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Do you like it?

- Magnificent.

Without our Sundays,

I'd go potty, I think.

Thank you, Jack.

You're still not

relaxed, Beatrice.

Look at that frown.

- I'm sorry.

I can't stop

scrutinizing things,

just to see if it

sets off any ideas.

- For the collection.

For the collection.

So far, we've settled on blue.

Blue is the key color.

We can't seem to decide

on a theme.

- I don't see how that --

Has Evie had any ideas?

- She's a bit stumped,

too, I think.

It all ties in --

Nocturne, a nightpiece --

and we'd already decided

on eveningwear

in a range of blues.

Well?

- Yes. Yes, Evie.

And we make that the title

of the collection, Nocturne.

Not by Chopin or Whistler,

but by the House of Eliott.

Oh, well done, Evie.

We've got our theme. [Laughs]

[Knock-knock]

A letter, milady,

from America.

- Thank you, Chalmers.

I thought the fabric

should be in shot taffeta,

to get that

shimmering effect.

- Hmm, and the turquoise

adds a lighter note.

That's lovely.

It's like --

It's like one of the colors

in his other Nocturnes,

the blue and green.

- Hmm.

You know, Evie, those

paintings are famous now,

but, in their day, they caused

the most enormous fuss.

Whistler was controversial.

I was wondering if we should not

just be a bit daring, you know,

put colors together

that don't necessarily.

Is this my practical,

businesslike sister?

Well, not the whole show, but,

just the final tableau.

"Final tableau". Gosh,

sounds like a Charlot revue.

Well, Jack says we should be

as big and bold

as if we were on the stage

of the London Coliseum.

Oh, well,

if Jack says, then.

Ohh.

- Bea, it's a good idea.

I just think,

well, it needs --

- I know, refining a little.

Start again.

Here we are, boys.

- [Clamoring]

Hello, there, ma'am.

- Make sure -- that box --

you need not let in.

Okay. Put your arm

round my shoulder.

Miss Maddox.

A word, please.

- I wonder

what she wants now.

Okay. Take it easy.

Take it easy.

Put your arm round my shoulder.

There you are. Careful, now.

But I've always gone out

with the van!

The church is playing

a bigger part, now.

Reverend Adams is a very capable

man. Doesn't need help.

And what am I supposed to do,

sit about here all day,

leaving everything to others?

You might spend a little time

trying to think up

new ways of raising money.

I've been doing

the accounts.

Our bank balance is far

from healthy.

I'm not an accountant

or a miracle worker.

They've appointed you

administrator.

You think of something.

To make real money,

we need something

like this.

Well, what are they

supposed to be doing?

It is a dance, Miss Maddox,

for charity.

[Sigh] A charity ball?

That is grotesque!

If people had any real heart,

they would just give.

They're just parasites!

- I think a charity ball

sounds a good idea.

Oh, and in which book of the

scriptures did you read that?

- Theology was never

my strong point, Penelope.

if it's between faith and works,

I plump for works.

Now, who could we get who could

give it exactly the right...?

Valance!

Claude Valance.

- Well, who's he?

A very distinguished man

of fashion.

If I wanted fashion,

I would just go

to my friends the Eliotts.

The Eliotts?

I've never heard of them.

Monsieur Valance

is a couturier, French.

He could be

the guest of honor.

I do think it's a good idea.

Sometimes we have to do

things we don't like,

in order to raise money.

I'm quite pleased

with this,

so I have another

little chore for you.

They're in

a French magazine,

but you'll have to

help me.

I simply can't decide

which one.

I'm terribly sorry, but,

we're not doing this

kind of thing anymore.

What kind of thing?

We only do originals.

No copies.

But you've done copies

for other people.

I've seen them

on my friends.

Our policy has changed.

You see, we have a reputation

now for original work --

How damnably arrogant.

Aren't you getting a little

above yourselves?

Every house has its own way

of doing things.

Well, from now on, you may

do them without my patronage.

Don't ever expect

to see me here again.

- Madge, will you get

Miss Ratigan a taxi, please?

Taxi!

Well, that's a landmark:

the first customer

we have ever turned away.

I hope we've done

the right thing.

- Bea. Supper tonight.

Pick you up at 7:00.

Who do they think

they are?

Not doing any more copies?

- Nobody is.

It's rather going out.

I don't believe it.

Who on Earth am I going to

get to do my...?

Oh, taxi!

- Madge.

I couldn't!

