All language subtitles for The.Gilded.Age.S01E01.Never.The.New.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NOSiViD

Hyah, hyah!

Hup, hup!

Hup, hup.

Come on. Hyah.

Come on, come on.

- Take those packages to--
- Whoa.

- Careful with those.
They're fragile.

Go slow!

- Give that to Mr. Prue.
- This way, this way.

- Hoisting it up!
- Careful, careful!

- Okay!
- Let's go! Let's go!

- We're gonna go back
for another load!

Morning, Mr. Griffin.

They're moving in
at last, then.

- Looks like it.
- Ah, bad news, I'm afraid.

- They're old.
They get bad news every week.

- You're all heart.
- I got it!

I got it!

- Looks like another one.
- Oh, dear.

I wonder who that is now.

- I'll take those.
Thank you, John.

- Why not let Miss Armstrong
carry them up?

Or that one at least.

Thank you, Mrs. Bauer,

but I think I know
what I'm doing.

I'm afraid none of them

are worth the paper
they're printed on.

- But surely with the railroad
spreading all over the country.

Every day, the papers talk
of some new millionaire

who's made his fortune
out of railways.

- And every day,
the bankruptcy courts

see rail companies go under,

taking their owners
and investors down with them.

Miss Brook, the plain fact is,

I've looked into the estate
of the late Mr. Brook.

The late General Brook.

- The late General Brook,
and I cannot find any assets

beyond the contents
of his bank account.

And the house.

- The house is rented,
Miss Brook.

I'm sure that's wrong.

No, I'm afraid not.

- But my father always said--

I see.

So how much is left?

- I've paid the funeral charges
and other outstanding accounts,

and I will waive my own fee.

- There's no need.
- There is every need.

You will have
in your possession

somewhere in the region of $30.

- You see, Mr. Raikes,
none of this

is what my father told me.

So I gathered.

- What are you going to do?
- I'm not sure.

- You mentioned your father's
sisters in New York.

- My aunts
were not on good terms

with my father, Mr. Raikes.

They disliked him,
and he disliked them,

so they have played
no part in my life.

- I would only ask you
to consider your options,

realistically.

- You mean
beggars can't be choosers?

- Well, the rent is paid
to the end of the month.

Perhaps you will signal
your intentions

before that point is reached?

- Perhaps I will.
Thank you.

- I'm sorry
I couldn't be more help.

- Don't worry, Mr. Raikes,
I'm not beaten yet.

- At the risk of impertinence,
I would say

you're a long way
from being beaten, Miss Brook.

What does she say?

- She thanks you
for the letter

that you did not show me

and for the tickets
that you purchased

without my knowledge.

She means to join us here

just as soon
as she has closed the house

and sold her furniture.

- Oh, what a relief.
- A relief?

And who is to support her?

Exactly. Me.

With the Van Rhijn money,

which was not achieved
at no cost to myself.

You were allowed

the pure and tranquil life
of a spinster.

I was not.

- I'm very grateful.
- So you should be.

- Well, I'm glad she's coming.

- And if my letter
played a part in her decision,

then I'm glad I sent it.

I doubt it was your letter.

More likely, she has discovered
her father left her

without a penny to her name.

Henry couldn't provide
for a dog in a ditch.

He never kept a dollar
in his pocket

if there were women or drink
within 500 miles.

Agnes, our brother has died.

Our brother with whom

we have had no connection
these many years.

- We should have gone
for the funeral anyway.

- It wasn't worth
an uncomfortable day of travel

to make sure Henry was dead.

- At least
there's a railway station

in Doylestown now,
unlike in our day,

but she'll need to get up early

to catch the first train
to Lansdale,

and then she'll have to change
at Bethlehem

and take
the Lehigh Valley Railroad

to Exchange Place
in Jersey City,

and then catch the ferry
across the Hudson

to Desbrosses Street.

From there, she could take
an elevated train--

- Are you planning
to open a travel business?

No.

- Then what on Earth makes you
think I would be interested?

I only meant
it's a long journey, Agnes.

12 hours or more.

- And what are we
to do with her

now that she's on her way
to disturb our peace?

Perhaps she'd like to work.

If her father
has left her penniless,

maybe she could be a governess.

- A niece of mine a governess?
- She's my niece too.

- I've not noticed
you volunteering

to make a contribution
to the household

as a governess.

- We are
her only living relatives.

We owe her the duty of care.

We do not owe her anything.

Her father robbed us
of all that we possessed.

Look at this.

Invitations, charity appeals,

questions from bankers
and brokers.

When am I expected
to answer them all?

It's not fair.

Is it that woman again?

- You must be pleased
they're moving in

and we have peace at last.

- I don't know which is worse,
the noise of the builders,

or the chance of running
into her in the street.

- Good afternoon, Mrs. Russell.
- Mr. White.

- You've never seen it
without scaffolding.

It's everything you promised.

Steady on!

Mrs. Russell, Mr. White.

Oh.

I'm pleased with the size.

Big enough to be splendid
without being oppressively so.

I agree.

One needs
to be able to breathe.

Why is he
bringing that downstairs?

- I want to try
and put the other Boucher

in the drawing room.

Is that from the gallery?

- Is that
from the Palazzo Borghese?

- No, the Hôtel de Soubise
in the Marais.

You're thinking of the clock
in the library.

- Another inch.
- As you wish, Mrs. Russell.

- The carpets work well
in here, I think.

- I wasn't convinced
they'd go together,

but they do.

I wish you wouldn't
do that in here.

- What is the smoking room for?
- To entertain my friends.

And I will not be told
what I can and can't do

in my own library.

- The windows can be opened
when you go to change.

- I'll ask Mrs. Bruce.
- Hm?

The new housekeeper.

- Why did you get rid
of Mrs. Findley?

- She wasn't up to it,
not for what I have in mind.

Hmm.

Did you know
they shot Jesse James?

- He had his troubles.
I have mine.

What--

Mm.

So how was your afternoon?

- I've left cards
with Mrs. Stevens,

Mrs. Rutherfurd, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Vanderbilt,

Mrs. Schermerhorn,
and Mrs. Astor, of course.

- Of course.
- So now they know we're here.

- We have been in New York City
for three years, Bertha,

watching this house
rise from the sidewalk.

- But we've been stuck
down on 30th Street

with yesterday's men.

You chose the house.

- I didn't know
how things worked then.

Now I do.

The point is, we're settled
where we should be,

and that's what
I wanted to show them.

- They don't care.
They don't know we exist.

Well, they will now,

and there's no need
to sound superior.

We cannot succeed in this town
without Mrs. Astor's approval.

I know that much.

- So we are to bow down
before a woman

who has less money than me,

and less of
absolutely everything than you.

I'm only doing it for you,

and Larry and Gladys,
of course.

Of course.

I want people to see

they come
from a good background.

They'd be lucky to welcome them
into their homes.

