laura. Saucy.
julia. Martha, will you excuse me?
(Polite to the last, she vanishes gracefully away from the vicinity of the coal-box. The place where she has been stooping knows her no more.)
laura (rushing round the intervening table to investigate). Julia!
(Martha is quite as much surprised as Mrs. James, but less indignant.)
martha. Well! Did you ever?
laura (facing about after vain search). Does she think that is the proper way to behave to me? Julia!
martha. It's no good, Laura. You know Julia, as well as I do. If she makes up her mind to a thing——
laura. Yes. She's been waiting here to exercise her patience on me, and now she's happy! Well, she'll have to learn that this house doesn't belong to her any longer. She has got to accommodate herself to living with others. . . . I wonder how she'd like me to go and sit in that pet chair of hers?
julia (softly reappearing in the chair which the 'dear Mother' usually occupies). You can go and sit in it if you wish, Laura.