LAURA. Julia, where is the silver tea-pot?

JULIA. Which, Laura?

LAURA. Why, that beautiful one of our Mother's.

JULIA. When we shared our dear Mother's things between us, didn't Martha have it?

LAURA. Yes, she did. But she tells me she doesn't know what's become of it. When I ask, what did she do with it in the first place? she loses her temper. But once she told me she left it here with _you_.

(_The fierce eye and the accusing tone make no impression on that cushioned fortress of gentility. With suave dignity Miss Robinson makes chaste denial._)

JULIA. No.

LAURA (_insistent_). Yes; in a box.

JULIA. In a box? Oh, she may have left anything in a box.

LAURA. It was that box she always travelled about with and never opened.

Well, I looked in it once (never mind how), and the tea-pot wasn't there.

JULIA (_gently, making allowance_). Well, I _didn't_ look in it, Laura.

(_Like a water-lily folding its petals she adjusts a small shawl about her shoulders, and sinks composedly into her chair._)

LAURA. The more fool you! . . . But all the other things she had of our Mother's _were_ there: a perfect magpie's nest! And she, living in her boxes, and never settling anywhere. What did she want with them?

JULIA. I can't say, Laura.

LAURA. No--no more can I; no more can anyone! Martha has got the miser spirit. She's as grasping as a caterpillar. _I_ ought to have had that 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-gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s, 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_.)

JULIA. Laura, Martha is coming!

LAURA. Here? Well, I wonder how she has managed that!

(_Her sister hands her the telegram, which she reads._)

'Accident. Quite safe. Arriving by the 6.30.' Why, it's after that now!

JULIA (_sentimentally_). Oh, Laura, only think! So now we shall be all together again.