- Would they be lucky
to welcome me into their homes,

or you?

- You can laugh,
but we'll get there.

I just have
to manage it carefully.

- The Russell family
has managed

pretty well so far,
if you ask me.

- Because they didn't know
any better.

Mrs. Van Rhijn
and her sad sister

were spying on me
when I came back.

- I don't know
why you bother with them.

I don't bother with them.

Careful, that table belonged
to King Ludwig of Bavaria.

- He had it once.
I've got it now.

I'm going up to change.

I want to get
out of this corset.

Church, could you tell Turner
I've gone to my room?

- She is
already upstairs, madam.

- Is Miss Gladys
back from her walk?

- She's with Miss Grant
in the school room.

- And is everything ready
for Mr. Larry's return?

I believe so, madam,

but I will check
with Mrs. Bruce.

Thank you, Church.

Yes, once more...

She's gone up to change.

- And he won't be long.
I should go.

Tell him I'm making a list

of what is not right
about this kitchen.

- The master won't bother
with that.

I'll tell the mistress
what you want, if you mean it.

- I think
it's going to work well.

It's far bigger
than the last place.

- You didn't mind that.
- It was only rented.

Abandoned by its owner
because 30th Street

is out of fashion.

Why complain about a house
when it's rented?

- I'd say this is
three times the size.

If you ask me, we're well-off.

- Shouldn't you be on your way
upstairs, Mr. Watson?

Oh, Mrs. Bauer,

I hope she won't make
extra work for you.

Miss Marian, I mean.
You must say if it's too much.

Oh, I don't mind.

I think she may
brighten the place up a bit.

- Yes, that's rather what
Mrs. Van Rhijn is afraid of.

Morning, sir.

- That'll be all.
Thank you, Miss Ainsley.

I'd say we're all set
for a clear run

from New York to Chicago.

- Mr. Thorburn is still
making trouble on his stretch.

- Mm, from Cleveland to Toledo?
- Mm.

I don't care much.

- What will you do
if he won't play ball?

- Build another line,
right alongside his.

It'll show the world
we mean business.

- And ruin Thorburn
in the process.

- You can't make an omelet
without breaking eggs.

- Then the next step
is for the city aldermen

to grant permission
for the new station.

Grant permission?

You make them sound
very important.

- Not half as important
as they think they are,

but the fact remains,
we need them to pass the law.

- Have we got a list
of their names?

Right here.

Shall I round up
our detectives,

see if they can dig up
anything useful?

Not yet.

We'll start by appealing
to their greed.

But do nothing now.
I'll tell you when to begin.

- You're kind to take me
at such an early hour.

Not at all.

- There is only a bed
and a chair left,

so perhaps you could give those
to a charity.

- Have you slept at all?
You look worn out.

- Just what every woman
wants to hear.

This is the receipt
for your trunk.

It should be delivered
this evening.

- Can you manage until then?
- I can.

- You're not to wait.
- Oh, I don't mind.

No, I insist.

You have to get on,
and the train won't be long.

Well, I guess this is it.

I'm sorry you're going,
Miss Brook.

May I say that without offense?

- But you're glad
I will be taken care of.

I understand.

You have my address
in New York.

- I do.
May I write to you?

I don't think so, Mr. Raikes.

- I only meant if there was
any further business,

- business to be dealt with.
- Oh, I'm--

I see.

Well, in that case,
I suppose you'll need to.

- I'll say goodbye, Miss Brook,
and good luck on your travels.

And good luck to you.

- What do you mean,
you don't know where it is?

- I don't know.
How is that hard?

- You're a damn liar.
- What'd you call me?

Break it up!

- Ah!
- Oh!

Get back here, you bastard!

- Oh. Ah.
I'm so sorry about that.

- Oh, it's all right.
I can fix it.

They've gone.

- That was
the most frightful thing.

Train for Lansdale.

My purse.

- Have your tickets ready.
- Here you are, sir.

- Excuse me, sir,
my ticket was in my purse.

There were two men fighting,
and somehow,

it must have been taken
during the commotion.

Sorry, miss.

- No, please, sir,
I have to get to New York.

Not without a ticket.

- You haven't seen a purse,
by any chance?

I'm afraid not.

- It had my train
and ferry tickets and my money,

and I don't know
what I'm going to do.

- Are you from around here?
- Yes.

- Can't you go home to get
money for the next train?

- There is no home
to go back to.

And anyway,
my trunk's on this one.

I'm so sorry.

This isn't your concern.

Please, don't let me
hold you up.

We have to board last.

Oh, I see.

- I'm sorry
it's not first class.

- Nonsense.
You've been very kind,

especially when
I tore your skirt.

I promise, my aunts are
good for the money.

I imagine they are

if they live
on East 61st Street.

So you know New York?

- My parents live in Brooklyn.
- Oh.

I grew up there.

This is my first trip.

Mm.

- You must give me
your parents' address

to send the money.

- I don't know
if I'll be staying with them.

I have some business
that needs looking into,

but I'm not sure
where I'll be based.

Then how shall I repay you?

- I'll come to your
aunts' house in a day or two,

if you could leave an envelope
to be collected.

Of course.

Well?

I guess it's big enough.

- If you're going
to do a thing,

you might as well
do it properly.

What do you think
of the paneling in your room?

Why?

- Mr. White found it
in the Château de Chavaniac,

the home of Lafayette.

- It's very fine,
but I should get going.

I'm catching the 11:00 train
to Rhode Island.

- But you've only
just got home.

Is that what this is?

- Well, take a later train
at least.

We haven't seen you
all semester.

But it'll be fun.

It's the one
Mrs. Fish told us to catch,

and most of the party
are traveling on it.

- Who is in the party?
Do you know?

The usual crowd.

Ogden Goelet and his wife,
the Joneses,

the Wilsons, Carrie Astor--

Carrie Astor?

- I think so.
- DO you know her?

- You never said.
- I don't, not really.

- Not much.
- Then get to know her.

- And catch that train.
- Mother.

I know what I'm doing.

- We've finished the gilding
in the ballroom, Mrs. Russell.

- No, you think you have
finished the gilding,

Mr. Kowalski, but nothing
is finished till I decide.

- I'm going, Mother.
Where is Gladys?

- Why?
- I want to say goodbye to her.

I'll say it for you.

She's gone to the park
with Miss Grant.

She's not a child anymore,

and you shouldn't treat her
as one.

- She's a child until I say.
Where are your bags?

- My trunk
will be delivered tomorrow,

and what I need
for Newport's in the carriage.

- Then hurry, and give
my regards to Mrs. Fish.

- Don't be silly.
You don't know her.

Not yet, but I will.

Now, come along, Mr. Kowalski,

show me
what you think you've done.

Here it comes now.

- I don't like
the look of that sky.

So this is to be my home.

Funny, I never imagined I'd be
wistful for Pennsylvania.

Then why did you leave?

