"Crickhollow?" Eglantine paused in the middle of handing a filled teacup to her husband. "Pippin, are you sure? Frodo actually means to abandon Bag End?"

Pippin smiled sadly, as he helped himself to toast. "He says he's run out of money."

"Balderdash," Paladin stated strongly. "Frodo, overreaching his income? Impossible." He rescued his teacup from his wife, who was still gazing at her son in astonishment.

Nel listened to the exchange, no less thunderstruck than her parents. Her stomach shrank into a knot, and she lost all interest in the remains of her second breakfast. Next to her, Vinca's face went white, and her hands grew still. Pearl, less affected than her sisters, studied Pippin keenly.

"All I know," Pippin said patiently, to the ring of amazed faces, "is that Frodo says Bilbo's gold is running low, and he'd rather live someplace less expensive to keep up."

"But, his income." Eglantine looked upset. "He has income from his tenants. What has he been spending it on?"

Pippin shrugged. "That I don't know. It must be something, or he wouldn't have sold Bag End."

Paladin stirred milk into his tea, frowning. "There's something amiss, here. Frodo would not be so foolish as to lose his money through some risky speculation."

Eglantine turned towards him. "But my dear, what would he speculate in?"

"No idea," Paladin grumbled.

Nel poked at her congealing egg, though her mind whirled. Frodo, leaving. True, he hadn't been a regular visitor for several years—not since Nel's plan had backfired, and driven him away. She forced herself to speak. "Pippin, did he say when he would be moving?"

Pippin took a bite of toast. "September," he said around it. "His birthday."

Nel dropped her gaze, and went back to pushing food around on her plate. September. It couldn't be coincidence, could it? That he was leaving the very month before Vinca came of age, and her long-term romance with Willy Whitfoot would be consummated?

Apparently Vinca's mind was moving the same way. In a small voice, she asked, "Will he come back for the wedding? I… I should very much like for him to attend."

"After what he did," Pearl said tartly, "I shouldn't think he'd be much of a loss."

"Tut!" Paladin interjected. "Pearl, those accusations were never proved. Please use your sense when confronted with an idle report. I'll not have any daughter of mine turn into a foolish gossip!"

"It won't matter anyway," said Pippin. "I'm quite sure from something Frodo said that he expects to be quite busy in October." He gave Vinca an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Sis."

"That's settled, then." Vinca continued cutting her egg and toast into slivers. Nel was certain it was distress; those pieces were far too small to eat. "Still, it would have been nice to see him again on a friendly basis."

"Vinca," said Pearl, "the last thing Willy wants is to see you on a friendly basis with Frodo Baggins. Trust me on this."

"Willy has been far more important to this household for a while than Frodo has," said Eglantine soothingly, looking round the table for support. "After all, he'll be Vinca's husband in just a few months. Perhaps after that, we can all let go of our past bitterness and become friends again."

"I hope so, Mother," said Vinca.

But Vinca didn't eat any more, and excused herself shortly after the subject turned. Nel watched her go with an ache in her heart.

Willy was a sweet lad. He worshipped Vinca, and Vinca was fond of him. But he was no Frodo Baggins. Even now, after all these years, Nel believed that Vinca still regretted what she had lost. Nel had never been brave enough to confess her role in the duplicity that drove him away. But if she came clean now, what good would it do? Would Vinca break up her long courtship with Willy to pursue Frodo again? Would Frodo abandon his plans to move, in the hopes of regaining Vinca? It was too absurd. All that would probably happen is that Vinca and Pearl would hate Nel forever, and Vinca would be miserable all over again. Pippin had long ago made up his mind to believe Frodo's side of the story, but Pippin's aloofness towards her would be nothing compared to the acid hatred of her sisters. As Vinca seemed sincerely attached to Willy, Nel deemed it cruel to meddle with her happiness yet again. Yet, as the wedding approached, Nel found herself questioning again whether she had done the right thing in remaining silent. Vinca was… well, she was well enough. But Willy, dear as he was, never put the smile on her face that she had worn in the days when she was courting Frodo.

"Nel." Her mother's gentle voice startled her from her reverie. Eglantine nodded at Nel's plate. "You aren't eating."

"I've had enough. If you'll excuse me?"

Her father waved her on. She needed a place to hide, to think; her mind was in turmoil. She had to pass Pippin's chair to get out. She was almost afraid to look at him, afraid to find some lingering shred of condemnation in his look. But her glance at Pippin surprised her; he was looking at her with something close to pity.

Her composure shattered, Nel fled.