It wouldn't be right.

- What you do in your own time

is your own affair, isn't it?

I'm sure you could do with

a little extra pocket money.

- Yes.

Tonight.

- Yes, I could.

These are awful!

You never made me look

like this before.

- May I see?

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm afraid I've sent them

to you without --

Without what, young man?

They should've been

retouched.

You mean to say that all

my previous photographs...?

Oh, it's not true.

You're losing your touch.

Everybody knows that.

I do not look like that!

- Well, I'm afraid --

Surely, you were aware --

Do excuse me for a moment.

Beatrice.

I will not.

[Drops book]

And I shall be taking

my custom elsewhere.

[Slam]

Oh!

- Oh, you should've been

a bit more tactful, Jack.

Blast the woman.

- She is your bread

and butter.

You're getting so cavalier,

the way you treat people,

including me.

"Supper tonight."

No "Please, thank you,

Is it convenient?".

- I have other things

on my mind.

Yes, and so have I.

Jack, I love to be with you.

You know I do,

but Evie and I are

very busy, at the moment.

- I wish you'd never thought

of that blasted collection.

Jack, you, of all people,

please be fair to me.

I have to concentrate

on the collection

for the time being.

You must see that.

You should be concentrating

on your work, too.

This work, right here,

not vague plans and dreams.

- If I were doing

what I'd wanted to --

Jack, that's not good enough.

Why don't you

retouch those pictures and

send them to the poor woman?

Forget the old dowager.

What about that supper?

I have to work

through tonight.

I can't load it all

on Evie.

So I have to wait

'til next Sunday?

Yes. Please.

[Music plays]

- Mm, thank you.

[Knock-knock]

- Yes?

Miss Howell!

I'm not so sure this is such

a good idea, after all.

You asked me to come here.

I did, didn't I?

On the table.

On the table, girl.

I simply cannot

make up my mind.

A copy of this one,

or that, or that.

Anyway,

could you manage it?

I think so.

I just don't know.

Those Eliott girls

would've got it right, but,

I don't know you.

I'd say

this one was you.

They're all me.

Why that one, especially?

Instinct.

I look at them all

and I look at you,

and that one is just it.

What would it cost?

How about

if I make you something

and you don't like it,

you don't pay?

You want to do this

quite badly, don't you?

Are you also

a little tired

of the Eliott sisters?

- I don't mean

to imply that, Miss.

Ambitious, I would think.

Well, that's no sin.

All right, do it.

On those terms,

what have I got to lose?

Bea.

- Shh!

Tell me

when I can talk.

Now. Why, what did you

want to say?

I'm just glad that you

and Jack -- well, you know.

Evie, shouldn't you

have someone?

I mean, well, I know

everything with Sebastian

was a terrible shock

to you, but,

well, you should go out

and enjoy yourself again.

After the collection.

Besides, you can talk.

Jack is at you and at you

to go out and you're

forever putting him off.

That is a sure way

to lose a man.

Is it? How do you know

so much about men?

One learns.

After Hugo and Sebastian,

give me someone

with sense and experience.

Shouldn't you get interested

in someone your own age, Evie?

Shouldn't you relax a bit more

and enjoy your romance

with Jack?

- Is it a romance?

It is for him.

He goes all soppy the minute

you walk in the door.

You're not fair

to him, Bea.

Well, because he's always,

as you say, at me,

to do this and to do that.

I really can't stand

to be badgered.

Well, if you end up unmarried

and on your own,

don't come crying to me.

If it's a choice between that

and being a man's footstool --

Jack would never tr--

Beatrice, you are becoming

quite impossible.

"In the vicinity", indeed.

I think you're keeping

an eye on me.

- What on Earth

makes you think that?

Brandy?

- Thank you.

Is everything all right?

I've had a letter

from Arthur.

He will keep on at me

to join him in Boston.

He's sure

I would like America.

Well, are you so sure

that you wouldn't?

Oh, such an upheaval, even

getting there: trains, ships.

It's America, Lydia,

not the South Pole.

This big, old house must be

quite a handful, hmm?

Sometimes I think I should

sell up and move to the country.

- You are a metropolitan

creature, Lydia.

You'd die of boredom

in the country.

It is quite easy

to die of boredom here.

I could open bazaars,

do good works.

Surely, there are some good

works one can do in the country.

Villagers

don't take kindly

to Londoners coming down

and bossing them about.

What a vulgar expression.

Really, Desmond.

