tea-pot.

JULIA. Why?

LAURA. Because I had a house of my own, and people coming to tea. Martha
never had anyone to tea with her in her life--except in lodgings.

JULIA. We all like to live in our own way. Martha liked going about.

LAURA. Yes. She promised _me_, after William--I suppose I had better say
'evaporated' as you won't let me say 'died'--she promised always to stay
with me for three months in the year. She never did. Two, and some
little bits, were the most. And I want to know where was that tea-pot all
the time?

JULIA (_a little jocosely_). Not in the box, apparently.

LAURA (_returning to her accusation_). I thought you had it.

JULIA. You were mistaken. Had I had it here, you would have found it.

LAURA. Did Martha never tell _you_ what she did with it?

JULIA. I never asked, Laura.

LAURA. Julia, if you say that again I shall scream.

JULIA. Won't you take your things off?

LAURA. Presently. When I feel more at home. (_Returning to the charge._)
But most of our Mother's things are here.

JULIA. Your share and mine.

LAURA. How did you get mine here?

JULIA. You brought them. At least, they _came_, a little before you did.
Then I knew you were on your way.

LAURA (_impressed_). Lor'! So that's how things happen?

(_She goes and begins to take a look round, and Julia takes up her
crochet again. As she does so her eye is arrested by a little
old-fashioned hour-glass standing upon_ _the table from which the
tea-tray has been taken, the sands of which are still running._)

JULIA (_softly, almost to herself_). Oh, but how strange! That was
Martha's. Is Martha coming too? (_She picks up the glass, looks at it,
and sets it down again._)

LAURA (_who is examining the china on a side-table_). Why, I declare,
Julia! Here is your Dresden that was broken--without a crack in it!

JULIA. No, Laura, it was yours that was broken.

LAURA. It was _not_ mine; it was yours. . . . Don't you remember _I_
broke it?

JULIA. When you broke it you said it was mine. Until you broke it, you
said it was yours.

LAURA. Very well, then: as you wish. It isn't broken now, and it's mine.

JULIA. That's satisfactory. I get my own back again. It's the better one.

(ENTER _Hannah with a telegram on a salver_.)

HANNAH (_in a low voice of mystery_). A telegram, Ma'am.

(_Julia opens it. The contents evidently startle her, but she retains her
presence of mind._)

JULIA. No answer.

(EXIT _Hannah_.)

JUL