All language subtitles for Howards.End.S01E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10-English

I have always thought that the
care of your sister and brother

too great a burden to place
upon a young woman of your
tender years.

Oh, I'm not saying you've done
badly by Helen and Tibby, dear.

- Just for yourself.
- Aunt Juley!

[ AUNT JULEY ]
What sort of people
are these Wilcoxes, Margaret?

I don't understand.

[ MEG ] I don't know any more
than you do. We met them
in Germany.

Then they invited us to visit
them when we came home.

Then Tibby got hay fever
and Helen went on alone.

[ HELEN ]
Paul and I are in love.

Mother, are you aware that
Paul has been playing the
fool with that girl?

They do not love any longer.

Do you think personal
relations lead to
sloppiness in the end?

It's been a disgusting
business.

- Did you hear the concert?
- I did, yes.

That lady has quite
inadvertently taken my umbrella.

Oh, goodness gracious me.
I'm so sorry.

That is where we live.

- Miss Schlegel!
- [ MEG ] It's the Wilcoxes
again.

They've taken a flat
across the street.

I should like to
give you something worth
your acquaintance.

But I don't want a Yuletide
gift, Mrs. Wilcox.

I suppose Mr. Wilcox
is quite independent himself.

He has such a strong character,
a very fine nature,

- really.
- Come down with me now
to Howards End.

- I want you to see it.
- Some other day?

Forgive me, I, I came.
I'm... I am so sorry.

- Why, Ruth!
- It is a lovely surprise.

Miss Schlegel, our little
outing must be another day.

[ Theme music ]

[ Cawing ]

[ Reverend conducts
burial ceremony ]

Forasmuch as it
hath pleased Almighty God

of his great mercy
to take unto himself

the soul of our dear sister
here departed,

we therefore commit
her body to the ground.

Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes

and dust to dust...

..in sure and certain hope
of resurrection to eternal
life,

through our Lord
Jesus Christ,

who shall change the body
of our low estate...

that it will be like
unto his glorious body,

according to
the mighty working,

whereby he is able to subdue
all things unto himself.

Mr. Wilcox,
I'm so dreadfully sorry.

Miss Schlegel, you are
very good to come.

Very good.

[ Music plays ]

[ Train rumbling ]

[ Rattle of crockery ]

[ Knock at door ]

- The post has come, Father.
- Thanks. Put it down.

- Was breakfast alright?
- Yes, thanks.

Charles says,
do you want The Times?

No, I'll read it later.

Ring if you want anything,
Father, will you?

I've all I want.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Father's eaten nothing.

I don't understand.

That is only a covering
letter from the matron
of the nursing home.

- Yes, I see that.
- The other is
from your mother.

- Yes, yes.
- Sealed inside.

- I'm sorry, Father.
- I don't understand.
Who is Miss Schlegel?

Miss Schlegel?

Yes. She, er, came down
to the funeral service.

She visited your mother
at the nursing home.

- I know who she is.
- She was a sort of friend
of Mother's.

- Yes.
- Oh. And what does it say?

"To my dear husband,
I should like Miss Margaret
Schlegel

to have Howards End."

What?

[ Clears throat ]
No date. No signature.

It's been forwarded from
the matron of the nursing home.

- Now, the question is...
- It can't be legal!

Houses ought to be done
by lawyers, Charles. Surely.

Give it her, Charles.

Why, it's only in pencil.
I said so.

- Pencil never counts.
- We know it is not
legally binding, Dolly.

- Please. Don't interfere.
- But she can't have meant
to give Howards End

- to Miss Schlegel.
- I agree. It's very unlike her.

You don't think
Miss Schlegel...

- ..whether she unduly...
- No. No, I don't think that.

- Don't think what, Father?
- That she would...

that it's a case of undue
influence. No. No.

To my mind,
the, uh, question is...

[ Sighs ]

It's your mother's condition
at the time that she wrote.

The house meant
so much to her.

It isn't like her
to leave it to an outsider

- who'd never appreciate...
- The whole thing is very
unlike her.

But what about Miss Schlegel?
Presumably she knows.

Mother would've told her.
She got twice or three times
into the nursing home.

Presumably, she's
expecting developments.

What a horrid woman.
Why, she could be coming
down to turn us out now.

- I wish she would.
I could then deal with her.
- So could I.

But she won't come.

You're all a bit hard
on Miss Schlegel.

Your mother admired her.
Miss Schlegel was
very kind to her.

She was kind to visit your
mother when she was ill.

That Paul business
was pretty scandalous.

I want no more of
the Paul business, Charles.

Upon my soul, she is honest.

- But those chrysanthemums.
- Oh, coming down
to the funeral at all.

Why should she not come down?
Certainly, she should not
have sent such flowers,

but they may have seemed
the right thing to her,

and for all you know, it may
be the custom in Germany.

Oh, I forget she's a German.
That would explain a lot.

But she isn't a German.
She's only half-German.

But what about this letter?

Surely she had no claim
on Howards End.
Even if Mother...

The letter is in pencil and
your mother cannot have been
herself when it was written.

There we are.

Charles, I'll take the
newspaper now, please, if
you've finished reading it.

