[Nurumaiel]

Marigold sat in the grass, taking bites of her cake in between her adoring glances at Zimzi. What a kind, beautiful, sweet, lovely bride she was! If the perfect truth must be told, Marigold had felt a twinge of disappointment when she saw who was to be married. She had expected some blushing hobbit lass, but there was a tall Big Folk woman instead. The disappointment had been diminished somewhat when she had realised what a pretty woman she was, and it was banished to dark depths of nothingness when she was taken into those slender arms and comforted in those tender tones. Marigold smiled. Miss Zimzi was sweet, sweet, sweet! Never had anyone been so affectionate to her since her mother clasped her and kissed her for the last time.

But...

Marigold recalled something else that had happened in those few moments when the world seemed at an end because of the ruined cake and spattered dress. She had called that tall one who caused all the trouble an 'awful Man.' She blushed at the recollection. If only she had merely thought it. That wouldn't have been so bad. It was humiliating to have said it so everyone could hear, and... they had laughed. She blushed deeper. Oh, thank goodness Zimzi had come and comforted her. Marigold was firmly convinced she would have died of shame and sorrow if it hadn't happened so.

She would have to apologise to that Man, she supposed. Of course, by all rights, he should apologise to her because he had ruined her cake and spattered icing on her dress (were all Big Folk so clumsy?). But she had called him awful, right out loud. Why, oh why, couldn't she have just thought it? Then everything would be all right. The guilt would be all on his side. But she had opened her mouth, and she would have to open it again in apology. She could see him from the corner of her eye. Well, she couldn't apologise yet. She had to finish her cake, and wait until he wasn't busy talking to someone else. Maybe he would always be busy. Frankly, she didn't want to apologise. Why should she? She had called him awful because he was awful. She hadn't done anything very wrong.

Well, that was easily solved. She wouldn't seek him out to apologise. She would only apologise (very casually, as if it didn't matter) if she ran into him again. Not that that could possibly happen. He would be the one to run into her, so clumsy was he. He would probably run over her, he was that clumsy. Why had she called him awful? He was clumsy, clumsy, clumsy.

Marigold giggled a little. He had looked funny with the cake all over him. His tunic had been spattered worse than her pretty skirt. And she mustn't call him clumsy anymore. It might make her mean-minded and depressing like Mr. Headstrong.

As if that could ever happen!