credit--and she herself places it there emphatically--that she always
treats_ _servants humanly, though at a distance. And when she now speaks
she confers her slight remark just a little as though it were a favour._

JULIA. How the days are drawing out, Hannah.

HANNAH. Yes, Ma'am; nicely, aren't they?

(_For Hannah, being old-established, may say a thing or two not in the
strict order. In fact, it may be said that, up to a well-understood
point, character is encouraged in her, and is allowed to peep through in
her remarks._)

JULIA. What time is it?

HANNAH (_looking with better eyes than her mistress at the large ormolu
clock which records eternally the time of the great Exhibition_). Almost
a quarter to six, Ma'am.

JULIA. So late? She ought to have been here long ago.

HANNAH. Who, Ma'am, did you say, Ma'am?

JULIA. My sister, Mrs. James. You remember?

HANNAH. What, Miss Martha, Ma'am? Well!

JULIA. No, it's Miss Laura this time: you didn't know she had married, I
suppose?

HANNAH (_with a world of meaning, well under control_). No, Ma'am. (_A
pause._) I made up the bed in the red room; was that right, Ma'am?

JULIA (_archly surprised_). What? Then you knew someone was coming? Why
did you pretend, Hannah?

HANNAH. Well, Ma'am, you see, you hadn't _told_ me before.

JULIA. I couldn't. One cannot always be sure. (_This mysteriously._) But
something tells me now that she is to be with us. I have been expecting
her over four days.

HANNAH (_picking her phrases a little, as though on doubtful ground_). It
must be a long way, Ma'am. Did she make a comfortable start, Ma'am?

JULIA. Very quietly, I'm told. No pain.

HANNAH. I wonder what she'll be able to eat now, Ma'am. She was always
very particular.

JULIA. I daresay you will be told soon enough. (_Thus in veiled words she
conveys that Hannah knows something of Mrs. James's character._)

HANNAH (_resignedly_). Yes, M'm.

JULIA. I don't think I'll wait any longer. If you'll bring in tea now.
Make enough for two, in case: pour it off into another pot, and have it
under the tea-cosy.

HANNAH. Yes, Ma'am.

(_Left alone, the dear lady enjoys the sense of herself and the small
world of her own thoughts in solitude. Then she sighs indulgently._)

JULIA. Yes, I suppose I would rather it had been Martha. Poor Laura!
(_She puts out her hand for her crochet, when it is arrested by the sound
of a knock, rather rapacious in character._) Ah, that's Laura