I jolly well wish
she would come down here.

Charles, will you give me
that newspaper?

- Here, Father.
- Thank you, Evie.

[ Crackling ]

[ Pattering of rain ]

Oh, you're back!
You're back!

Tibby!

[ Rain drowns out speech ]

I can't tell you
how amazing it's been.

Put it on that table there.

Nancy...

We were standing the whole
time on the train.

It was absolutely heaving.

Anyway,
Frieda took me there.

And then after that
we went to...

[ Helen continues
indistinctly ]

Helen.

I told you about poor Mrs.
Wilcox, that sad business?

Yes. I was sorry to hear it.

I had a correspondence
from her son, Charles.

He was winding up the estate
and he wrote to ask

whether his mother had
wanted me to have anything.

- Did he?
- I thought it was
very good of him,

considering I knew her
for so little.

I said that she once spoke
of giving me a Christmas
present,

but we forgot about it
afterwards.

- I hope Charles
took the hint.
- Yes.

Well, that is to say her
husband wrote on,

he thanked me for being
a little kind to her.

He hopes that this wasn't
the end of our acquaintance,

but that you and I will go
and stop with Evie
some time in the future.

I like Mr. Wilcox.

He's taking up his work -
rubber.

- It's a big business.
I think it...
- Yes. It is the business of

killing black Africans in the
Congo.

- Oh, Tibby!
- Shut up, Tibby!

Ask your pious lecturing
friends if it isn't.

Women don't understand
economics.

I am sure Mr. Wilcox
is not a murderer.

How do you think they get
the rubber out of the trees,
hm?

They get great gangs of
natives out of the villages,

and put them into camps and
set them about pulling
the rubber out of the trees,

boiling it in great vats
and then they shoot them
if they try to run away.

Didn't you tell me he runs
the Imperial Rubber Company
of West Africa

or some such company, Helen?
That's not in the Congo.

I really don't remember.
Certainly he's murdering
someone.

It is not funny, you know.

What I wanted to tell you,
Helen,

is that Mr. Wilcox actually
gave me his wife's
silver vinaigrette.

Don't you think that's
extraordinarily generous?

- It makes me like him
very much.
- It's lovely.

I suppose the silver
doesn't come from
an African silver mine.

HELEN: I'm sure somebody
died mining it.

[ Horse and carriage
passes by outside ]

[ Speech drowned out
by motor cars ]

[ Piano starts up ]

Helen, I was just across the
street and I saw Charles Wilcox.

You'll never guess what.

They're moving out.

What do you
think about that?

- [ Flourish ]
- [ Continues playing ]

- [ Piano fades ]
- [ Footsteps ]

[ Bell rings ]

[ Strikes a match ]

[ Whoosh of flame ]

What's the matter, Len?

You've not been yourself
lately.

- You do love me, don't you?
- Jacky, you know I do.

But...

Well, what is it?

Well, just...

You will make it alright,
won't you, Len?

- Between us, I mean.
- I've said so, haven't I?

- Don't be angry.
- Haven't I said so
a dozen times?

Yes, you have, Len. It's
just Cecile told the most
dreadful story today

- about a girl she knows...
- What's that got to do
with me?

Nothing, darling.
Don't be angry.

Only...

Only it's not right
we keep pretending.

You will make it alright,
won't you, Len?

I can't have you ask me
that again.

- I'm sorry.
- My word is my word.

I will marry you
as soon as ever I'm 21.

- It, it's not long now.
- I know, darling.

But I can't keep on
being worried.

When a man gives his word...

- If my brother
knew about us...
- I know, I'm sorry.

- Haven't I worries enough?
- I'm sorry.
- Look at that.

- That's another cuff gone.
- I'll mend it for you.

That's six miles walking
all this week to pay
for a new pair.

- I shall be for it
if anyone notices.
- I'm sorry.

- I am...
- I can't breathe in here.

It's too closed up.

[ Door slams ]

[ Music playing ]

[ Piano playing ]

- What the devil
are you playing?
- Isn't it lovely?

No, it's not.
You're giving me a headache.

Both of you are giving me
a headache. Do stop
quarrelling.

I've another one here called
Who Threw The Overalls
In Mrs. Murphy's Chowder?

- Meg!
- Oh, please,
do stop quarrelling.

- Sorry.
- [ Helen stops playing ]

What's in that letter, Meg?
Bad news?

Oh, it's only a letter
reminding us the lease has
expired

- and we have until May
to clear out.
- [ Doorbell rings ]

I know it doesn't rate as
one of life's great tragedies.
We knew it was coming,

but it's still
a bit of a shock.

Good God.
Where will we move?

I expect we'll find
someplace, Meg. Don't be
too downhearted.

Yes. Luckily, we have
some money, too.

- What is it, Annie?
- This lady, ma'am. She...

Good afternoon.
Have I the honor of speaking
to Miss Margaret Schlegel?

No, I'm Helen.

- What is it about?
- I don't know why
I should be so upset.

It's been such a happy house.
Why does it have to be
swept away?

- [ Tibby begins
to play the piano ]
[ HELEN ] Meg!

