Bilbury knew what we were up to all along."
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