I asked.

"On the sofa in the drawing-room. You said yourself that it was only in
the way in here. I thought you might like to hang it there."

"I am not angry," I said, "but I am pained." Then I fetched the
"Christian Martyr" and put it in its old place.

"You are a funny man," said Eliza; "I never know what you want."

* * * * *

As we were going up to bed that night we heard a loud bang in the
dining-room. The "Christian Martyr" was lying on the floor with the
glass broken. It had also smashed a Japanese teapot.

"I wish you'd never bought any 'Christian Martyr,'" said Eliza. "If
we'd had a mad bull in the place it couldn't have been worse. I'm sure
I'm not going to buy a new glass for it."

So next day I bought a new glass myself in the city, and brought it
back with me. But apparently Eliza had changed her mind, for a new
glass had already been fitted in, and it was hanging in the
dining-room, just where it had been before.

As a reward to Eliza I took it down and put it up in the drawing-room.
She smiled in a curious sort of way that I did not quite like. But I
thought it best to say nothing more about it.

THE PAGRAMS

Properly speaking, we had quarrelled with the Pagrams.

We both lived in the same street, and Pagram is in the same office as
myself. For some time we were on terms. Then one night they looked in
to borrow--well, I forget now precisely what it was, but they looked in
to borrow something. A month afterward, as they had not returned it, we
sent round to ask. Mrs. Pagram replied that it had already been
returned, and Pagram--this was the damning thing--told me at the office
in so many words that they had never borrowed it. Now, I hate anything
like deception. So does Eliza. For two years or more Eliza and Mrs.
Pagram have met in the street without taking the least notice of each
other. I speak to Pagram in the office--being, as you might say, more
or less paid to speak to him. But outside we have nothing to do with
each other.

* * * * *

It was on Wednesday morning, I think, at breakfast, that Eliza said:

"I've just heard from Jane, who had it from the milkman--Mrs. Pagram
had a baby born last night."

"Well, that," I observed, "is of no earthly interest to us."

"Of course it isn't. I only just mentioned it."

"Is it a boy or girl?"

"A girl. I only hope she will bring it up to speak the