Helen, whatever is the matter?
It's alright, Annie.

How do you do?
I'm Miss Schlegel.

Good afternoon, Miss Schlegel.
If I have the honor of
addressing Miss Schlegel...

- Yes, I'm Margaret Schlegel.
- I've come in search
of my husband, Mr. Bast.

Who I have some reason
to believe may be
visiting the premises.

- If, if I may be so bold.
- It's alright, Annie.
Thank you.

Yes, Miss.
I'm terribly sorry, Miss.

- Now, Mrs... I'm so sorry...
- Bast, Miss.

Mrs. Leonard Bast,
as I think Miss Schlegel
has good reason

to understand, without
her being told twice by me.

I'm afraid I don't quite.

I say, what is all
the hullabaloo?

Can't a chap play the piano
in peace and quiet?

- Go away, Tibby.
- Why don't you tell us what
this is about, Mrs. Bast?

I think perhaps, Miss Schlegel,
that the explanation

rests on the other side,
if you please.

But I don't understand.

- That is your card, is it not?
- Yes. An old one

- by the look of it.
- Then will you please
oblige me by explaining

how my husband came to have
it and where he might be
at this moment?

And if he is here
I should like a word with
him, if you don't mind.

Here? Your husband?

We don't know
who your husband is.

Well, truly, we don't...
we've never met a Mr. Bast.

[ TIBBY ] Yes, you have.

The chap with the umbrella
at the Prince Regent's Hall.

- What?
- Helen stole his brolly
and Meg brought him home.

Aunt Juley was
afraid he'd take the silver.

- Take the silver?
- Don't be an idiot.

- No.
- No.

- My Len take your silver?
- You must remember.

No one has taken anything
and no one is accused of
taking anything.

- This gentleman just said...
- Please, would you come in
for tea?

Our aunt was afraid
he'd take the silver.
We never thought so.

- I wasn't so jolly sure.
- My Len would never steal
so much as a lump of coal.

- He was only here 10 minutes.
- Tibby, be quiet.

- Won't you come in?
- No, no, thank you,
Miss Schlegel.

I want my Len and I can
see now I was wrong.

Oh, please,
what's become of him?

- Tibby, do go away at once.
- Tell us what it is
you want.

I just want my husband
and I thought
he might be here.

- Why would you imagine that?
- Because he'd got your card,
Meg.

But if he's missing, oughtn't
we to call the police?

No, no, thank you, Miss.
I'm so sorry.

- Please let me go.
- [ All talk at once ]

- May I have the card, please?
- Surely, but why?

Len'll be furious
if he knows I've come here.

Goodness.
He won't strike you?

My Len? Put his hands on me?

Oh, Miss, please.
I do so beg your pardon.

[ Sighs ]

- How extraordinary.
- Poor girl.

It's alright now, Annie.
No one was to blame.

Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.

Oh, Helen.

So often I feel we live
chattering away

at the edge of
a great abyss.

I don't want to close
my eyes to it or comfortably
pretend it isn't there.

But I don't want to
live in it.

Is that very wicked
and selfish of me?

It's better than your
friends, the Wilcoxes,

who batter their way
through the abyss pulling
heaps of money from it.

- Not the Wilcoxes.
- That's wrong and unfair.

At least they live
in the world and not
on it or, or above it.

- What?
- Don't make fun, Tibby.

Oh, I'm tired of the whole
subject.

I despise proofs
and I despise cant.

I loathe taking positions.
I can only react to feelings.

They're the only guide
that matters.

Yes. I think so, too.

The personal
is what's important.

Your precious Ws
don't think so.

Even the Ws will come
face to face with
the personal someday.

Dearest Meg,
there we differ.

I have seen, rather
up close, I'm afraid,

what they are like
in a crisis.

A rather small and tawdry
one, I grant you - mine.

But I'm afraid that for them,
the personal was a whirlwind

which they refused to see,
and which knocked them
about the room

while they tried to sort out
the best policy using
practical business methods,

which don't include
whirlwinds
in the balance sheet.

They were quite undone
because the main force
in the room

was invisible to them.

But you said the best thing
about them was how they
treated Mrs. Wilcox,

didn't you?

Yes.

That shows something
fine in them, doesn't it?

- Yes.
- This passage
is deuced difficult.

Can you imagine, really
imagine, writing it when he
was deaf?

- Let alone playing it.
- Tibby, when do you
go back to Oxford?

I've just come back.
Might not go back at all.

Oh, but you must go, Tibby.

You can't live on
your inheritance, you know?

Yours and Meg's supports
the two of you.
Why shouldn't mine?

Because you're a man, Tibby.
Yes, you are.

You must work.
It's a universal impulse.

I thought you were opposed
to cant and principles
and positions

and cared only for feelings
and personal relations?

Oh, I don't know what I think
anymore at this moment,

except I wish the two of you
would stop using the piano

as a form of self-expression.
It's very wearing.

- Oh, dear Meg.
- It's only Beethoven.

I'm sorry.

That woman upset me,
she really did.

And the letter.

Where shall we live?
I don't want to move.