- There is nothing there
for me anymore,

not since my father died.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Will you go to Brooklyn now?

I suppose so.

It's too late for me
to make another plan,

and I can catch the last ferry,
even if I don't much want to.

- Well, I hope
it all works out for you,

and once again,
thank you for what you did.

Please ask for me
when you come for the money.

- Of course, and good luck
with your aunts.

- Desbrosses Street ferry
coming in.

That's us.

- Desbrosses Street ferry
coming in.

- Tickets. Tickets.

Tickets please!

- Desbrosses Street ferry
coming in!

How are things at the office?

- Don't start him on that,
I beg you.

- I suppose father's business
is what we all depend on.

- I hope the weather
is better in Newport.

When does Larry come back?

- Not before the day
after tomorrow.

- I suppose he has
some oats to sow

now that college is over.

- When will he start with you?
- Straight away, I imagine.

Nothing to be gained
from delay.

Why not invite your sister
to stay for a while?

I don't think so.

- What about your old friends?
You never see them now.

- I don't want my old friends.
I want new friends.

- Whoa, hey!
- That's enough of that.

Wait.

Give me a moment.

Come with me.

Let us
at least give you a ride.

Thank you.

- Can we take her
to the Brooklyn ferry?

- No ferrys are running,
not in this weather.

I'll be fine.

I'm not leaving without you.

Very well.

- Oh, that's her now.
- It is.

Come on, John.
Look lively.

I wonder what she'll be like.

Well, we'll know soon enough.

- Welcome to East 61st Street,
Miss Marian.

My name is Bannister,
Mrs. Van Rhijn's butler.

And this is?

- Miss Scott.
Miss Peggy Scott.

Miss Scott traveled with me,

but they've canceled
the ferries to Brooklyn.

I'm rather hoping
Mrs. Van Rhijn

will allow her to rest here
until the storm has passed.

I see.

Mrs. van Rhijn's in
the drawing room with Miss Ada.

Then I'll ask them.

If Miss Scott
could wait downstairs?

Of course.

- An unknown colored woman
lent you money

to travel to New York?

That seems very unlikely.

Unlikely or not, it's true.

And she's here, now?

- Well, her parents
live in Brooklyn,

but the cab driver said
the ferries aren't running.

- Well, then of course
she must stay.

Mustn't she, Agnes?

Bring her in first.

I have to meet anyone
who's going to be in my house.

Of course, ma'am.

- Marian, you must be hungry.
- Not really.

- We'll have Mrs. Bauer
send something up to her room.

It seems we owe you
a considerable debt,

Miss Scott.

I gather you would like
to stay here?

- I don't want
to be a nuisance.

- I forced Miss Scott
into the cab

to get her out of the storm.

- The wind gusts alone
could blow you

all the way to Fifth Avenue.

So she can stay, Aunt Agnes?

- We can't have Miss Scott
blown into oblivion.

Yes, you may stay,
and in the morning,

Bannister can fetch the money
from the bank to repay you.

Thank you.

I have never found myself
in such an odd predicament.

I appreciate your kindness.

- You may stay

that you give me
your parents' address

in case anything happens.

Nothing will happen to me.

- I won't be in a position
of having no one to contact

if it does.

Very well.

- I hope the ferry crossing
wasn't too rough, dear.

No, not at all.

- Who taught you
to write like this?

- The Institute
for Colored Youth

in Philadelphia.

But I know it well.

My father was a patron

when it first opened
in the '30s.

I grew up in Pennsylvania,
outside Doylestown.

We used to attend

the wonderful
Christmas pageants

at the school.

- Were you a part of that?
- Every year.

- Oh!

- Let's get you settled,
Miss Scott,

before my sister begs you
to sing a carol.

Go down to the kitchens

and ask Mrs. Bauer
to find you a room.

Thank you.

- Now, Marian,
have you made any plans yet?

- She's only
just arrived, Agnes.

I haven't made any plans, no.

- I suppose
you only recently learned

that your father
had let you down.

- Please don't speak ill
of Daddy.

- I will say what I like
in my own house.

Not to me.

I thought I might find a job.

- Would that be
out of the question?

- Only if you wish
to live with me.

- Well, I don't want
to be idle.

Perhaps there's a charity
that could use my services.

- How generous,
and how suitable.

- That depends
on the charity she chooses,

but first we must attend
to your clothes, my dear.

You will go tomorrow with Ada
to my dressmaker,

and no black.

But I'm in mourning.

- People here won't know
when Henry died.

You're making your debut
in society.

You are young and pretty

and need to be shown
to advantage.

I don't want you hanging about
on the edge of things

like a lonely crow.

Ada, remember,

I want cheerful colors,
whatever she says.

- But--

- We must look out
for some people

with sons and daughters
your age.

- That's true.
I don't know anyone.

- Now, you need to know
we only receive

the old people in this house,

not the new.

- Never the new.
- What's the difference?

- The old have been in charge
since before the revolution.

They ruled justly
until the new people invaded.

- It's not quite as simple
as that.

- Yes, it is.
- Well, I'm new.

I've only just arrived.

- Marian,
never mind that the Brooks

have been in Pennsylvania
for a century and a half.

My mother, your grandmother,
was a Livingston

of Livingston Manor,

and they came to this city
in 1674.

You belong to old New York,
my dear,

and don't let anyone
tell you different.

You are my niece,

and you belong to old New York.

- Wil you fetch Miss Scott
some supper, Bridget?

- I don't want
to be any trouble.

No, no, please, sit down.

I hope they've made a room
ready for you.

Oh, we had one prepared

in case Miss Marian
brought a maid.

- Mm-hmm.

Mrs. Bauer is on the top floor

with you and Miss Armstrong
and Bridget.

John and I sleep down here.

- She's on the same floor
as us?

Is there some difficulty?

Ah, there you are, then.

Do you drink coffee?

Yes, I drink coffee.

Thank you.

I just wanted to be sure.

- But are we to share
the same bathroom,

the same water closet?

- She can hardly use a bucket
under the stairs.

Is that right, Mr. Bannister?

- It's not for us
to have an opinion.

- I don't want trouble
in the house,

and while she may not
want to cause it,

she may be the cause of it.

- I repeat, it is not for us
to have an opinion,

certainly not that one.

- But how long is she here for,
and why is she here at all?

- Because she performed
a great service

for Miss Marian.

- I'm going to bed.
- Good night.

- I think that Miss Scott
seems nice.

- Which is all you know.
- Yes, it is.

And I'm sticking to it
until she proves me wrong.

- That's all very well
for you to say,

but they're coming up here now
to take our jobs.

- She's not taking
anyone's job.

- See?
She'll disrupt things.

I told Mrs. Bauer,
but she wouldn't listen.

- Maybe we need
a bit of disruption.

Ugh.

Oh.

Excuse me.

- Miss Scott, I think
this is what we owe you.

Thank you.

