Nancy came softly into my study and stood at the side of the desk,
where I was busy with some work on account of which I had stayed away
from the office that morning.
"Do you like it?" she said.
I felt a momentary anxiety as I looked up. I had made a bad mistake
only a little time before, having waxed enthusiastic over what I took
to be a new blouse when it was a question of hair-dressing, the blouse
having been worn by my wife, so she solemnly averred, "every evening
for the last two months."
But this time no mistake was possible. You don't go about the house at
eleven o'clock on a cold Spring morning fancifully arrayed in a pale
blue hat with white feathery things sticking out all round it, unless
there is a particular reason for so doing.
"I think it's a delightful hat," I said, "and suits you splendidly.
But I thought you never wore blue?"
"I don't," said Nancy; "that's what makes me rather doubtful. I didn't
really mean to buy it at all. I went in to Marguerite's--you know,
that heavenly shop at the corner of the square"--I nodded; of course
I knew Marguerite's--"to ask the price of a jade-green jumper they
had in the window--oh, my dear, a perfect angel of a jumper!--and they
showed me this. That red-haired assistant almost _made_ me buy it;
said she had never seen me in a hat that suited me so well; and really
it wasn't so very dear. But I _was_ a little doubtful. However--"
"She was quite right," I said very decidedly. "Did you get the
what-you-may-call-it--the other thing?"
Nancy's face expressed poignant anguish.
"Twelve guineas," she said. "I simply couldn't run to it. Of course I
was heart-broken. Still, it wasn't as if I really needed anything just
now. It would have been ridiculous extravagance. But it really was an
angel."
She turned to go, stopping a moment on the way out to have another
look at herself in the little round mirror over the mantel-piece.
"I'm not quite happy about it," I heard her murmur as she went out.
The next morning I found a letter waiting for me at the office which
brought me news of a totally unexpected windfall of some fifty odd
pounds. It was a sunny morning, too, with a distinct feeling of Spring
in the air.
I felt like being extravagant, and my mind flew at once to Nancy and
her jade-green--what was the name of the thing?--that she had wanted
so badly.
I left the office early, and on my way home managed to summon up
sufficient courage to carry me through the discreetly curtained doors
of Madame Marguerite's _recherché_ establishment, devoutly hoping that
the nervous sinking which I felt about my heart was not reflected in
my outer demeanour.
The red-haired girl, in spite of a curiously detached and supercilious
air, as who should say, "Take it or leave it; it concerns me not in
the least," which at first rather alarmed me, was really quite kind
and helpful.
"Something in jade-green that Moddom admired? A hat perhaps?"
No, I knew it was not a hat. I murmured something about twelve
guineas. This seemed to be enlightening.
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.