I've lived here all my life
and now it's to be swept away

and turned into another
block of flats
like Wickham Mansions.

I don't see why they should
have the right to do that
to every family on the street

even if they do own
the freehold of Wickham.

It's not just.
I know we shall find
somewhere to live, but...

- That's how your Mr. W
would handle it.
- Leave Meg alone.

Oh, yes. Well, that's right.
When it's my chance to score
I'm told to be quiet.

Please,
don't make me quarrel.

I want to go to my room.
My head is bursting.
I'm sorry.

[ Tibby plays softly ]

[ Bell rings ]

- Is that Mr. Bast?
- It looks like him.

- Do you suppose it's he?
- Well, yes, it must be.

Annie, we'll be three for tea.

- Yes, Miss. Will you
have it in the drawing room?
- Yes. Thank you.

Now Helen, don't let's act
like fluttering idiots.

- Oh, yes, I agree.
- He's bound to be very
ashamed of himself.

And I want to
make him feel at home.

I think he'll be very
grateful to find we didn't
mind Mrs. Bast

and have nearly forgotten
the entire incident.

- Hellen, I'm being serious.
- So am I serious.

I won't have him treated
like a social experiment.

- Do open the door.
- Well, he hasn't
rung the bell.

If we open the door before
he rings he'll certainly feel
like a social experiment.

- Please be quiet.
- [ Knock at door ]

- Yes?
- Good afternoon.

Good afternoon.

No doubt you can remember
the last occasion
on which we met.

- Well, er, not exactly.
- We remember some of it.

My brother said that
we stole your umbrella
from the Prince Regent's.

Yes, they were playing
Beethoven's Fifth that day.

We always go to the Fifth
when they play it,

but I do remember
stealing your umbrella.

Oh, quite inadvertently.

I suppose
you can guess the reason
for my visit today.

- Has it gone missing again?
- Oh, Helen!

It hasn't. That's alright,
alright, Miss Schlegel.

I'm so sorry.
What an idiotic joke. Would
you like to come inside?

No, thank you. I should
like to explain.

We're just about to
sit down for some tea.
I do hope you'll join us.

I, I don't like to impose.

BOTH: Oh, please.

Thanks. I should be
very happy to.

- Won't you come this way.
- Thank you.

- After you.
- Thank you.

[ Door closes ]

I still don't understand.

I went walking.

That's all.

- I walked all night.
You see...
- Did you?

HELEN: Did you?

Yes.

While I was gone, however,
Mrs. Bast needed me on
important business

and thought I'd come here
owing to the card.

Why should she think that?

Well, a card belonging
to a lady whose name
she didn't know...

Why did you never tell her
about your adventure,

- the time
I took your umbrella?
- I didn't like to.

Why not?

I suppose it was a secret
I wanted to keep for myself.

I don't blame her, but she
should not have come here.

- If I'd imagined...
- It doesn't matter
about that.

And all this time
you were only walking?

Yes.

But how marvelous.

Was it?

Of course it was.

Where did you start from?
Tell us more.

I...

Well, I took the Underground
to Wimbledon

- and I had a bite to eat.
- But not good
country there, is it?

It was gas lamps for...

hours.

I did get into the woods
presently and...

being out was the great
thing.

- Were you walking alone,
may I ask?
- Yes.

I don't know where,
nor for how long.

It got too dark
to see my watch.

I rather fancy
it was those North Downs

and then I found a road
to a station and I, er,

got the first train I could
back to London.

- Was the dawn wonderful?
- No.

- [ Helen chuckles ]
- No, the dawn was only grey.

- Nothing to mention.
- Yes. Just a grey evening
turned upside down.

- I know.
- Yes. Yes, and, er...

I was too tired to lift
my head to look at it.

Looking back, it...

it wasn't what
you'd call enjoyment.

It, it was more a case
of sticking to it.

Hang it, what's the good
in living in a room forever?

There one goes,
one day after day.

Same old game,
same up and down to town

until you forget there is
any other game.

Like, you ought to see
once in a way
what's going on outside.

- I should just
think you would.
- Yes.

Have you ever read
Richard Jefferies?

Yes.

Or George Borrow's
Stonehenge?

Well, yes, of course
we have, but, er...

Well...

I'm afraid I've imposed too
far on your kindness.

Thank you for the tea.
Um...

I must be going.

Well, why must you go?

You'll come another time,
I hope?

[ Music plays ]

[ Motor car outside ]

[ Hooves and footsteps ]

[ Seagulls cry,
ship's horn blows ]

- I say, Helen...
- Well?

Do you think we'll really
follow up Mr. Bast?

I don't know.

Do you think we might try to?

How do you do?

I thought I recognized
your voices. What are you
both doing here?

What an age it's been since
I last saw you, Mr. Wilcox.

We're just admiring the
sunlight on the water.

[ Ship's horn blows ]

Now, tell me all your news.

Oh, we've had a splendid
afternoon.

We belong to a club
that reads papers.

There's a discussion after.
Today was on

how one ought to leave one's
money, whether to a friend

or to the poor,
and if so, how?
Most interesting.

Sounds the most original
entertainment.

I wish my Evie would go in
for that sort of thing.