- While he was out,
Bannister checked,

and the Brooklyn ferry
is still not running.

The docks were damaged
in the storm.

You may have to stay here
another night.

Will your family be concerned?

- They weren't expecting me,
so no.

Really?

Oh, thank you.

I'm overwhelmed with papers.

I've never been this behind
on my correspondence.

- Mrs. Van Rhijn,
please tell me

if there's anything
I can do to help.

- Well, you do have
the penmanship for it.

- I can take dictation.
I know Pitman shorthand.

It's the least I can do
to repay you.

- I will dictate some letters,
if you insist,

but they will only be
very dull ones, I'm afraid.

- Gladys, that's bad
for your eyes.

Sit nearer the window.

- Just delivered by hand,
ma'am.

Thank you, Church.

A Mrs. Morris and a Mrs. Fane

want me to support a charity
in aid of orphaned girls.

- Is that Mrs. Patrick Morris
and Mrs. Charles Fane?

- Uh, yes it is.
Why?

- Their husbands
are city aldermen.

I may have some business
with them.

What do the wives want of you?

- Well, to start with,
there's a meeting

for friends of the cause to be
held at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

- Really?
Not in one of their own houses?

- I dare say
a hotel was more convenient.

- I hear
the Fifth Avenue's slipping.

No one wants to be
down on 23rd Street anymore.

- I won't let you spoil it
for me.

I don't want to spoil it.

- It's beginning.
I knew it would.

Persistence is the key
to everything.

Patience and persistence.

Useful qualities, I agree.

Could I come, Mother, please?

- Take her.
Why not?

- I'll think about it.
- When is it?

On the 1st.

- I'm seeing John Thorburn
that day.

Who's he?

A man who owns a railroad

and thinks he can
get the better of me.

He'll find out.

Nicely done, Miss Scott.
Thank you.

Not at all.

Look who I found in my room.

- Must we have
that horrid thing in here?

- I think we must.
Don't you, Aunt Ada?

Absolutely.

- Have you had a nice walk, dear?
- I have.

Your suitcase is mended.
I brought it back myself.

- Oh.
- I've put it in your room.

- You carried a suitcase
through the streets?

- Oh, have I broken
another rule?

- You were to check
it was ready

and then send the footman
to collect it.

And never go out unaccompanied.

Please don't do
such a thing again.

I should leave you.

- Miss Scott,
I've just had another thought.

Clearly, I'm in need of help
with my correspondence.

I don't know
what your plans are,

but if you're interested,

I would like to hire you
as my secretary.

That does interest me.

- I would need a reference,
of course.

- I can get you one
from the principal

at the institute.

But working on 61st
and staying in Brooklyn

presents a challenge,

even once the ferries
are running.

- It seems to me, Miss Scott,
that you are not eager

to return home.

Very well.

You may stay here
for the time being,

but you must arrange
to see your parents

and tell them where you are.

You've got their address.

- I will not have a fugitive
in my house

hiding from her family.

All right.

- You will make a plan
to see them?

- I'll arrange
to meet my mother.

- I thought you wanted
to avoid them.

I want to avoid him.

Thank you, Mrs. Van Rhijn.

- Ah, we have a surprise
for you.

It came by hand.

Mrs. Fane is a niece
of my husband,

and Mrs. Morris
was born a Stuyvesant,

so we thought it suitable

for you to begin
your charitable career.

- Training orphans
to be servants?

- To save them
from...something worse.

- There's no need
to go into that.

- But it's addressed to you,
not me.

- They want a donation from us,
but they'll be delighted

when we offer them
a pair of willing hands.

- There'll be
other young women there

your own age.

And background.

Very well.

- Are you looking
for your mistress?

No, no, not especially, sir.

I'm just on my way upstairs.

- Tread carefully, Miss Turner.
I speak as a friend.

You can tread too carefully.

- Mr. Russell, have you met
Miss Caroline Astor?

We've met a few times,

but we don't really
know each other.

- We do now.
- Come on.

You must play something.

- But we're having
such a nice time where we are.

- What makes you think
I brought you here

to have a nice time?

Carrie,
make Mr. Russell play croquet.

- Any fool can play croquet.
- But they've started the game.

- Well, barge in
and make them start over.

Mr. Wilson.

- Mrs. Fish is unusual,
isn't she?

To say the least.

Let's just find some mallets,
and then we can stand

at the edge of the lawn
without attracting attention.

How do you know her?

- Her nephew was
at Harvard with me,

but as to why she took me up,
it's anyone's guess.

- Handsome young men who talk
are always useful.

That's what my mother says.

- And a girl should
always listen to her mother.

- Mr. Van Rhijn,
I thought you weren't coming.

- I heard you were in Europe.
- I was.

I've only just got home.

I haven't told anyone
I'm back yet,

but then I thought,
why the devil not?

- May I present Mr. Russell.
- I know how you feel.

I came down from college,
and I left minutes later,

my mother practically calling

down East 61st Street
as I went.

Where are you on East 61st?

- My parents have built a house
on the corner of Fifth Avenue.

- They just moved in.
- But I know it well.

My mother lives
almost opposite.

Huh.

- Why did they choose
to live so far uptown?

- It's not as far up
as it used to be,

and they wanted a building plot
on the Avenue.

My parents are
Mr. and Mrs. George Russell.

Has your mother spoken of them?

- Yes, but not
as acquaintances.

- You've moved in, then.
- I suppose we have.

We?

- My father, my mother,
and my sister.

How cozy that sounds.

- I don't understand
why they have taken you in.

I did Miss Brook a good turn.

- What sort of good turn?
- It doesn't matter.

- I brought the clothes
as you asked.

Thank you.

So what's next?

I sell an article or a story.

- You know, your father thinks
that will never happen.

- Which is just one
of the many reasons

why I can't come home.

- Eventually,
you have to forgive him.

- He was just protecting you.
- From what?

From a poor choice

that could have
ruined your life.

- Well, I'm back
in New York anyway.

- Why did you choose
this place?

I like it.

When will you come home?

I've told you, I have a job

and the fresh start
that I need.

- You know you get your
stubbornness from your father?

- I don't want
to talk about him.

He loves you,

and he only wants
the best for you.

- I know he feels
what he thinks is love,

but I disagree
with his definition.

- Maybe he can be hard
and demanding,

but he was only thinking
of your welfare.

I swear.

- But you can't swear
because you weren't there.

Don't force me to take sides.

What are you using for money?

I don't need money.

I'm fed, I'm paid,
and I have a place to stay.

- Well, I brought you some.
You take it.

- I've told you
I don't need it.

- Don't be silly.
I'm your mother.

I'm allowed to give you money.

Thank you.

I'm going now.

You just remember,
we are all held fast,

frozen in time
until you finally allow us

to move forward.

- Will there be
anything else, ma'am?

- You tell me.
Will there?

- It might be better
without the broach.

It's too much?

Yes, it's too much.

Right, that's it.

