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I had long believed that all was not right with my hat. I could prove nothing, but I had no doubt in my own mind that the girl took liberties with it. It is very easy to brush a silk hat the wrong way, for instance, but silk hats do not brush themselves the wrong way; if it is done, some one must have done it. Morning after morning I found marks on my hat which I could not account for. Well, I said nothing, but I made up my mind to keep my eyes open. It was not only the injury to the hat–it was the impertinence to myself that affected me.

One Saturday afternoon, while I was at home, a costermonger came to the door with walnuts. The girl answered the bell, and presently I saw the coster and his cart go past the dining-room window. I don’t know why it was, or how it was, but a suspicion came over me. I stepped sharply to the door, and looked out into the passage. There was no one there. The front door was open, and the kitchen door was open, and in a position between the two, against the umbrella-stand, was–something worse than ever I had expected.

I picked that hat up just as it was, with the walnuts inside it, and placed it on the dining-room table. Then I called to Eliza to come down-stairs.

“What is it?” she asked, as she entered the dining-room.

I pointed to the hat. “This kind of thing,” I said, “has been going on for years!”

“Oh, do talk sense!” she said. “What do you mean?”

“Sense!” I said. “You ask me to talk sense, when I find my own hat standing on the floor in the hall, and used as a–a receptacle for walnuts!”

She smiled. “I can explain all that,” she said.

“I’ve no doubt you can. I’m sick to death of explanations. I give ten or eleven shillings for a hat, and find it ruined. I know those explanations. You told the girl to buy the walnuts, and she had got nothing else to put them in, and the hat was handy; but if you think I take that as an excuse, you make a mistake.”

“I wasn’t going to say that at all.”

“Or else you’ll tell me that you can paste in a piece of white paper, so that the stains on the lining won’t show. Explanations, indeed!”

“And I wasn’t going to say that, either.”

“I don’t care what you were going to say. I won’t hear it. There’s no explanation possible. For once I mean to take a strong line. You see that hat? I shall never wear it again!”

“I know that.”

“No one shall wear it! I don’t care for the expense! If you choose to let that servant-girl ruin my hat, then that hat shall be ruined, and no mistake about it!”

I picked the hat up, and gave it one sound, savage kick. My foot went through it, and the walnuts flew all over the room. At the same moment I heard from the drawing-room a faint tink-tink-tink on the piano.

“Yes,” said Eliza. “That’s the piano-tuner. He came at the same time as the walnut-man, and bought those walnuts. And he put them in his hat. His hat, mind you, not your hat. Your hat’s hanging up in the usual place. You might have seen it if you’d looked. Only you’re—-“

“Eliza,” I said, “you need say no more. If that is so, the servant-girl is much less to blame than I had supposed. I have to go out now, but perhaps you’d drop into the drawing-room and explain to the tuner that there’s been some slight misunderstanding with his hat. And, I say, a glass of beer and two shillings is as much as you need offer.”