She's taken to breeding
Aberdeen terriers.

We pretend we're improving
ourselves, you see.

Doubtless,
you find it wasteful.

Not at all, no.
Nothing like a debate
to teach you to be quick.

It doesn't matter much
on what subject.

- Does it not?
- Oh, no, we won't argue.

I'll just put our special
case to Mr. Wilcox.

He knows about the poor and
what's to be done with them.

Oh, I don't know about that.

-Helen only means that...
-We've just come across
a young fellow

who's evidently very poor
indeed, although he aspires
to higher things,

however awkwardly, and he
got mixed up in our debate.

- Yes? What's his profession?
- Clerk.
- Clerk.

- What in?
- What in?
- Oh, do you remember, Helen?

The Porphyrion
Fire Insurance Company.

- Porphyrion?
- That's it.
- Oh, well, in that case...

How should such a man be
helped? Should he be given
£300 a year direct?

Which was Margaret's plan.
Should he and those like him
be given free libraries?

My suggestion was that he be
given something every year
towards a summer holiday.

- But then there's his wife.
- My dear Miss Schlegel,

I, I will
not rush in where your sex
has been unable to tread...

- Oh, why ever not?
- Helen, Mr. Wilcox
will think you rude.

- Will he? I'm sorry.
- Not at all.
However, I'm afraid

that my only contribution will
be to let your young friend

clear out of the Porphyrion
Fire Insurance Company
with all possible speed.

Why?

I oughtn't to have spoken
but I, uh, happen to know,

being more or less
behind the scenes,

that it'll be
in the receiver's hands
before Easter.

Porphyrion is
a bad, bad concern.

Don't say I said so.
It's outside the Tariff Ring.

- Certainly, we won't say.
- We don't know what it
means.

The Tariff Ring
is an association
of insurance companies.

I thought an insurance
company never smashed.

Don't the others always
run in and save them?

You're thinking of
re-insurance.

- It's exactly there that
Porphyrion is weak, I'm afraid.
- We must warn Mr. Bast.

Oh, yes. Thank you ever so
much, Mr. Wilcox.

Oh, no, no.

- Are you still
at Wickham Place?
- No. Well, yes.

- We've got to move out
by May.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

We've just taken a place
in Ducie Street,

very near to Sloane Street.
And a, and a place
down in Shropshire.

- Oniton Grange. Have you
heard of Oniton?
- No.

Oh, do come and visit us.
Right away from everywhere,
up towards Wales.

Oh. We shall.

- And Howards End?
- Oh. It's let.

Oh, what change. I can't
imagine Howards End or Hilton

existing without you.

I should have
kept such a remarkable
place in the family.

Oh, it is. It is. I haven't
sold it. I don't mean to.

No, but none of you are
there.

And we have a splendid tenant
now, a Mr. Bryce. An invalid.

Charles and his wife live
very near the old place.

I forget whether you've been
up there.

- At the house, never.
- Oh.

Well...

Well, do remind Evie
to come and see us.

2 Wickham Place. We shan't
be there much longer, either.

Everyone moving.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

[ Music plays ]

[ HELEN ]
Dear Mr. Bast, would you do
us the kindness of stopping

at Wickham Place tomorrow
at tea-time?

We should be
so glad to see you.

Your friend, Helen Schlegel.

How do you like your work?

My work?

- Yes.
- Oh, well enough.

Your company is the
Porphyrion, isn't it?

Yes, that's so.

We were told
the Porphyrion's no go.

We, we wanted to tell you.
That's why we wrote.

I see.

A friend of ours did say
he thinks it's insufficiently
re-insured.

And he advised us to tell you
to clear out by Easter.

He did not advise us.
He said it was bound to
smash by Easter.

He did not advise us
to say so.

You can tell your friend
he's quite wrong.

Oh, good. Our friend,
who is also a businessman,
was so positive.

And he advised you
to clear out of it.

He's made quite a lot of
money.

I'm not one of those
who mind their affairs
being spoken of by others.

- Oh, I am glad.
- Men are so tactful.
Women have no tact.

Our friend's quite rich
and seems to have a hand
in all manners of concerns.

- Quite so.
- But I don't see
why he should know

- better than you do.
- One can but see. As Ibsen
says, "Things happen."

Mr. Wilcox and Miss Wilcox.

- Hello.
- [ Yapping ]

Hello!

- [ Chuckles ]
- Hello.

We brought
the little fellows round.

I bred them myself. This is
Ahab and that's Jezebel.

Oh, really? Mr. Bast, come
play with the puppies.

- Mr. Wilcox. Mr. Bast.
- I must be going now.

- Must you really?
- Come again.

- [ Puppies squeak ]
- No. No, I shan't.

- But...
- I call that
a very rude remark.

Are we intruding,
Miss Schlegel,
or can we be of any use?

- It's alright, Mr. Wilcox.
- I...

Good day.

Helen, go after him.

Ought she to?

Can I help you now?

No, it's alright. Thank
you. I'm very sorry.

He's a nice creature, really.
I can't think what set him
off.

Oh! [ Chuckles ]

Oh!