- Thank you.

Excuse us.

- Mrs. Morris?
- I'm Mrs. Fane.

Mrs. Morris is over there.

- Mrs. Russell,
Mrs. George Russell,

and this is my daughter Gladys.

Oh.

- From further up Fifth Avenue,
on the corner of 61st Street?

But of course.

That great--that new house
we've all been talking about.

How good of you to come.

Let me introduce you
to Mrs. Russell, Mrs. Morris.

How do you do?

- Mrs. Russell has come here
today with her daughter

from their new house
on the corner

of 61st and Fifth.
It's just been finished.

You must know the one I mean.

- How thrilling.
- Who built it for you?

- Our architect
trained in Europe.

Mr. Stanford White.

You must pay us a visit.

- How brave not to go
with the same old builders

everyone else uses.

- I don't think we should
be afraid of new things

or new people.

- How often we have said
to each other,

"We must know the family

who live
in that marvelous house."

Every time we drive past,
and here you are.

I hope we can persuade you
to an interest in our cause.

As you say, I'm here.

- And you, of course,
Miss Russell.

I trust you'll take our part.

- I certainly intend to.
- My daughter isn't out yet.

She's only here
to accompany me.

- Surely charitable work is
good for the spirit at any age.

It depends.

Who's that?

- Oh, Mrs. Chamberlain,
Mrs. Augustus Chamberlain.

- She seems to know
as few people as I do.

- Oh, I think she knows
a good many of the women here.

- They just don't want
to know her.

Aurora.

Aunt Ada. You are good.

- Nonsense.
- How is Aunt Agnes?

- Is she coming?
- I am her ambassadress.

And this is Miss Marian Brook,
our late brother's daughter.

How do you do, Miss Brook?

You know, my uncle was married
to your aunt,

and I think we're cousins
anyway through the Livingstons.

Are you in New York for long?

- Marian has come
to live with us,

and she wants to help out
with the charity,

if she can be useful.

- Why, this is manna
from heaven.

I'll send a note
this very afternoon.

I'm so sorry.

Uh, this is Miss Brook,
Miss Marian Brook.

- Mrs. Russell
and Miss Russell.

We are neighbors, I think.

Of course we are.

- Not that splendid new palace
right on the Avenue.

The very one.

- I was looking up
at those rows of windows

only this morning wondering
what lies behind them.

- Then you must cross the road
and see.

Isn't that so, Gladys?

- If Miss Brook
could spare the time.

Of course.

I think we should go in.

- Don't tell Aunt Agnes
they were here.

She'd be livid with me.

She'll find out.

- I feel rather sorry
for the girl.

- I liked them.
- That's not the point.

- What is the point?
- Let's face it, Aunt Ada.

We need money, and you know
how much those women give

when they want to get in.

- There's a price
for that, Aurora,

and it's no good thinking
you won't have to pay it.

Who is that?

That's Mrs. Chamberlain.

I don't understand you, sir.

You want to throw money away
just so you can ruin me?

- That's not
how I would put it.

- You intend to build
a new line

right alongside my own

all the way
from Cleveland to Toledo

just to put me out of business.

- I need that stretch,
and I want to control Sandusky.

Sandusky?

What the hell's Sandusky beyond
a bunch of tents and shanties?

- Sandusky can be
an important city

now the railroad
passes through,

and I want it to be my city.

- Then buy the track
that already exists

and save yourself thousands.

- But you turned me down,
twice.

I turned down your offer

because I thought
you'd come back with more.

It's called negotiation.

Not in my book, Mr. Thorburn.

You refused my bid,

and now I will build a new line
alongside yours.

Which would wipe me out.

- I'm afraid that'll be
a consequence, yes,

but it is not
my principal intention.

Oh, isn't it?

Well, thank the Lord.

Is there anything else?

Because I have
another appointment.

So what you are saying is,

you would rather
waste a fortune

than pay an honest price
for a line already operating?

- But I do not see it
as a waste.

Once people learn
that my second offer

is invariably my last,

they won't, as a rule,
refuse me.

Over the years, I expect
to save a lot more money

than I am spending now.

You bastard.

- I may be a bastard,
Mr. Thorburn,

but you are a fool,

and of the two,
I think I know which I prefer.

Now, good day to you, sir.

- Do you often come
to Newport, Miss Astor?

I will.

My parents bought a house here
last year, Beechwood.

They've nearly finished
the renovations,

so I suppose
I'll be here a lot.

- Oh, was there much to do
to the place?

- Well, obviously, my mother
couldn't live in a house

- without a ballroom.

You may laugh,

but as my mother
never tires of pointing out,

our future success in New York

depends entirely on the support
and approval of Mrs. Astor.

- Mm.
- I'm afraid it's true.

- She is quite a force.
- A force for good, I hope.

- Well, a force
to be reckoned with.

- The butler
was looking for you.

- Ah, he found me.
He had a letter from my mother.

She wrote that a cousin
has come to live with them

while I've been away,
Miss Marian Brook.

Mm.

- So that is something
to look forward to.

A dumpy spinster
with a face like a cabbage

and a figure to match.

We're going into dinner,
but before we do,

I want to warn you
that when you return,

you will find
tables have been set up

for the game of Cinch,
and you are all playing.

- But suppose
we don't know how.

- Then you will learn
during dinner.

Cinch? Do we really have to?

I'd say there's no escape.

- I'm so sorry that got torn.
- It wasn't your fault.

- How was your excursion?
- So-so.

At least she brought me
some of my clothes.

What are the staff here like?

- Nice on the whole,
with one or two exceptions.

I ought to go down
and say hello.

Marian?

Ah.

Marian.

- I've decided
to give an at home.

- And what does that mean?
- You know perfectly well.

I'll send cards saying
we'll receive after dinner

on such and such an evening,
and they're welcome to look in.

Who are they?

Mrs. Fane was telling me

how curious people are
about the house.

They want our money, Bertha.

- It's a good cause.
- I'm sure.

And I'm glad
if you'd like to donate,

but please
don't deceive yourself

that their interest in us
is something more.

- George, we have
to start somewhere.

Everyone calls
on Mrs. Vanderbilt now.

They're seen everywhere.

- What's that
got to do with it?

- When his grandfather
arrived in New York,

no one would go near him.

- That was half a century ago.
What are you saying?

We have to keep this up
for 50 years,

and then someone may drop by?

- Things move faster nowadays.
- That's a relief.

- I think what father means
is that we--

They want to see this house.

They've watched it going up,

and now they'd like
to see inside.

- It doesn't make them
your friends.

- I'm not asking them
to dine or dance.

I won't use the ballroom.

I'll save that
for another time.

I just want them to look in,
and I don't think

they'll be able to resist.

Church, please tell Mrs. Bruce.

Yes, ma'am.

- Is it true Miss Ada
and Miss Marian

met Mrs. Russell
from across the road

at that charity event?

