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?"