[ Mr. Wilcox chuckles ]

Where are you going?

What do you want to turn
on me like that for?

- You ask me why
I turned on you?
- Yes.

- What do you want to have me
in there for?
- To help you, you silly boy.

- And don't shout.
- Why should you help me?
Why should I not help you?

- Because... well...
- I don't want your
patronage.

I don't want your tea.
I was quite happy.

- What do you want
to unsettle me for?
- Well, why should you say so?

- What are you looking for?
- My hat.

Annie. Will you please bring
Mr. Bast his hat?

Yes, Miss.

When you asked me to tea,
I...

Yes.

Of course, if there's been
a misunderstanding...

We did not have you here
out of charity,

but because we hoped there'd
be a connection between last
Sunday and other days.

- We thought...
- It's no good.
You don't want to discuss

books with me
or music or any of
the things that I like.

- Mr. Bast...
- I can't discuss them...

in your easy way.

I don't know how,
but I suppose they mean
ever as much to me

as they do to you.

- We don't discuss them
in an easy way.
- You do.

You think I'm a...
comic character.

- I do not.
- Here you are, sir.

That's not mine.

Annie, you have brought the
gentleman Mr. Wilcox's hat.

I'm sorry, Miss.
I won't be a moment.

We don't think
you're a comic character.

You do. You think
I'm superficial

if I want to talk about
books, if I tell you about
Carlyle

or... or, erm...

- Ruskin.
- Ruskin. Yes. Or Dostoevsky.

- Yes.
- You don't care for
Dostoevsky.

- Well, I don't, no...
- Dostoevsky.

Does anybody like him?
All that eternal...

- Tibby, please.
- ..fainting and screaming.

You can't cut a page
without someone
collapsing on the floor.

- Tibby, go away.
- Might I have my hat,
do you suppose?

Yes, yes. I can't think
where she's got to.

Would you be so good as to
introduce me to this
gentleman, Helen?

Look, I will not.
Go away, Tibby.

- We have met before.
- Have we?

I can't remember.

You're one of Meg and Helen's
social experiments.

- Tibby!
- I'm sure I don't know.

I say, are you
that poor devil of a clerk
they have debates over

- at the Chelsea Women's
Political Club?
- He is not.

I'm sure I couldn't say.

I'm sure I should be honored
if I were.

That's alright, then.
Where do you chaps stand

on the suffrage question?
We don't get much
of the working man's view.

- Nancy!
- I have no fixed opinion.

- No fixed opinion?
- Can you find Annie,
please?

- She has disappeared
with the gentleman's hat.
- Yes, Miss.

If you were here,
you'd have a fixed opinion.
Make no mistake.

Lot of footle, if you ask me.
I say the world's
gone off its onion.

- Tibby, if you don't go
this instant, I shall scream.
- Alright, then.

- Mr. Bast, I...
- Thank you for your advice
about the Porphyrion.

I'm not a businessman
like your friend.

- He's not our friend.
- I am only a clerk.

But even a clerk...

No, it's useless.

- But we're not... We only...
- Here you are. Your hat, sir.

Oh, Annie, whatever has
been keeping you?

[ Tearful ] I'm sorry, Miss.
I got muddled and...

Oh, it's alright.

Miss Schlegel,

all I can do is go.

Thank you for trying
to help me.

Goodbye.

[ Front door opens and closes ]

But who was he?

He was the young man we were
to warn against the
Porphyrion.

We warn him and look.

- Miss Schlegel, may I speak
to you as a friend?
- Yes, of course.

In that case, well, oughtn't
you to be more careful?

- Careful?
- You're too kind.

- Yes, indeed.
- You behave much too well
to people

and then they impose on you.

When I came in
and saw that young man,

I could tell straight away
that you weren't treating him
properly.

I know the type. You have
to keep them at a distance

or they take advantage.
Sad but true.

Let me explain why we like
this young man and why we
want to see him again.

- Oh, you shall never make me
believe you really like him.
- We do. We do.

I'm afraid that you
and your sister...

We want to show him how he
may get upsides with life,

something to relieve
life's daily grey.

Ah. Well, that...that is where
you make your mistake,
Miss Schlegel,

- and it is a great mistake.
- Yes, indeed.

- Evie.
- Where? I mean, why?

This young man
has his own life.

What right have you
to conclude it is an
unsuccessful one

or, as you call it, grey?

- Because... Well...
- One minute.

One minute. You know nothing
of him. He probably has his
own joys and interests.

A wife, children,
snug little home.

I look at the, the faces of
the clerks in my own office.

I don't know what's going on
beneath, I don't presume to.

- So, by the way,
with London.
- Yes?

What do you know about
London?

Yesterday, you were pleased
to admire the sunlight
on the Thames at high tide.

Well, the tide is higher
and the sunlight more pleasant

because my fellow capitalists
and I have shares
in the lock at Teddington.

Now we've shortened the tidal
trough under London Bridge.

Result - higher tides
for shipping.

More sunlight on the water.

Yes, I see.

You do have a nice way
of taking the poetry
out of everything, Mr. Wilcox.

