On my return from the city I went into the dining-room and found the picture gone. Eliza was sitting there as calmly as if nothing had happened.
"Where is the 'Christian Martyr'?" 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.