As though I would ever

"boss" anybody.

I simply wish to discover --

- What to do with the rest

of your life.

I know.

I must confess I feel

lonely sometimes,

since my dear wife died.

Life is never

quite the same, is it?

And, in my case, all that

terrible, terrible business!

Now, now.

It's over.

It's long over.

Now you must look

to the future.

- Oh, that is rather

the point, Desmond --

what future?

[Gasp]

You startled me!

What on Earth are you doing

here at this time of night?

I've often been here

much later than this.

- You're not doing

those begging letters.

I'm writing the invitations

to the charity ball,

to those who usually

support us.

Well, there are other people

on staff to do such things.

I don't remember

authorizing

all this extra stationery

and envelopes.

[Sigh]

I ordered them.

Well, you shouldn't have.

Paper of this quality

is far too expensive.

It doesn't cost

the mission anything.

I donate it every year.

Like so many

other things.

This place will never function

in a businesslike way,

so long as you treat it

as your private charity.

Now, don't get upset.

I simply want to do

things properly.

- Well, do them, then!

Sit here 'til 4:00

in the morning,

like I have,

again and again!

Do them all, damn you!

Lydia, this is a somewhat

delicate matter, but,

have you ever thought

of remarrying?

Goodness!

Desmond!

Of course, one can never really

replace one's first love,

but, how to put it?

It could be such

a comfort.

I'm sure I'd find it so.

- Why, you dear man.

And, after all,

there must be many men

in the same boat

as yourself,

who'd be only

too happy to do --

Lydia, I am not that man.

Only a very special man could

meet your exacting standards.

I can only hope,

in my humble way,

that I can continue

to be your friend.

To friendship.

Friendship?

Yes.

You know, there's another of

Whistler's Nocturnes somewhere,

a wonderful image

of a rocket exploding

and all the stars floating

down the sky.

- I'm not quite sure

how we'd do that, though.

But, Evie, that's

our splash of controversy.

Shot silk.

Not blue, black.

Black velvet.

Black as night.

With an appliqué,

a scattering of stars,

gold and silver, red and orange,

and even purple stars.

Too much?

- Mm, just a bit.

And not black, no.

No, our color is blue.

[Chuckle]

Not on the gown itself, but

on a long, long veil, Evie.

All the

multicolored stars.

- Mm, emboldened, this,

very, very bold, against --

well, against

a deep-blue skirt.

- Fireworks would stand out

much more boldly against black.

Morning.

- Morning.

What are you up to?

Just getting the girls'

work ready.

Your hair's been looking

very nice lately, Tilly.

Who does it for you?

I've got this very nice

little hairdresser's

called Tilly Watkins.

[Chuckle]

Molyneux, Patou,

Fortuny, Hermane.

Oh! To be as famous

as that.

Yolande Hermane

has worked hard for years

to get to that position.

She deserves

any fame she has.

Well, she is clever, but I think

our ideas are just as good.

I suppose there must've been

a moment when someone started

to write about her,

that made her fashionable.

If only somebody

could maybe --

- No, Evie.

Put that right out of your mind.

We're not society.

We're two ordinary,

hardworking girls.

Well, it's not all grind.

Even though I do say so myself,

this is inspired.

Oh! In this first collection,

to make one big, bold impact.

What that would do

for us, Evie.

On the other hand, if we were

to make an unholy mess of it...

Right, 'night all.

- 'Night, Betty.

'Night, Madge.

- 'Night, Agnes.

Oh, bye. Bye.

Don't work too hard, eh?

You've had a long day.

- Oh, nearly finished.

'Night, Tilly.

- Goodnight.

Got ya!

I knew you were

doing something.

You got another job,

haven't ya?

And you're using our time

and our materials to do it.

- What I do in my own

time, Tilly --

- No, that's bits and pieces

done by our girls,

slipping them in, not even

knowing they were doing it.

Well, that's cheating

and you're cheating Miss Bea

and Miss Evie, you are.

- Oh, I work hard here.

I don't owe them anything!

I used to cover up for you,

all those times

when you were

getting things wrong.

That was my bad eyes.

I wasn't deceiving anyone.

They've done a lot

for us, they have.

And we do a lot for them!

We're the workhouse donkeys.

We carry the House of Eliott

on our shoulders!

And I am very glad

to do it.

All I've stolen is a bit

of the company's time.

All the material

and accessories,

I bought with me own money.

Well, I'm blowed

if I understand you.