Why should you say so?
If your poetry means
what you say it does,

why should it not be proof
against a piece of civil
engineering

which means millions of
pounds a year in reduced
shipping costs

for every sort of business
under the sun?

Your mistake, Miss Schlegel,
is only to see civilization
from the outside.

All I can say is that
we like this young man

and we see something fine
in him.

Miss Schlegel, you're a pair
of charitable creatures,

but you really ought to be
more careful in this, uh,
uncharitable world.

What about your brother?
What does he say?

As the man of the house,
oughtn't he to take an
interest?

Excuse me, I must see
what Helen's doing.

Well... [ Speaks quietly ]

- [ Footsteps approach ]
- Helen?

Why are you all alone?

Yes. He's been
gone some time.

But what happened?

It's alright.
Such a muddle of a man.

I like him so much.

Well, come back to the
Wilcoxes and tell me later.

Mr. W's much concerned
and slightly titillated.

Oh, I have no patience
with him. I hate him.

You hate him?

I thought him rather
splendid.

Only because you dissect him.

- And why should you say so?
Don't you dissect Mr. Bast?
- I don't.

You do. We both do. We're
always dissecting people.

It does sound rather
disgusting when you say it like
that.

Come play with puppies.

And don't discuss Mr. Bast
with the Wilcoxes.

They don't understand him.

[ Music plays ]

[ Music drowns out speech ]

[ Front door shuts ]

[ Footsteps approach ]

- [ Sighs ]
- Hello.

Where have you been?

BOTH: Looking at houses.

I do wish you'd find
something.

I can't bear to look
at any more.

I don't know
what I'm looking for.

What are we going to do
with all this furniture?

And father's books? We're
simply running out of time.

We are to go nowhere and
to be at home for no one
until we've found a house.

[ Doorbell rings ]

It's from Evie Wilcox,
inviting me to lunch at
Simpson's tomorrow

with her fiance Mr. Cahill.

"The three of us can have
a jolly chat."

- Egads.
- It is kind of her to
remember.

Perhaps I misjudged her.

She's so excessively
athletic.

Perhaps it blocks out
her other good qualities.

I don't see why
she invites me and not you.
I thought she disliked me.

Perhaps it is a ploy
to drive you into the arms
of her father.

Do you think so?

It would save us the trouble
of finding a house.

Yes, that's true.

Will you go?

- Oh, I must.
- [ Chuckles ] Stalwart Meg.

Did I tell you Father
might be at the party?

Yes. There he is.

I thought I'd get round
if I could.

When I heard about Evie's
little plan I slipped in
to secure a table.

Always secure a table first.

And tip the carver.
That's the golden rule.
Tip everywhere is my motto.

Now, Evie, don't pretend you
want to sit by your old father
because I know you don't.

Miss Schlegel,
come round my side.

[ Conversation
is drowned out by music ]

How is your discussion
society getting on?

- Any new utopias?
- No.

My goodness, you look tired.
Have you been worrying
after your young clerks?

- No, houses.
- Ah.
- Do you know of any?

- No, I'm afraid I don't.
- What's that, Father?

We must find a new home
in May.

Someone has to find it.
I can't.

Percy, do you know of
anything?

- Can't say I do.
- Oh. How like you.
You're never any good.

Never any good? Just listen
to her. Never any good!

- Oh, come.
- Well, you aren't.

- Miss Schlegel, is he?
- Miss Schlegel,
Gruyere or Stilton?

- Gruyere, please.
- Better have Stilton.

- Evie?
- Stilton, please.

Mr. Cahill?

- Any Gouda?
- Of course they haven't
any Gouda at Simpson's.

- He'll have the Stilton.
- I don't want Stilton.

You should have
whatever you like, Mr. Cahill.
Don't let Evie bully you.

How about a nice bit of
Altenburger Ziegenkase?

- I beg your pardon?
- Altenburger Ziegenkase.

Saxon, or Thuringian,
depending on one's loyalties.

It gets a bit gooey
in the warm weather,
but otherwise it's excellent.

- I suppose you've run out.
- I'm afraid...

Well done, Miss Schlegel!
Very well done! [ Chuckles ]

I'll have the Gruyere.

Thank you, sir.

Are you coming with us to the
Hippodrome, Miss Schlegel?

No, thank you. I must go back
to my house hunting.

Oh, but you must.
It's meant to be marvelous.

They release 300,000
gallons of water on a village
wedding

and sweep away the huntsmen
and all show folk

and the entire
wedding party into oblivion.

I should be sorry to miss
that.

They say it's very realistic.

Yes, but why put Aimee Roberts
on stage only to sweep her off
again

along with 300,000 gallons
of water and a lot of
huntsmen?

Why come to Simpson's
to get a French cheese?

You see?
See how she chafes me?

How's your house?

Ducie Street? Uh, much the
same. Comfortable enough.

I don't mean Ducie Street.
I meant Howards End, of course.

Why "Of course"?

Can't you turn out your
tenants and let it to us
instead?

- We're nearly demented.
- We couldn't do that.

It's let for three years.

Can't you help us,
Mr. Wilcox?

We're merely looking for a
small house with large
rooms, and plenty of them.

