A Ring of Rubies by L.T. Meade — Read

I went home and waited for the week. I was excited, I even felt nervous. I was not a particularly pleasant companion for my mother during these days of waiting. I felt irritable, and the merest trifle made me speak crossly. The boys (we always called my big grown-up brothers "the boys") twitted me on my London visit. They said my new hat had not improved my temper, and, by the way, where was my new hat?

I said, if it came home it would be in a week. I threw great mystery into my voice when I made this remark, but the boys were essentially matter-of-fact, and did not pursue the inquiry.