It were a chance,

came out of nowhere.

They're very nice, but, I'd like

to be me own boss one day.

Tilly, please

don't tell on me.

It's beautiful.

- It's a wonderful location

for a love scene.

A little open, I think.

- [Laughter]

Evie would love

this place.

She could've come with us.

She always used to do.

- I want you, only you,

on your own, alone with me.

All right,

you've got me.

It took me so long to realize

what was there in front of me,

I'm scared to waste

another minute, in case --

In case what?

- In case I lose you.

Which is stupid.

How can I lose what

I haven't yet really won?

Haven't you?

I've heard of men

being jealous

of other men, but...

- Playing second fiddle

to a fashion collection?

It must be terrible.

Don't mock me, miss.

[Laughs]

- I know how important this

collection is to you and Evie,

but I have this fear

of being --

"Fear"?

What do you mean?

You're addicted to work,

to the House of Eliott.

At the moment,

it's the collection

and you say that everything will

be all right after that, but,

I think there'll be

some new notion,

some grand new program, and,

it's all work, Bea;

there's no life, and,

without a life, there's nothing

to feed back into the work.

I just have to hope that, one

day, work won't suffice anymore,

and then you will find

someone who always thought

he was an impatient man,

patiently waiting.

For you.

[Band plays upbeat music]

Evening.

Good evening.

Well, you look very grand.

I'm no good at this

sort of thing, but,

this is Robert Adams.

- Hello.

The Rev Adams.

He does so much

for the mission, these days.

- Pleased to meet you.

And this is Mrs. Cormack,

our new administrator.

Evangeline Eliott;

Beatrice Eliott;

and this is my brother, Jack.

- How do you do?

Miss Maddox's brother?

Oh!

I hadn't expected

such a dashing --

- It seems ages

since I danced.

Let's get to it, then.

Oh, Evie.

- Oh, Robert,

dance with Evangeline.

No, no, you're

on official duty.

I just want a table.

- Let me escort you, at least.

Be right back.

Thank you.

- Good evening.

How lovely to see you.

Good evening.

- What an unusual gown.

Good evening.

Oh, Jack, you will dance

with Evie after this?

- She's old enough

to look after herself

and pretty enough

to attract her own admirers.

- Jack!

All right, Evie

will not go neglected.

Everyone looks

so boring, Jack.

Must be at least one

interesting man here.

- There is.

You're looking at him.

Victor, what are you

doing here?

Of course,

working hard, huh?

- When Claude Valance

appears,

so do we.

A charity ball, Jack.

And a pretty dour charity,

at that, not very chic.

- No. No, my sister's

the director.

Ah! As they say,

"Whenever

I open my mouth,

I put my foot in it."

Introduce us, Jack.

Evie, this is

Mr. Victor Stride,

whose word on fashion

is law,

who can make or break you.

Victor, this is

Miss Evangeline Eliott.

- How do you do?

- Nice to meet you.

Are you one of those

two Eliott sisters

that people will keep

telling me about?

I suppose so.

You mean you don't know?

Victor, we're dancing.

Talk later.

What on Earth's

the matter, Evie?

- Jack, I have idolized

that man for years!

So you were struck

quite dumb. Poor Evie.

- I must tell Bea.

How is it you know him?

- We're drinking partners

from years back.

Bea, I have just met

Victor Stride.

- [Gasp] No.

Over there.

PENELOPE: I'm going to go

and sit down.

Don't you want

to dance, Penelope?

- No, thank you, Robert.

I'm not a good dancer.

Ask Mrs. Cormack.

I'm sure she is.

- Oh, no, we can't keep her

here all alone,

in case there are

any latecomers.

- I do like

champagne.

Probably because I can't

normally afford it.

I know it's eaten

all the profits, but,

just one glass each...

Is he married, Jack?

- Not as far as I know.

I thought you said

you'd known him for years.

- People who booze together

either talk

about personal matters,

or they don't, and he never has.

- Well, he is amazing.

He knows so much about women,

about why they choose

the clothes they wear.

- I'm glad someone

can explain it.

When I read Victor Stride,

I know, whatever Pen says,

that we're not just

in a business that dreams up

silly things for women

to show off in.

He really gets

to the heart of it.

- Oh, Jack, you must introduce

her to Victor Stride properly.

You designed this.

Yes.

And your sister's.

Monsieur Valance.

At last, a use

for my schoolboy French.

Very distinguished,

isn't he?

