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“Very well,” said Cela finally. “He will have them.”
“Thanks, Cela,” said Dick, and he returned to the common room, leaving Cela and Primrose alone once more.
“Now,” she said, turning to Primrose. “I don’t want you harboring any notions that what you’re feeling is ‘silliness.’ Will’s a fine young hobbit, and you might do worse than him.” Cela thought she could see Primrose’s ears reddening a bit. Better Will than Tollers… spends more time dreaming than working, she thought, but kept it to herself. “But you don’t spend enough time with those your own age. When was the last time you went out and did something fun? I don’t need your help in the kitchen all the time, you know. I’m not so old as that! Master Dick shouldn’t have any problems with that, and if he does he can take them up with me.
“Oh! The bacon,” she remembered suddenly, hastening to take the sizzling meat off the hot griddle. She sniffed the air critically. “No, not burnt… next thing to it, though,” she muttered. “Next thing I’ll be sugaring the eggs instead of salting them.”
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