"Luncheon will be here soon," I said to Faramir, "then I will read you a story, and you shall have a rest. What do you think they have made us to eat? Shepherd's pie? Perhaps some of those cheese pastries you like so well?"

Faramir, playing with his carved soldiers, did not answer, which was not surprising. Though nearly 18 months old, he still had not spoken a single word. Oh, he would rattle off gurgles and babblings, as if in reply, sometimes echoing my intonation exactly, which always made me laugh. But he'd not yet used any identifiable words.

I always replied just as though we were having an actual conversation, as I had done with Boromir before he learned to talk. With both boys, this was partially because I hoped it would encourage him to talk, but also because I did not like the silence. Additionally, it seemed far too quiet in the nursery when Boromir was at his lessons. But it was good that I had time alone with Faramir. Faramir was so amiable that he could entertain himself with little effort, but I had to be careful that Boromir's often-rowdy presence did not claim all my attention.

So I chattered as I knelt in front of the shelves, straightening the toys Boromir had thrown there so haphazardly. "Perhaps this afternoon we shall go to the gardens and look at the fish again, hmm? But this time, no trying to catch the fish. We must at least attempt to keep you dry."

A hand tugged at my sleeve. "Bo'mir?"

"He is at the stabl -- what?" I turned, astonished. "Faramir -- did you just say your brother's name?"

"Bo'mir?" he repeated, a frown creasing his forehead.

I picked him up and hugged him, delighted. "Boromir is learning to ride a horse, little one," I told him, kissing his round cheek. "He will be here when you wake up, and he will be so surprised! Will you say it for him, I wonder?"

Faramir studied me for a moment, then patted my face with his small, soft hands. "Bo'mir!" he said happily, as if he had made some momentous decision.

"Well, I am not Boromir," I teased him, "but yes, Boromir will be here after you sleep."

He giggled --at my words or something else, I did not know --and gave a little gasp when there was a knock at the door. "Bo'mir!"

"No, love," I said, "that is lunch."

And he sighed, just as if he were disappointed.

Boromir, of course, was thrilled to discover that Faramir could say his name. Neither Boromir nor I realized that would be the only word we would hear out of Faramir for quite some time.