The Case of the Long-Lost Cousin by Kathryn Ramage

Story notes: This story takes place in February of 1427 (S.R.).
Frodo had stayed on at the Sackville Place for two weeks after recovering from his cold, long after Pippin and Sam had gone home. It wasn't simply that he feared riding twenty miles in the winter's cold while in delicate health; he also felt that he owed it to his friend Thimula Chinhold to stay and help her during that difficult time. Thimula had her husband's funeral to arrange and several small children to look after, and Frodo had had his own hard experience of these responsibilities in the aftermath of personal disaster. He had only, finally, gone home after Thimula assured him that she could manage on her own.

He wrote to Sam that he was returning to Hobbiton, and arrived at Bag End the next afternoon just in time for tea. Sam met him at the front door--not bringing the nice, hot cup to warm him after his long ride that he'd hoped for, but a sealed note.

"It's from Angelica," Sam informed him. "She wanted me to send it up to Sackville after you, but I told her you'd be home today."

"Angelica? Is she here?" Angelica Whitfoot, Frodo's cousin, lived in Michel Delving.

"She's at Miss Dora's, and must've got in last night. She came over first thing this morning with that letter for you."

Frodo flipped the unopened note between his fingers. "Do you know what this is about, Sam? I suspect it must be something more urgent than an invitation to dine at my aunt's house." Angelica wouldn't have wanted to send for him all the way from Sackville if it were something commonplace.

"I can't say what's going on," Sam answered. "I haven't been over to the Old Place since I went to bring the little uns home, but I know there's a visitor staying with Miss Dora. Not Angelica. This is another lady nobody's seen before. She got there a couple o' days before Angelica did. Folk've been wondering who she is, and why nobody's been asked to come meet her."

"Perhaps that's what this is. She may an acquaintance of my aunt or Angelica's and in some personal trouble, and they think she requires my confidential services." The quickest way to resolve these speculations was to read Angelica's note. Frodo opened it to find that there was only a brief message within:

"Frodo-

"Please come at once. We need your help to expose
an imposter."

Angelica didn't explain the matter further. The only way Frodo could find out who this impostor might be was to obey his cousin's summons. He tucked the note into his coat pocket--he hadn't had time to take it off, and there was no reason for him to do so now--and gave Sam an apologetic peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry, my dear. I'll have to go right out again. I'll take my tea at Aunt Dora's, but I hope you can expect me back in time for dinner."




The Old Baggins Place was on the far northern side of the Hill, but it wasn't a very long walk even on a chilly afternoon. When Frodo arrived, he found his family assembled in the best parlor. With his Aunt Dora were Angelica and her husband Lad Whitfoot, Angelica's parents, her aunt Gilliflora and uncle Porto, Milo and Peony Burrows, and another hobbit Frodo didn't recognize. She was a woman past her first youth--in her middle forties, Frodo estimated--small and plump, not a beauty but possessing a pleasant, round face and light brown curls pulled into a bun atop her head. This must surely be the mysterious visitor Sam had heard about.

"Frodo dear!" His aged aunt set down her knitting to hold out one hand to him in welcome. "I'm so glad you've come at last. Everyone's made such a fuss and said we ought to wait and do nothing until you were here, though I must say I don't understand why. We might've introduced Dorie to all our friends and neighbors by now and settled the question of her inheritance quite suitably."

"Dorie?" Frodo regarded the visitor again with greater interest, although he was at a loss to imagine who this woman was supposed to be. Was she a relative? There was something in the shape of her face that reminded him of his cousin Peony, but many hobbit-ladies of a similar age had the same type of features.

"You'll never guess!" cried Dora. "Such a surprise to us all when she came to the door. Frodo, this is your cousin, Doriella Baggins. Your uncle Dudo's daughter."

"Uncle Dudo..." Frodo had never met his uncle. In fact, he often forgot that his father and Aunt Dora had ever had a younger brother. All his information about Dudo had come from Dora herself: Dudo had gone away as a young hobbit to seek his fortune and never returned to Hobbiton. He'd only written to his sister a few times over the years, once to say that he'd taken work in the Southfarthing and was going to marry a local girl, then four or five years later to announce the birth of a daughter. It had been more than thirty years since Dora had last heard from him, and the Baggins family generally believed that he was dead.

"Dorie, this is Frodo Baggins," Dora completed the introduction. "You've heard about him already."

"Yes, of course," said Doriella. "Everybody's heard about you." She smiled up at him, but didn't rise from her chair next to Dora's beside the parlor fire. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, cousin Frodo."

"At your service, cousin," Frodo replied politely and gave her a small bow. He was aware, however, that the other Bagginses around the room were not as delighted by the discovery of this new relation as Dora was. Given Aunt Dora's allusion to an inheritance, he understood their concern. "Are you staying here with Auntie?" he asked.

"Of course she's staying here, Frodo," Dora answered before her namesake could reply. "Where else would my own niece find a home? I've told Dorie that she's welcome to stay here as long as she likes. She has as much right to call the Old Place her home as I do, dear Frodo, or you do. As a matter of fact, I've been thinking of leaving it to you both when I pass on."

At this last remark, Angelica regarded Frodo with widened eyes and a pointed look. She remembered as well as he did the last time Aunt Dora had made a similar proposal.
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