- Robert, great statesmen

may be distinguished,

great clergymen may be

distinguished,

but a man who has spent

his whole life

designing silly clothes

for silly women can hardly --

- It's charity,

Penelope, charity.

I know you hate all this,

but the cause is good.

Now, see it through.

Most people are...

inarticulate.

I mean, they can't express

themselves painting pictures

or writing books, but they

can express themselves

through the clothes

they wear

and to help them discover how

should be the ultimate aim

of every good designer.

- Mm.

I've always felt that

it's not just matching

the color of someone's

complexion or someone's hair,

but it's how to convey who they

really are, or want to be.

Yes. But there is a trap.

99% of the human race feel

they should be wearing

exactly what everyone

else is wearing.

It's your job to help them find

the courage to be themselves,

which includes the courage

to reject all our grand ideas

and wear any old thing

they please.

You still haven't said

anything about...

Real...

flair.

But it's being

constrained by something

too conventional.

You must trust

your talent.

Let the genie out

of the lamp.

When may I come

to the House of Eliott

to see more of your work?

Very salutary experience,

watching my young

rivals in action.

I have to say,

I still don't understand

why people don't come

to me anymore.

- You don't deserve

their custom.

Lately, you're offhand,

you're careless,

your mind's always

on something else.

I don't blame the public

for going elsewhere.

Not even my sister's ever spoken

to me as bluntly as that.

Well, you can hate me,

if you like, Jack --

Hate you? Don't be silly.

I love you.

And I love you,

that's why --

You actually said it.

You can't take it

back now.

- Take it back?

I don't say anything

unless I mean it.

When are we getting

married, then?

[Laughing] Jack,

is that a proposal?

Bea, will you marry me?

Jack, please don't

ask me that question.

Not yet.

I know:

after the collection.

- After the show.

And I'll definitely

think about it.

[Fanfare plays]

You do it.

- Ladies and gentlemen,

I am Martha Cormack, the new

administrator of our mission.

The prize for the raffle

this evening has been donated

by that aristocrat

of fashion,

the greatest couturier

of them all,

Monsieur Claude Valance,

who joins us now

to draw the winning ticket.

Monsieur Valance.

Number, uh...

- Number 382.

MAN: Ohh

- Oh!

Ohh!

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

a few words

from the founder of the mission,

Miss Penelope Maddox.

Um --

All I wish to say is --

- Yes, monsieur.

All I wish to say is that,

whilst we are handing out

prizes of extravagant clothes

and you are all dancing

and swilling champagne,

there are people out there

in the streets of London,

not 300 yards from here,

who have no beds,

no shelter, and no food

for the night.

[Guests clamoring]

- And that, if you had

any real charity in you,

you would have given your money

direct to the mission,

instead of making us

spend so much

on this ball

and this band

and all this stupid,

wasteful nonsense!

[Echoing]

Be quiet!

Well, Pen really went

too far, this time.

- Do you think we

should've seen her home?

No. No, I think Penelope's in

the capable hands of Rev Adams.

I don't care. I don't take

back a single word of it.

- But you insulted the people

who gave money to help us.

Why do you do such things?!

- I don't know!

Everything's changing.

- And you're getting

left behind?

[Whispering]

You created all this.

You've helped hundreds

of people.

There are others, now,

to continue your work,

but, without you,

it would never have begun.

Now, it doesn't belong

to me anymore.

- Oh, Penelope, I think

you have to come

to terms with that.

- I know.

I do know.

Thank you,

for putting me gently,

but firmly, in my place.

- Was I too brutal?

No. You're

very understanding.

I...I just don't seem to know

what to do with my life.

This isn't enough

for you anymore.

You must find something new.

I know I want to.

When I can get things settled,

I plan to go to Tanganyika,

spread the word.

- Africa?

Oh. Well, I say,

what tremendous news!

I might just go and see

that they put

an extra tea urn

in the van.

It's quite cold. There'll be

a big demand tonight.

I'll just go and change.

Thank you, ladies.

- Thank you.

Thank you, Bellingham.

There, that wasn't

too painful, was it?

No. Well --

- We have a photographic record.

Would you like to see it?

It's of our best --

Well, what we consider

to be our best --

Well, what we hope

to be our best work.

Photographs by

Jack Maddox, actually.

Ah, yes, Jack.

- Of course, there's no color,

but one can see the outline --

I do get the point.

BEATRICE: This was

for Lady Finehurst.

