Ah, yes, a jumper probably.  They had had a jade-green jumper at that price, she believed.  If I would sit down for a moment she would send someone to see if it were still unsold.

I felt very anxious while I waited, but the emissary presently returned with the garment over her arm.

Yes, that was undoubtedly the one.  She remembered how much Moddom had admired it.  It had suited Moddom so well too.

While it was being packed up, for I decided to take it with me, a small boy arrived with several hat-boxes, which he put down on the floor.

Red-hair proceeded to unpack them, carefully, almost reverently, extracting the hats from the folds of surrounding tissue-paper and placing them one by one in various cupboards and drawers.  Presently she drew forth from one of the boxes—­I felt sure I was not mistaken—­that very blue hat which I had admired only the day before upon the head of my wife.

I gave an involuntary exclamation.  Red-hair looked at me.

“Surely,” I said, feeling inwardly rather proud at recognising it again—­“surely that hat is exactly like one that my wife bought yesterday.”

Red-hair was hurt.  “It is the same hat,” she said coldly.  “We never make two models alike.”

I tried to mollify her.  “I can’t understand her sending it back,” I said.  “I think it’s an extremely pretty hat, and it suits her so well.  But perhaps there was some alteration necessary.  It may not have quite fitted or something?”

Red-head dived gracefully into the box and drew forth a note from the tissue-paper billows.

A faint flicker expressive of I knew not what hidden emotion seemed to pass for one moment over her aristocratic features as she read it.  But it vanished instantaneously, and she turned to me with her previous air of haughty and imperturbable aloofness.

“Moddom is not keeping the hat,” she said.

I felt somehow a little snubbed, and said no more, and, my parcel appearing at this moment, I paid and departed.

Nancy’s joy over the jumper more than came up to my expectations.  When she had calmed down a little I bethought myself of the matter of the hat.

“Oh, yes,” said Nancy in reply to my question, “I sent it back after all.  It won’t matter in the least now that you have bought this.”

“But why didn’t you keep it?” I said.

“Well, I really felt I didn’t like it so very much,” said Nancy, “and, as you didn’t seem quite to like it either—­”

“My dear girl,” I protested, “I told you I thought it was charming.”

“Well, anyway you said that blue didn’t suit me,” persisted my wife.  “You did, George.”

There was a moment’s pause.  It was no use saying anything.  Suddenly Nancy jumped up and clutched me by the arm.

“George,” she said anxiously, “you didn’t, you didn’t say anything about that hat to the girl in the shop, did you?”