All language subtitles for A Green Journey 1990

Before you go,

I would like to remind you

that when we return
from Christmas vacation,

you will be facing

a new challenge
as well as a new year.

I am referring, of course,
to your confirmation.

A first step in
a journey through life

for you as young men
and women.

Now, as with
all my classes,

I will see
that you are prepared

to the very best of my
ability and I hope, yours.

Now, I wish you all
a very merry Christmas

and I hope that
you will celebrate

the true meaning
of the holiday

by attending Mass
with your families.

Now you may leave

in a quiet

and orderly manner.

Thanks, Miss McGee.

It's Harold, Miss McGee.
Harold Fielding.

I was in your class!
Must be 20 years ago.

Oh, yes, Harold.

I remember I caught you
smoking in the cloak room.

I see
you're still at it.
Merry Christmas, Harold.

Yes, Miss McGee.

Hello, Aggie!
Preston.

Have you met my
youngest grandson, Percy?

We're on our way to
have a holiday haircut.

Well, don't let me
keep you.

Merry Christmas, Aggie.

Merry Christmas, Preston.

And to you, too, young man.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

Here's for the needy.

Hey, merry Christmas!

Dear Miss McGee.

Many thanks for the fine likeness of you

in front of the lilac bush.

Here's a look at my mug,

as well as the family business in Dunbridge

which my brother, Matt, runs these days.

It was snapped by the local brewery driver on his rounds

when I was home visiting a few weeks back.

Dear Mr. O'Hannon.

Your letter arrived just in time for Christmas.

I find your mug most pleasing.

I usually spend my holidays alone or with my neighbor, Lillian,

but this year I'm expecting a guest

and she probably...

Oh, I was wondering
what happened to you.

I thought you got stuck
in a ditch. Come inside.

Thank you.

On second thought, Francis,
it's a long drive back
to the farm

and the radio says that
every road in Minnesota

will be closed
by midnight.

Yes, Miss McGee.

Aren't you going to
kiss your daughter
goodbye?

Yes, ma'am.

Ah! Now don't worry
about a thing.

We're only a block
and a half from
the hospital.

Merry Christmas, Francis.
Merry Christmas...

Yeah, put your hat on!
It's freezing!

Yes, ma'am.

Now,
let's get your coat off.

Thank you for
taking me in,
Miss McGee.

Oh, I'm always willing
to take in a former student,

especially
in a time of need.

Now, would you
like a cup of tea?

No, ma'am.

Oh, now, Janet,
there's no need
to be ashamed.

You made a mistake
with that young soldier,
but that's behind you now.

And since you insist
on raising this child alone,

you've got years of
responsibility
ahead of you.

Now, just promise me
that you're going to
be strong.

I promise.

All right.
Get your bag unpacked.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
It's much too heavy.

Your room's at
the top of the stairs.

Thank God services are still lovely and orthodox

here at St. Isidore's, Mr. O'Hannon.

Although every time I hear of some hotshot new bishop

dumping one of the old devotions

in favor of polka masses and guitars on the altar,

it makes me heartsick.

The only constant we have in our lives is our faith.

Let other things change, not that.

Look, Miss McGee.

All these gifts for the
first baby of the New Year.

There's loads
and loads of stuff.

Why, there's everything
from bassinets to booties.

Even 40 dozen
disposable diapers.
It's everything I need.

Must be worth over $300!

$457. I figured it out.

Oh, I wish you were as
mathematically inclined
when you were in my class.

My baby's gonna be
the one, Miss McGee.

Well...
I just know it.

They're only possessions.

Don't get your hopes
up too high.

As my mother always said,

"Babies will be born
when babies will be born."

All right.

All right.
All right.

Big push.

Janet Raft is one of my hardscrabble girls

from the poor farms north of town.

I've taken them in on more than one occasion when they're in trouble.

Here it comes.

But Janet's special to me, Mr. O'Hannon.

She's got a mind and a will of her own.

- Happy New Year.
- Happy New Year.

And to you, Daniel.
Yeah. Happy New Year.

Are you expecting?

Ah, not me, my wife.

Shouldn't you be with her?