How do you know that?

- I saw one of their footmen
in the street,

and he was talking about it.

Miss Armstrong?

I don't think I should say.

- Don't tell me you're having
a fit of discretion,

Miss Armstrong.

- I don't understand.
Why does it matter?

- It'll matter when
Mrs. Van Rhijn hears about it.

- Oh, she'll have to give in
one day.

Why?

- Well, because they own
the future,

men like Mr. Russell,

and Mrs. Van Rhijn will have
to come to terms with it

sooner or later,
stands to reason.

- What will you do
if she doesn't?

- Me?
Nothing, I guess.

Oh, I see.

You spoke so definitely,
I thought you had

some course of action
planned in protest.

- No, Mr. Bannister.
- No, and don't you forget it.

- But what is the scale
of this at home to be?

- You can talk it through
with the mistress tomorrow.

- If they come, it will
only be out of curiosity

to see the house.

What makes you say that?

- The master is successful,
isn't he?

People want to know you
when you're a success.

It's when you fail
they turn their backs.

- You sound rather bitter,
Mr. Watson.

Oh, just stating the fact.

- Are you keeping
something from us?

- No.
- Come, Miss Turner.

There is no need
to put him on the spot.

- I don't need protection,
Mrs. Bruce,

thank you.

I've nothing to hide.

Well, if that is true,

you must be
a very unusual person.

Welcome home, Mr. Larry.

I hope you had
a pleasant journey.

- Yes, thank you.
It was very nice.

- Pumpkin!
Come back here!

Pumpkin!

Whoa!

Get out of the way!

Good heavens, that was brave.

- Anyone would have
done the same.

I doubt it,

or there'd be bodies
up and down Fifth Avenue.

- Are you a Van Rhijn?
- Almost.

Mrs. Van Rhijn is my aunt.
I'm Marian Brook.

- Oscar van Rhijn's cousin?
- Yes.

- Oh, you're not
as he described you.

Uh, I'm Larry Russell.

Ah.

Well, you'd better tell them

to keep him under control
in future.

- Nobody can keep Pumpkin
under control,

not for very long anyway.

- Miss Brook.
- Mr. Russell.

- Thank you, Church.
There's a good man.

Has my trunk arrived
from college?

- It has, and it's
been unpacked, Mr. Larry.

- Hello, there.
How is everything?

Much as usual,

except that Mother has decided
to give her first soirée.

There you are, dear.

- Have you had a lovely time?
- Lovely enough.

- You should have
your own valet

now you're down from Harvard.

It's not fair to burden Church.

- I gather we are going
to christen the new house.

- Just a few people calling in,
but I think it's time.

How many are coming?

- It's hard to say
if they don't accept

in a formal way,
but I think if we cater

for 200, it's probably safe.

Wow.

- I thought you'd like to ask
some friends of yours.

Such as?

- Such as Mrs. Fish
or the Goelets

or that nice Miss Astor.

I hardly know them.

I was only there
to make up numbers.

Are you inviting
Mrs. Van Rhijn?

- Maybe.
Now go and wash.

We'll have luncheon
in a minute.

- Why do you bring
that beastly dog?

Dogs are supposed to run
alongside carriages,

not travel in them.

- Oh, I think we must make
an exception for Pumpkin.

- I've asked Oscar for tea.
It's time he met you.

He'll have a friend with him,
John Adams.

That's nice.

- This John is Quincy Adams'
great-grandson.

You will call him Mr. Adams,

and wear
one of your new dresses.

I almost forgot.

Bannister gave me this
as I was leaving.

A footman left it
just before we came down.

It's from Mrs. Russell.

It's addressed to you,
as well, Marian.

Mrs. Van Rhijn, Miss Brook,
Miss Marian Brook.

- She's clearly had lessons
in etiquette.

- She's trying
to be neighborly.

- It's an invitation.
- Addressed to us?

- They were bound
to entertain soon.

They can't have built
that great house

to sit by the fire and read.

- Well, let them entertain
their own sort.

Heaven knows there are plenty
to choose from.

- Aunt Agnes,
I have a question.

Who is
Mrs. Augustus Chamberlain?

- Where have you heard
that name?

- Mrs. Chamberlain was at
Mrs. Fane's charity gathering.

- Was she, by heavens?
Ada, who else was there?

Pickpockets?
Newly released criminals?

What was Aurora thinking?

- One must remember
that the point of the exercise

is to raise money.

- That is no excuse
for risking the reputation

of every lady in the room.

Marian, when and if you see
Mrs. Chamberlain again,

you are to turn your face away.

- Is that clear?
- Very.

So what about
Mrs. Russell's party?

- I presume we're not going.
- Are you mad?

- Would you please see
that Mrs. Morris...

That Mrs. Fane...

That Mrs. Astor gets this?

I'm afraid Mrs. Fish
is not at home, madam.

Really?

Only she knows my son,
Larry Russell.

He was just staying with her
in Newport.

She's not at home, madam.

- But you'll give her my card
and this envelope?

- You'll say I called?
- Of course, madam.

- Thank you, gentlemen.
That's all.

Tell Atkins no.

Warn Schultz I'm interested,
but not yet convinced.

Give Brennan till 10:00
tomorrow morning,

- or the deal's off.
- Very good.

- Mr. Stanford White
is outside.

- Oh, bring him in.
Bring him in.

Thank you, Clay.

Mr. White,
sorry to drag you here

when no doubt
you've had a busy day.

- I hope nothing's wrong
with the house.

- Oh, quite the contrary.
It's working splendidly.

So splendidly, in fact,
that Mrs. Russell has decided

it is time we began
to entertain.

That's what it was built for.

- You will receive a card
from her.

She feels our guests will be
interested in the place.

She'd like you there
to answer questions.

- I should be honored,
of course.

I hope it's a success.

- Well, people are curious
about the house,

they want your money
for pet causes,

and your children
are both good-looking.

I'd say it will be.

Can you help her, Mr. White?

- How?
I'm not fashionable.

But I'm glad to be able
to thank you properly

for taking a chance on me.

- You have Mrs. Russell
to thank, not me.

Whatever her faults, she has
imagination and taste...

- Oh.
- And nerve.

- She will need all three
in New York.

- I've left them
for you to sign.

- Thank you, Miss Scott.
- Hello, Mother.

The wanderer has returned.

- You took your time
coming to tell me.

This is Miss Scott
who is helping with my post.

- My son, Mr. Van Rhijn.
- Hello.

I'll leave you.

Look at her work.

- Where's Mr. Adams?
- I'm meeting him here.

Why did you want me
to bring him?

You should have come earlier.

You've been home for ages,

and you've never even met
your cousin.

Well, I'm here now.

- How long will she be staying?
- Why?

- Well, I'll already have
Aunt Ada around my neck,

that's if anything
should happen to you.

- Why must you always
sound so sharp?

- I presume
I'm expected to keep

the house running indefinitely.