- Yes, I remember it.

She wore it

at, um...some viceregal affair.

So that was you two?

I had heard vaguely, at the

time, it was somebody new.

- Oh, and this is Mrs. White

at last year's ascot.

Quite...dashing.

And Dolly Haycock!

Interesting.

These are our sketches.

- Thank you.

Now we have the color.

Hmm.

How does one tell --

How does one tell which one

of you did which design?

Sometimes we can't tell,

ourselves.

When Evie has an idea,

then I'll sketch an outline

and she says

"No, more like this",

grabs a brush, adds her own.

We really must sound

hopelessly amateurish.

No, no no no no.

It's fascinating, but,

but perhaps it does

explain why, sometimes,

the genie doesn't quite

get out of the lamp.

Although,

I have to admit

more often than not,

he does.

What else?

Well, obviously,

what you're working on right

now is the most important.

We're mounting

our first collection.

Naturally, we're --

Ah!

And, naturally,

it's the greatest possible

secret and must be kept so.

Very frustrating for me,

but I do understand.

In Paris, they almost murder

for advanced news

of what Chanel

or Poiret are doing.

Really?

Your first collection!

Mwah!

- Ah, so I take it

that means he likes you.

Anything definite?

- One, maybe two,

articles in Soignée.

Can you believe it?!

I'm so sorry I disturbed you.

What are you doing?

- Well, each picture

represents a scene.

How clever!

- [Laughs]

I didn't invent it.

It's a good way of showing

potential investors

what the finished product will

look like on the silver screen.

If I could find any

investors, that is.

- But I thought film

was the thing.

[Scoff] Prising money

out of British businessmen:

"Films?

Bit frivolous, what?"

- Well, why don't you go

and see Desmond?

He likes you.

- Do you think I should?

Perhaps he'll be

my Victor Stride.

- [Laughs]

I'm very pleased.

I'm so, so proud of you.

The father dies; two sisters

are left alone in the world.

No money, no prospects,

but there is an aunt.

I wasn't alone.

My son, Arthur --

Ah, yes.

Arthur Eliott.

Hmm. He would've supplied the

necessary business knowledge.

- As they were

getting set up.

Those girls couldn't have done

a thing without Arthur.

No, go on. Business acumen

plus creative flair.

Please, go on.

Capital, Jack, capital.

But I must be honest.

My own board would be

unlikely to sanction

what they'd see

as a risky investment.

- Same old story.

[Chuckle] However, I do

have business associates

who might be a little

less highbrowed.

No promises.

Let me see what I can do.

Evie.

Evie. We have to make

a decision

about the final dress:

blue or black?

- Beatrice, I can't work and

think at the same time. Please.

Madge, what's this?

Would you come and see me

in my office,

when you've finished there?

Evie.

Miss Ratigan seemed

in a hurry.

Well, I was providing

all the materials

and working at home at night.

It didn't seem --

I didn't mean it to interfere

with our work here.

It was a sort of challenge.

- I see.

But it entailed more

than you realized.

I slipped in bits

for the girls to do.

But each one of them

did so little,

it didn't hold them up

that much.

That is for us to decide.

What's worse is

you raided our files.

You took blocks

from our plan chest!

I didn't steal them.

I returned them as soon

as I'd finished with them.

Madge, you have been

very foolish.

We value your work here.

The workroom is

so well-organized that,

despite our setbacks,

we're a little ahead of

schedule for the collection.

[Sigh]

Madge, you're to finish

Miss Ratigan's gown

without any further assistance

from the House of Eliott,

and then give us

your full attention.

I'm not...?

You may go now.

Never do it again.

Monsieur Duroque's.

It's almost the way

we stole Miss Spencer

from Monsieur Duroque's.

And look at us now.

I wonder where Madge

will end up.

I don't want it.

- You haven't even

tried it on!

I don't need to.

I can tell.

I've been up night after night

to get it finished.

I nearly lost my job

over this dress!

- Bad luck, old thing.

I don't owe you a penny.

You did it all

at your own risk.

[Singsong] Your suggestion,

by the way, not mine.

Why don't you like it?

My dear, you said yourself:

people only wear originals now.

That is a copy.

I thought you were

happy with it as it stood.

- It's a general-

interest story.

It goes beyond fashion.

- I didn't write this.

Now, Victor,

you wrote it all.

Except for that one

little para

that I want to slip in

at the top.

I am a fashion writer.

