[Nurumaiel]

Angelica finished combing the last tangle out of her daughter's hair, and then, looking frantically for something suitable for the little girl to wear, pulled open a drawer too hastily, and it, as well as the contents, fell to the ground. "Oh, bother!" she cried, falling to her knees to pick up the mess. "Prisca-baby, go see if your brothers are ready." Prisca trotted out of the room, and Angelica finished cleaning up the mess she had made, finding a little blue dress that would look pretty on her daughter.

Prisca came back into the room and solemnly announced, "Madoc is almost ready, and Fosco is out in the mud making pies. He tried to throw some mud at me but he missed."

"Fosco Muddyfoot…" said Angelica through her clenched teeth. She knew it would do no good to yell to him, but she had to say something or she'd burst. "Prisca, go and tell him to get out of the mud right now and come straight to Mum. Then come back here and I'll help you change."

Angelica hurried into her own bedroom to get ready. That Fosco! He'd probably find some mud puddle on the way there and go to the party all dirty, and everyone would laugh at her so, and say she wasn't a very good mother, and…

The mother took three deep breaths and pulled out the ribbon in her dark hair, letting it fall loose. No, he wouldn't find a mud puddle and no one would laugh at her. If there were any there that had their own children, or were children themselves once, they would certainly understand. Cami would understand, that was certain. Angelica laughed a little as she remembered all the horrible stories Cami had told her about a Proudfoot boy that she'd known when she was a child.

Angelica changed into a blue dress that matched Prisca's, and began to brush her hair, her thoughts wandering to Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. She still didn't understand the piece of Cami's letter about them. Would they actually be at the party? It's a welcome home for them, of course they'll be there. Angelica's heart skipped a beat. What if her dear Uncle Bilbo was in the Shire this very moment? She set down the brush and began to spin around the room, thinking of how wonderful it would be to see him again.

Suddenly there was a long wail, and the sound of the front door slamming. Angelica stopped dead in her tracks and turned pale. That was Prisca! Had something happened to her?

The door to her room was flung open and there stood Prisca, her just-brushed hair tangled and muddy. Tears were rolling down her dirty cheeks, and sobs nearly choked her. "F-Fosco is a big… meanie!" the little girl cried. "I… I… I… told him th-that he had to go t-to you but he said 'no' and then he gr-gra-grabbed me and put mud all over… my… hair!!"

Angelica stared weakly at her daughter, then sat down and burst into tears. "Merimac!" she wailed. Her husband came hurrying in and looked from her to Prisca. Then he turned and left the room, going outside. He knew what had happened.

When he finished dealing with Fosco and sent him in to get ready, he came back to his wife and put his arm around her. "There, there, Angelica, don't cry," he said comfortingly, but she could not be consoled.

"We might as well just stay home now," she sobbed. "We'll never be ready in time, and no matter how fast we go we'll be late. Fosco and Prisca aren't even close to being ready. Look at her! I have to wash her hair now and I just finished brushing it and Fosco went and put mud in it again!"

"Don't be worrying now," said Merimac, standing up. "And don't be crying. You're making your eyes red, love."

Angelica gasped and her hand flew to her eyes, then she looked up at Merimac with a little laugh. "Merimac, I'm through with being vain," she said.

"Apparently not yet." He winked at Prisca, who had no idea what he was winking about, and left the rooom.

Angelica sighed and took Prisca's hand. Well, it wouldn't matter too much if they were late, and at least she was seeing all her old friends again. "I just have to look on the bright side of things," she said to herself, as she once again washed the mud out of her vain little daughter's hair.