- I shouldn't worry
about Marian.

She'll be gone
long before I am.

- What makes you so sure?
- Marian, my dear.

I don't believe you have
ever met my son, Oscar.

Mr. Van Rhijn,

I was beginning to think
you were only a dream.

- Should we kiss?
We are cousins.

Let's shake hands for now.

- But I hope
you'll call me Oscar.

He's been in Europe.

I know. How I envy you.

- It was mostly dull meetings
and dusty boardrooms.

- Oh, I can't believe that.
- Mr. Adams.

- Mr. Adams, how good of you
to drop by.

- What can we give you?
- Nothing.

Thank you, Mrs. Van Rhijn.

- May I present Mr. Adams,
my dear.

Miss Marian Brook is my niece.

She has just arrived
in the city.

- Is it your first visit
to New York?

- It's my first visit
to almost anywhere.

Can you help me
with what I should see?

- I'm sure Mrs. Van Rhijn
will have

a comprehensive list
of museums.

- So the Russells have moved
into their house in my absence.

Don't remind me.

- I ran into the son
in Newport.

He's nice enough, and I gather
there's a daughter.

- I believe so.
- I should like to meet her.

- Are you going to their soirée?
- Of course not.

- Don't say such things.
- Mama, you are incorrigible.

- I take that
as the highest praise.

I need four more pallets.

- Rice stacked.
I'll be right back.

This way.

- She said 200,
but I must be ready

with more at a moment's notice
if we go over that figure.

So what's wrong?

- I'm not making
hand sandwiches.

I'm not making toast.

- I sympathize, monsieur,
but we have our orders.

- Madam does not understand how
these things should be managed.

- Ooh.
- I beg your pardon?

- You know as well as I do
she isn't one of them.

I used to work
for Mrs. Griswold on 50th.

That's why Madam hired me,

to teach her the ways
of the old people,

but Mrs. Griswold wouldn't
have come near this house.

- Then she was
a very stupid woman.

- The mistress is not a player
in the great game,

whatever she says.

- Well, Miss Turner, I hope
you can overcome your distaste

and give the mistress
a helping hand

with her clothes
for the evening.

Surely things are changing.

- Not fast enough
for Mrs. Russell.

- You always act
as if you liked her.

When I have to.

She does not have the manner
of the real people,

and she cannot learn it.

Mrs. Griswold would see
through her in a moment,

in just a moment.

- If she was so wonderful,
why did you leave?

Or were you fired?

- She died, Mr. Watson,
of a heart attack

just as she was changing
for Mrs. Astor's ball.

It was very hard
on Mr. Griswold.

- Because he was left
all alone.

- Because he wanted
to go to the ball.

- Oh, you're almost ready.
I should get changed.

There's no hurry.

I just want to be downstairs
to supervise

all the final details.

Oh, it feels as if
it's held on with nails.

You look superb.

So...

are you ready
for your trial by hospitality?

- Well, if I'm not ready now,
I never will be.

- What was it
your mother used to say?

"You are the only one
of my children

who is worthy of my dreams"?

- Much good
did those dreams do her.

She had nothing while she lived
and nothing when she died.

You loved her.

- That wasn't nothing.
- Thank you.

- Don't you think she'd be
proud of you this evening?

- I wonder.
Ask me again at midnight.

- I wish you'd invited
some of the old crowd.

The house will be
full of strangers.

- We're headed in a different
direction now, George.

- We're joining a different club.
- Mm.

Even if they don't want us
to be members?

Why shouldn't we be members?

I'm tired of letting
all those dull and stupid women

dictate the way
we live our lives.

Why, you've done more
for this city in ten years

than their families
have achieved in centuries.

Things are changing, Bertha.

- They can't change
fast enough for me.

And you've come a long way.

Even I can see that.

- I don't want to come
a long way.

I want to go all the way.

- I'd just like you
to be happy.

And I know my loving you
is not enough.

It's almost enough.

- I should go.
- Mm.

- Watson will be wondering
where I am.

Quite a spectacle, isn't it?

- Well, they sure are taking
a lot of trouble.

- It must seem hard
to miss the party,

but Agnes feels
so very strongly.

- She can't make me
dislike them.

- Nor would she want to.
- Yes, she would.

- Well, perhaps she would,
but I would not.

I'll see you downstairs.

You mustn't think harshly
of Agnes.

Her life has not
always been easy.

- Why did she hate
my father so?

He sold our family farms.

He sold the house
where we were born

and where we had lived
for a century and a half.

And then he just spent
the money.

He bought nothing.
He saved nothing.

He gave us,
his sisters, nothing.

- So she felt
he'd betrayed you both.

That's how it was for her.

You see, our father had
died quite young,

and we depended
on Henry entirely.

- So she wasn't
already married?

- No, but he'd proposed,
and so she felt

she had no choice.

Henry had let us down,
and there was nothing for it

but to marry Mr. Van Rhijn.

And he was not an easy man.

He was not a man

you would like
to be alone with.

All I ask is that
you give us a chance.

We are not as Henry
described us to you.

Please...

just give us a chance.

- Is everything
ready downstairs?

- They're all
rather excited, sir.

Been waiting to entertain
on a grand scale

since we got here.

- As long as we are
entertaining on a grand scale.

Take out the chrysanthemums.

I said specifically,
"No chrysanthemums."

Yes, ma'am.

- When are they laying
the carpet across the sidewalk?

They're doing it now, madam.

- And Monsieur Baudin
isn't too hysterical?

- Well...
- We should start dinner.

Why don't you look in?

You needn't stay for long.

Aunt Agnes would have a fit.

Does she have to know?

I could wait downstairs

to make sure
you can get back in.

My fellow conspirator.

We must let them get in here.

They need to clear away
and start laying the supper.

- No cigars and brandy
for you, Father.

- We could go
to the smoking room.

- Is there anything
I can do, Mother?

- Go to bed.
- She's not a child.

So you keep telling me.

- Well, no one will mind
that she isn't officially out,

not in her own mother's house.

- Why isn't she out, anyway?
She ought to be.

She should have made
her debut this year.

- I wish to present her
at a ball in this house,

and I'm not giving one until
I know we can fill the rooms.

- Let he stay, my dear.

If you're all
going to bully me--

I can help.

- Oh, very well.
Go and get changed.

- Church, tell them to come in.
- Very good, ma'am.

- I think I may go up
and lie down.

I've got rather a headache.

What about an early night?

- I'll see.
You wouldn't mind?

Not at all.

Where's Marian?

- She's gone upstairs.
She has a headache.

She was asking earlier
why you disliked Henry so.

Did you tell her?

- I did, but I tried
not to make it too vivid.

- She can be
so like him at times.

She speaks
and I hear Henry's voice,

challenging everything
just as he did.

And look how that turned out.

- Well, I like
her strong views.

I like her energy.

Don't worry, Agnes,
she's clever.