I wish I could.
A, a piece of advice -

fix your district and your
price, and then don't budge.

That's how I got both Ducie
Street and the house in Oniton.

I thought to myself,
"I mean to be exactly here."
And I was.

Thank you ever so much,
Mr. Wilcox.

Next time you shall come
to lunch with me
at Mr. Eustace Miles.

- Pleasure.
- No, you'll hate it.

It's all proteins and
body-buildings and people
coming up to you,

"Begging your pardon,
but you have
a beautiful aura."

- What?
- [ Chuckles ]

Do you know, I suspect
Mr. Wilcox of planning
the whole entertainment.

Not really? I meant that
as a joke.

Yes, but if you reflect.
I was very fond of his wife.

She really was
an extraordinary person.

- You still think so,
don't you?
- Oh, yes.

He's always preferred me to
you, which most men don't.

Well, that's something
in his favor, anyhow.

Chaperone you and Mr. Wilcox
at lunch at Eustace Miles?

- Are you mad?
- Yes.

I want to ask him. He
promised to go. He promised to
eat proteins and body builders.

But you don't really need
a chaperone at your age.

It may surprise you, Tibby,
to learn that I'm only 28.

It does, rather.

I dare say you think of me
as an old maid,

but I can't go to lunch with a
single gentleman unchaperoned.

That's flat. If you don't
go, I can't invite him.

Alright, then.

[ General chatter ]

[ WOMAN ]
How lovely to meet you.

This is ghastly.

What do you think of it,
Mr. Wilcox?

- I told you
that you would hate it.
- Not at all. Not at all.

It may not suit every taste,
but it...

it's widely known to be
the healthiest kind of food.

Tell me, though, Miss Schlegel,
do you, uh... Do you really
believe in the supernatural?

Auras and astral planes?

That's too big a question.

No, it isn't.

Why's that?

Because although I don't
believe in auras

and think theosophy may only
be a halfway house...

- There may be
something there after all?
- Not even that.

Maybe halfway
in the wrong direction.
I can't explain.

I don't believe in all these
fads but I don't like to say
I don't believe in them.

I'm a little out of my depth.

Do you talk rather like this
to your office boy?

I talk the same to everyone,
or try to.

I don't believe in suiting my
conversations to my company.

We can doubtless hit upon
some medium of exchange

that seems to do well enough
but there's no nourishment
in it.

You pass it down
to the lower classes,
they pass it back up to you,

and you call this a "mutual
endeavor" when it's mutual
priggishness if it's anything.

Our friends at Chelsea
don't see this.

They say one ought to be
at all costs intelligible
and sacrifice...

You do admit that there are rich
and poor. That's something.

- But of course I do.
- And you do admit

that if wealth
were divided equally,

in a few years there would be
rich and poor again?

- Well, everyone admits that.
- Your socialists don't.

My socialists do.
Yours mayn't.

I don't care. You just made two
damaging admissions and
I'm heartily with you in both.

Did you know
that this wretched hash
is called reform food?

Have you ever heard
such a monstrous
combination of words?

I think you're too severe,
Mr. Schlegel.

I mean, one should try
new things occasionally.

- Yes, but not this.
- I find it quite good.

Yes, it's quite good.

[ Piano music ]

Dear Miss Schlegel...

Perhaps we ought to give up
for a while and go down
to the seaside for a month.

Oh, Margaret, do come.
London is so unhealthy

- at this time of year.
- It's from Mr. Wilcox.

He's announced an important
change in his plans.

- Who?
BOTH: Mr. Wilcox.

He says owing to Evie's
marriage, he's decided to
give up the house.

- Not your Wilcoxes,
surely, Helen?
- They're Meg's.

They are not.

..owing to Evie's marriage,
I have decided to give up
the house in Ducie Street.

"And to let it out
on a yearly tenancy."

- Where?
- Ducie Street,
where Mr. Wilcox lives.

He writes, "If you and
your family approve the rent,"

please notify him at once...
That's underlined twice.

Then I can go over the house
with him.

- He's in love with you.
- Oh, really! It's a very
business-like letter.

- Why should he be
in love with me?
- Why should he not be?

You're not going to marry
that old man from
the protein restaurant?

Marry? Margaret
is engaged to marry?

Why shouldn't I, if he asks?

Oh, Meg, you wouldn't.
I'm only joking.

Oh, well, I think someone
might have told me.

There's nothing to tell,
Aunt Juley.

- I know he's been
quite attentive.
- The idea's appalling.

- He's a beast. He has
no human feelings.
- He's not a beast.

You should've seen him humbly
eating his protein builder
at Eustace Miles.

No one could have been
kinder. I was proud of him.

- Of Tibby, well, naturally.
- Of Mr. Wilcox!

I'm sorry.

But what have I said?

Oh, honestly, Aunt Juley,
nothing.

I'm only so anxious about
finding a place to live.

- How do I prevent you?
- Oh, dear.

You don't.

Now, children,
what's it to be?

You all know Ducie Street.
Shall I say yes or shall I say
no?

Tibby, which?

Especially want
to pin you both.

- Say no.
- Say yes.

That's decided, then.

♪