Bilbo knelt down in surprise. "Frodo? Is that really you? How tall you've grown!"
The young hobbit smiled and hugged his uncle tightly.
Before Drogo and Primula could greet the old hobbit Frodo started talking.
"Who is this, Uncle Bilbo?" he asked, pointing at Hamfast. "He was not very kind."
Bilbo frowned and looked at his gardener. "Wasn't he?"
The Gaffer bowed his head abashed. "'tis not what you might think, Mr. Bilbo. It's all a great misunderstanding."
Bilbo laughed. "Don't you worry, Master Hamfast. No harm was done, was there, Frodo-lad?"
Frodo eyed the gardener suspiciously, but shook his head.
"That's settled then", said Bilbo and motioned his guests to enter.
They bid the Gaffer farewell and Bilbo invited him and his family for tea in the afternoon.
Frodo had lifted up the aster again and turned it cheerlessly in his hands.
Primula saw her son scowling when they entered the smial. "What's the matter?" she asked.
The young boy looked at her with sad eyes and mumbled: "It should have been a surprise and that gardener of his has spoiled everything!"
Primula smiled. "Nothing is spoiled yet, my dear. And did you see the look in your uncle's eyes, when he opened the door? He seemed to be very surprised by that time."
"Very surprised, indeed!" said Bilbo, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Really?" the young hobbit asked, his eyes shining again.
Bilbo nodded. Frodo smiled, dashed to his father and begged him for the birthday present he had brought for his uncle.
Grinning broadly Frodo returned, hiding something behind his back.
"But you will only get it, if you really were surprised."
Bilbo chuckled. "And what would you do, if I were not?"
Frodo frowned, pondering his words for I moment. "I think you would get it anyway." He smirked and handed his uncle a small wooden box.
"Happy birthday, uncle Bilbo!"
"Happy birthday to you too, dear boy!"