- She'll learn the rules.
- Will she?

Revolutions are launched
by clever people

with strong views
and excess energy.

- Thank you.
- Miss Brook, welcome.

If you'll come this way.

- Miss Brook.
- Ah.

- Miss Brook,
what a nice surprise.

Are your aunts with you?

- I'm afraid
they couldn't get away.

- But you are made
of sterner stuff.

Ah, Larry.

May I present my son,
Larry Russell.

Miss Marian Brook.
You're neighbors.

You should know each other.

- Mrs. Fane.
- Oh, yes, thank you.

Excuse me.

- I hope the little dog
recovered from its shock.

His near demise, you mean.

Don't worry.
He's very resilient.

- I guess I'm a bit early.
- I don't think so.

You see, Miss Brook,
my father's dollars

do not always have
the desired effect.

Usually, but not always.

- You don't seem to mind much.
- I don't.

These things
should happen naturally.

Unlike my dear mother,
I'm not a big believer

in forcing change.

- Then I suspect she and I
have more in common than we do.

- How are you enjoying
living with your aunts?

- They've taken me in,
so I should be grateful,

but we seem to disagree
on so many topics

that I'm sure we'll come
to blows in the end.

- Perhaps they'll educate you,
you'll educate them,

and you'll meet
somewhere in the middle.

- Hello, Miss Brook.
- Hello, Miss Russell.

Have you met?

- Yes, but you mustn't
tell my aunt.

Is Mr. Fane not with you?

He wanted to be very much,

but business has tied him
to his desk.

- And Mrs. Morris, she was
so curious about the house.

How she longed to come.

- But she couldn't
get away either?

Isn't it a shame?

A real shame when you think

of the check
you both want from me.

- I know, but I thought
if I came alone

and just stayed a few minutes,
then that might...

I mean--

- I know what you mean,
Mrs. Fane.

And please don't feel
you have to linger.

It's really not necessary.

Just go, Mrs. Fane.

Please go.

- I wonder if I might ask you
for a carriage across town.

- Yes, of course, madam.
Right away.

She wasn't here long.

I suppose Mother's made
another quarrel.

- I'm afraid
I can't stay either.

I just wanted to look in to pay
my respects to your parents.

- I hope we can meet again.
- I'm sure we will.

- Let the three of us
be friends

in spite of everything.

Contra mundum.

Leaving already, Miss Brook?

- I'm afraid I must get back,
but thank you for including me.

For including you in what?

- Thank you for coming,
Miss Brook.

Who was that?

- Our neighbor,
Miss Marian Brook.

And there's no need
to be angry with her, my dear.

The aunts will have
forbidden her to come,

and she has chosen
to defy them.

- But why must I be the enemy?
- Well, that's easy.

They have been in charge
since the "Mayflower" landed,

and now it's your turn,
because you are the future,

and if you are the future,
then they must be the past.

That's what frightens them.

- Miss Brook?
What are you doing here?

- Does Aunt Agnes know?
- No.

- And please don't give me away.
- I won't tell if you don't.

Good night.

I hope we meet again soon
in less foreign climes.

Oh.

I was just going up
to check on you.

- How is the headache?
- Much better.

- Quite gone, in fact.
- I'm glad.

We should go up.

Come along, Ada.

It's long past your bedtime.

By the way, we have decided
to make you a modest allowance.

It won't be much, but you'll
have a little independence.

- But you've already given me
so many clothes.

- Fiddle-faddle.
No nonsense, please.

I don't deserve it, truly,

as I cannot promise to live
within Aunt Agnes' confines.

I understand.

I only ask

that you never break
your own moral code,

for that is the soundest guide
any of us can have.

How wise, Aunt Ada.

- Please don't sound
quite so surprised.

What will you do with it all?

- Church, get the kitchen staff
to box it up

and send a message
in the morning

to the Charity
Organization Society.

Ask them to collect it.

- I don't know
what the poor of New York

will make of lobster salad.

Thank you, Church.

Well, then, take it away.

- Cooking for paupers,
that's not what I'm used to.

- I dare say you're not used
to making supper

for guests who never turn up.

- The evening was a folly.
This house is a folly.

She's built a palace
to entertain the sort of people

who will never come here.

- Don't count her out
so quickly.

- I agree.
She knows what she wants.

Why shouldn't she try
to get it?

- It's nothing to me
if she fails or succeeds.

- Isn't it, Miss Turner?
You seem to take it personally.

- Failure's catchable,
Mr. Church.

It rubs off
if you're not careful.

And what about Mr. Russell?

Is he a failure too?

I'll accept her payment,

and I'll stay for as long
as she wants me to.

I need the work,

and besides,
it will leave me time to write.

Write what?

Short stories, articles,

and I hope one day
to write a novel.

How ambitious.

- Some may
think it far-fetched.

My father does.

- But women have been
successful writers for years.

- White women,
but I have a few precedents.

- Then why shouldn't you?
I envy you.

I'd like to work too, properly.

What at?

I'm not like you.

I don't have any burning talent
yearning to be free.

I just want to be busy,
to be needed,

to be in a hurry.

- You know
they'd never allow it,

except for charity.

- Then I'll work
at my charities

and wait to see what comes.

After all, we've made it
to this city.

- That's right.
You're a New Yorker now.

We both are,

and for a New Yorker,
anything is possible.

So good luck to both of us,
and good night.

Good night, Peggy.

How was your evening?

Wasted.

I wanted to go to a party.

- Any party?
- No, the Russells' party.

- I wasn't invited.
- You will be next time.

What was the attraction?

Never mind about that now.

- Good evening,
Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt.

Good evening, Hefty.

- Good evening, Miss Caroline.
- Good evening, Hefty.

Is Mrs. Astor
still awake, Hefty?

She's in the drawing room.

- Say good night to Mama
for me.

I'm nearly dead,
and Rosy has to be up at dawn.

I will.

- Good night.
- Good night, Carrie.

- Hello, Mother.
- Carrie, dear.

- How was it?
- All right.

Mr. Dvorák played
until I thought

his fingers would fall off,

and then he spoke
about composing,

and we couldn't
understand a word.

- Where's Helen?
- She's gone to bed.

Rosy has to get up early
for some diplomatic thing.

- I wish you wouldn't
call him that.

- I can't call him
Mr. Roosevelt.

- Call him James.
- Nobody calls him James.

- What are these?
- Old invitations.

I was looking through them

to see if I needed to keep
any of the addresses.

This one was for tonight.

Mrs. George Russell
at 1801 Fifth Avenue.

Are you awake?

Would you like me
to come in with you?

This is harder
than you thought it would be.

I know that.

But I hope you won't give up.

Good night.

- I met their son in Newport
with Mamie Fish.

- Did you go?
- Don't be ridiculous.

I'll never give up!

And I promise you this.
I'll make them sorry one day.

I'm glad to hear it, my dear.

Defeat is not your color.