JULIA. It will be all right, Martha--presently.

MARTHA. Well, I don't want to be uncharitable; but I do wish--I must say
it--I do wish Laura had been cremated.

(_This is the nearest she can do for wishing her sister in the place to
which she thinks she belongs. But the uncremated Mrs. James now re-enters
in widow's cap_.)

LAURA. Julia, have you ever seen Papa, since you came here?

JULIA (_frigidly)._ No, I have not.

LAURA. Has our Mother seen him?

JULIA. I haven't--(_About to say the forbidden thing, she checks
herself_.) Mamma has _not_ seen him: nor does she know his
whereabouts.

LAURA. Does nobody know?

JULIA. Nobody that I know of.

LAURA. Well, but he must be somewhere. Is there no way of finding him?

JULIA. Perhaps you can devise one. I suppose, if we chose, we could go to
him; but I'm not sure--as he doesn't come to us.

LAURA. Lor', Julia! Suppose he should be----