julia. She hasn't got quite—used to herself yet.
martha (explosively). Put that away somewhere!
(She gives an angry shove to the wreath.)
julia. Put it away! Why?
martha (furiously). Emily made it: and it didn't cost anything; and it hasn't got any maiden-hair fern in it; and it's too big to wear with her cap. So it's good for nothing! Put it on the fire! She doesn't want to see it again.
julia (comprehending the situation, restores the wreath to its box). Why did you bring it here, Martha?
martha (miserably). I don't know. I just clung on to it. I suppose it was on my mind to look after it, and see it wasn't damaged. So I found I'd brought it with me. . . . I believe, now I think of it, I've brought some sandwiches, too. (She routs in a small hand-bag.) Yes, I have. Well, I can have them for supper. . . . Emily made those too.
julia. Then I think you'd better let Hannah have them—for the sake of peace.
martha (woefully). I thought I was going to have peace here.
julia. It will be all right, Martha—presently.