They call on each
other. His wife doesn't live with him any longer.

(_Julia rises and goes slowly and majestically out of the room._)

LAURA (_after relishing what she conceives to be her rout of the enemy_).
Martha, what do you think of Julia?

MARTHA. Oh, she's---- What do you want me to think?

LAURA. High and mighty as ever, isn't she? She's been here by herself so
long she thinks the whole place is hers.

MARTHA. I daresay we shall settle down well enough presently. Which room
are you sleeping in?

LAURA. Of course, I have my old one. Where do you want to go?

MARTHA. The green room will suit me.

LAURA. And Julia means to keep our Mother's room: I can see that. No
wonder she won't come and stay.

MARTHA. Have you seen her?

LAURA. She just 'looked in,' as Julia calls it. I could see she'd hoped
to find me alone. Julia always thought _she_ was the favourite. I knew
better.

MARTHA. How was she?

LAURA. Just her old self; but as if she missed something. It wasn't a
_happy_ face, until I spoke to her: then it all brightened up. . . . Oh,
thank you for the wreath, Martha. Where did you get it?

MARTHA. Emily made it.

LAURA. That fool! Then she made her own too, I suppose?

MARTHA. Yes. That went the day before, so you got it in time.

LAURA. I thought it didn't look up to much. (_She is now contemplating
Emily's second effort with a critical eye._) Now a little maiden-hair
fern would have made a world of difference.

MARTHA. I don't hold with flowers myself. I think it's wasteful. But, of
course, one has to do it.

LAURA (_with pained regret_). I'm sorry, Martha; I return it--with many
thanks.

MARTHA. What's the good of that? I can't give it back to Emily, now!

LAURA (_with quiet grief_). I don't wish to be a cause of waste.

MARTHA. Well, take it to pieces, then; and put them in water--or wear it
round your head!

LAURA. Ten beautiful wreaths my friends sent me. They are all lying on my
grave now! A pity that love is so wasteful! Well, I suppose I must go now
and change into my cap. (_Goes to the door, where she encounters Julia._)
Why, Julia, you nearly knocked me down!

JULIA (_ironically_). I beg your pardon, Laura; it comes of using the
same door. Hannah has lighted a fire in your room.

LAURA. That's sensible at any rate.

(EXIT _Mrs. James_.)

JULIA. Well? And how do you find Laura?

MARTHA. Julia, I don't know whether I can stand her.

JULIA. She hasn't got quite--used