This is

scandalmongering!

I would not want

my name on it!

No.

No! The Eliotts are sincere,

hardworking young women.

You have no right

to do that to them.

It's a rough.

It can be modified, Victor.

Even a fashion writer

is a journalist.

And you must see that the

connection with Arthur Eliott

is simply too good to miss.

Now, let's see if we

can compromise, shall we?

Evie.

Evie!

- Yes.

I've just been thinking about

the final dress, the rocket.

- It's all right.

It's all right.

I've come round to your idea.

I think,

well, to be really dramatic,

it has to be on black.

- How funny. [Chuckle]

I've just been wondering

whether stars and spangles

on a black veil would ever

get the right effect.

It might look like

rather a tame gesture.

No, I think we go back

to the original idea: all blue.

- Good.

[Chuckle]

A backer?

You found a backer?

Yes, but not entirely

unconditioned,

and I have to say that I've

imposed the condition myself.

What do I have to do?

Surrender the freehold

of your studio

as security and collateral

against the loan.

Are you prepared

to do that?

Desmond, I would sign

my own mother over.

The studio?!

Absolutely.

[Chuckling]

Good man.

I think you'll find the amount

adequate to set up the company

and to fund

further development.

He must be very keen on cinema,

this chap. Who is it?

Benedict Elsom.

Elsom? Hmm, no.

Well, I don't know too much

about your world, Desmond, but,

any man who's prepared to back

me, that man, I have to meet.

Ah, well, that may be

a little bit difficult.

He's abroad on business

for a little while.

You'll meet him

when he gets back.

Desmond, I feel like a child

who's been given

the biggest train set

in the world.

Thank you. Thank you.

You haven't turned

this down at all.

If anything, it's worse.

Now, Victor --

- I thought you were running

a respectable fashion

magazine. This...!

- This has sold

more copies in a day

than we usually do

in a week.

This is gross

misrepresentation!

You're not thinking

of doing anything foolish,

are you, Victor?

- I ought to resign!

It's up to you.

We don't want

to lose you, Victor.

How nice.

I go sailing along,

unperturbed,

when I may have ruined

two reputations

and brought a prosperous

business crashing down!

Lydia, how could you

have done this to us?

- I didn't write it!

You are quoted repeatedly,

how you and your son

virtually set us up,

how Arthur was led

into a den of vice.

The distinct impression given

is the House of Eliott

was founded on funds

from illicit alcohol,

[crying] from drugs,

and from Lord knows what else!

- I didn't say

those things!

Then what did you say?

- Simply that,

as your older relatives,

Arthur and I naturally

encouraged you.

- When, in fact, you put every

objection possible in our way!

Oh, Beatrice,

don't scold me.

I feel so wretched.

Oh, you feel wretched?

- I said nothing!

I said not a word about

that dreadful Soho club.

The magazine added all that.

Would I bring it up?

I want to forget it!

Well, then, it must be

that detestable journalist.

What can you do?

I know what it's like

to have one's name

dragged through the mud.

You can protest all you like.

What people remember is

what they read about you,

in the first place.

Nothing wipes that out.

What effect will it have

on the business, do you think?

Well, nothing good,

I'm sure.

[Knocking]

- Oh.

Oh, Mr. Stride.

Mr. Victor Stride,

isn't it?!

I wish to see

your employers.

Miss Beatrice

and Miss Evangeline

have left instructions that you

are not to be admitted, sir.

I must see them.

I'm here to explain.

- As far as they're

concerned, Mr. Stride,

no explanation

would suffice.

I'm to see you

off the premises.

Perhaps you'd be

kind enough

to tell Miss Evie

I called.

My God.

What possessed you

to write that stuff?

- I didn't.

Fleet Street.

- If you can,

try to make them understand.

No, you

make them understand.

I don't know how

you can talk to that man!

- Beatrice, let me

tell you what he said.

I don't want to hear

excuses or apologies.

Bea, it's not

the end of the world.

When the collection

actually comes out --

- The collection is now

a huge risk, Jack.

We may have to think

of canceling the whole thing.

- Nonsense. It's just

what you need: the chance

to show the world just how

talented the Eliott sisters are.

And then, when it's over,

you can forget

about the collection

and you and I can get --

Don't keep on at me, Jack.

Please don't put

any pressure on me.

You know I hate it,

especially now.

Just leave me alone.

If I do leave you,

Beatrice,

that may well be exactly

how you end up: alone.

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