(A pause.  Julia remains silent)

I could tell you some things; but—­(Seeing herself unencouraged) oh, you’ll find out soon enough! (Then, to stand right with herself) Julia, am I difficult to get on with?

JULIA.  Oh well, we all have our little ways, Laura.

LAURA.  But Martha:  she’s so rude!  I can’t introduce her to people!  If anyone comes, she just runs away.

JULIA (changing the subject).  D’you remember, Laura, that charming young girl we met at Mrs. Somervale’s, the summer Uncle Fletcher stayed with us?

LAURA (snubbingly).  I can’t say I do.

JULIA.  I met her the other day:  married, and with three children—­and just as pretty and young-looking as ever.

(All this is said with the most ravishing air, but Laura is not to be diverted.)

LAURA.  Ah!  I daresay.  When Martha behaves like that, I hold my tongue and say nothing.  But what people must think, I don’t know.  Julia, when you first came here, did you find old friends and acquaintances?  Did anybody recognise you?

JULIA.  A few called on me:  nobody I didn’t wish to see.

LAURA.  Is that odious man who used to be our next-door neighbour—­the one who played on the ’cello—­here still?

JULIA.  Mr. Harper?  I see him occasionally.  I don’t find him odious.

LAURA. Don’t you?

JULIA.  It was his wife who was the—­She isn’t here:  and I don’t think he wants her.

LAURA.  Where is she?

JULIA.  I didn’t ask, Laura.

(Mrs. James gives a jerk of exasperation, but at that moment the bell rings and a low knock is heard.)

JULIA (ecstatically). Here she is!

LAURA.  Julia, I wonder how it is Martha survived us.  She’s much the oldest.

JULIA (pleasantly palpitating).  Does it matter?  Does it matter?

(The door opens and in comes Martha.  She has neither the distinction of look nor the force of character which belongs to her two sisters.  Age has given a depression to the plain kindliness of her face, and there is a harassed look about her eyes.  She peeps into the room a little anxiously, then enters, carrying a large flat box covered in purple paper which, in her further progress across the room she lays upon the table.  She talks in short jerks and has a quick, hurried way of doing things, as if she liked to get through and have done with them.  It is the same when she submits herself to the embrace of her relations)

LAURA.  Oh, so you’ve come at last.  Quite time, too!

MARTHA.  Yes, here I am.

JULIA.  My dear Martha, welcome to your old home! (Embracing her)
How are you?

MARTHA.  I’m cold.  Well, Laura.

(Between these two the embrace is less cordial, but it takes place)

LAURA.  How did you come?