|
It was at this moment, when Marigold lay limp in Mithalwen's arms, that Falco Headstrong came hurrying up the path to the Inn, his head bent to keep the rain from his face, and his arms encircling one or two packages to keep them from being soaked. His eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, and he did not look up until he reached the door to the Inn, and so he saw nothing of what had occured. He entered the Common Room, triumphantly brandishing the packages, and he saw at once that both Marigold and the Big Folk fellow were no longer at the table. He looked about thoughtfully, and concluded that the one was with Miss Buttercup or one of the other serving maids, and that the other had gone about his own business, have wearied of entertaining a small hobbit lass.
Falco took himself to Marigold's room, where he proceeded to unwrap the packages and spread their contents out upon the bed, picturing to himself all the while what Marigold's face would look like when she saw this surprise he had prepared for her. Upon the bed he had laid a fairly simple yet very pretty blue frock, with a large diamond-shaped ruffle at the neckline; a white blouse, with buttons up the front and a ribbon to tie up the very top, and trimmed with lace; an eight-paneled green skirt with a pattern of darker green flowers woven in; a red dress gathered at the waist; and a simple white gown with a very slight waistline, accompanied with a blue sash. He knew very little about dresses and skirts and such things, for he had never paid much attention to his sisters' and mother's shopping, and had never had any little girls of his own to care for (and even then he had little doubt that the mother would be in charge of choosing the clothes), but the young hobbit girl at the counter had assisted him very cheerily, and he could tell even with his limited knowledge that the clothes would be very good for Marigold.
He returned to the Common Room, and wondered anew what could have become of Marigold. He questioned one of the maids who was passing by, and she said she had not seen the girl since she had been talking with Snaveling. Falco regretted that he had not yet made the acquaintance of the girl he had just questioned, for that would have advanced this a little farther. Have a slight acquaintance with Buttercup, it would have been much easier to question her about the matter, as she would already know what Marigold looked like, and where she would be apt to go.
"She is probably with Miss Buttercup," Falco murmured. "I don't know where else she would go, and that Big Folk fellow wouldn't kidnap her in broad daylight with all these people about. She'll probably returned for her lunch in good time." And so he sat down at the table to await little Marigold's return.
|