LAURA. He must know. I've told him. She sent a wreath to my funeral, 'With
love and fond affection, from Emily.' Fond fiddlesticks! Humbug! She knows
I can't abide her.

JULIA. I suppose she thought it was the correct thing.

LAURA. And I doubt if it cost more than ten shillings. Now Mrs.
Dobson--you remember her: she lives in Tudor Street with a daughter one
never sees--something wrong in her head, and has fits--she sent me a cross
of lilies, white lilac, and stephanotis, as handsome as you could wish;
and a card--I forget what was on the card.... Julia, when you died--

JULIA. Oh, don't Laura!

LAURA. Well, you did die, didn't you?

JULIA. Here one doesn't talk of it. That's over. There are things you will
have to learn.

LAURA. What I was going to say was--when I died I found my sight was much
better. I could read all the cards without my glasses. Do _you_ use
glasses?

JULIA. Sometimes, for association. I have these of our dear Mother's in
her tortoise-shell case.

LAURA. That reminds me. Where is our Mother?

JULIA. She comes--sometimes.

LAURA. Why isn't she here always?

JULIA (_with pained sweetness_). I don't know, Laura. I never ask
questions.

LAURA. Really, Julia, I shall be afraid to open my mouth presently!

JULIA (_long-suffering still_). When you see her you will understand.
I told her you were coming, so I daresay she will look in.

LAURA. 'Look in'!

JULIA. Perhaps. That is her chair, you remember. She always sits there,
still.

(ENTER _Hannah with the coal_.)

Just a little on, please, Hannah--only a little.

LAURA. This isn't China tea: it's Indian, three and sixpenny.

JULIA. Mine is ten shilling China.

LAURA. Lor', Julia! How are you able to afford it?

JULIA. A little imagination goes a long way here, you'll find. Once I
tasted it. So now I can always taste it.

LAURA. Well! I wish I'd known.

JULIA. Now you _do_.

LAURA. But I never tasted tea at more than three-and-six. Had I known, I
could have got two ounces of the very best, and had it when----

JULIA. A lost opportunity. Life is full of them.

LAURA. Then you mean to tell me that if I had indulged more then, I could
indulge more now?

JULIA. Undoubtedly. As I never knew what it was to wear sables, I have to
be content with ermine.

LAURA. Lor', Julia, how paltry!

(_While this conversation has been going on, a gentle old lady has
appeared upon the scene, unnoticed and unannounced. One perceives, that i