Well, I was gonna
videotape it,

but I thought
with all that screaming.

What about you,
Miss McGee?

Oh, Janet Raft is expecting.

Do you happen to know
the family?

Oh, yeah.
One of them
worked for me once.

Not exactly
what you'd call
a reliable type.

This one unmarried
like all the others?

Is it a boy or a girl?

A boy. Only it's not
yours, Mr. Buckingham.

It's Janet Raft's,
Miss McGee.

Eight pounds
with lots of hair!

I told you he'd be
the New Year's baby.

And so he is.

What a beautiful boy!

You must be
very proud of him.

The one week I'm gone
and wouldn't you know,
there's a baby

born practically
right outside my
back door!

How was
your trip, Lillian?

They don't have the same
TV channels in Berrington

that we do in Staggerford.

Yeah, well, of course,
that's enough to spoil
anyone's vacation.

What's that
you're knitting?

A stocking cap.

Must be over
five feet long.

Yeah, the rest if it wraps
around your neck like a scarf.

See?

Well, that's fine
if you're a giraffe.

What?

Well, that's outrageous!

Agatha?

Now, Stephen Raft
was born two hours before
your son

and we all know it!

But he's
not the official baby.

And what's
an official baby?

I mean, that the
Chamber of Commerce

has never
had a policy
of awarding gifts

for an illegitimate birth.

Well, I have never heard
anything so deceitful
in my life!

Now, will you show me
where it says that

the child of an unwed
mother is not qualified?

It's an unwritten policy!
It's always been understood...

I wanna go home.

Let's just forget
about the whole thing.

Janet, these gifts
are rightfully yours!

They're only possessions!
You said so yourself!
It's really not...

Not anymore they're not!

Now they are
incriminating evidence.

Incriminating evidence?

Now, unless you
want a court case,

I suggest that you
and the other merchants

put together
a duplicate set of gifts

and you can deliver them
out to Mr. Raft's truck.
It's parked outside.

That's $500
worth of merchandise!

Still that's nothing
compared to what
you'll lose

when I decide to take
my business elsewhere.

Well, what business is that?

I'm chairman
of Women's Sodality.

I am in charge
of refurbishing
St. Isidore's rectory

and it's up to me to decide
where to buy the furniture.

I'll have my clerks
bring it out to his car.

As I tell
my 12-year-olds,

you save yourself
a peck of trouble if you
do it right the first time.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Junior Buckingham
was weak and sniveling
when he was in the sixth grade

and he's weak
and sniveling now.

Miss McGee,
you've been so kind.

I was wondering if I could
ask you one more favor.

Would you mind being
Stephen's godmother?

I thought
I told you not to ask
Miss McGee for anything else!

Hasn't she done enough
for you already?

Taking you in like
you was one of her own?

As if she were
one of her own.

Yes, ma'am.

And I'd be honored.
May I?

The temperature has been dropping all day, Mr. O'Hannon.

It'll be zero by tonight.

But I'll be safe and warm, correcting spelling tests.

How paltry compared to bringing a new life into this world.

Sincerely, Agatha McGee.

Stephen,
be careful now!
Not so fast!

My dear Agatha.

Your latest letter arrived
and with it, the spring.

You see?
Even the seasons await
your words and respond

as I do,
with a heart
eager to be reborn.

So your godson, Stephen,
is becoming a holy terror.

Can he be
four years old already?

As for your Bishop,
I was saddened to hear
the news of his passing.

Let's pray the new one
isn't the holy terror
of another sort.

I've never seen anything
so tasteless in my life!

Well, he looks like
a lot more fun than old
Bishop Swayles.

But bishops aren't
supposed to be fun.

And don't blaspheme.

If this isn't bad enough,

I've seen
his face plastered
all over the papers,

running in marathons,

playing the trombone
in a Dixieland band!

But you said you might
like to go to Ireland!

When did I say that?

You said once
that you wanted to
trace your family tree.

Well, perhaps I would
like to go one day,

but I certainly wouldn't
follow Bishop Baker
around the corner,

let alone
across the ocean.

Stephen.
Stephen, come on!

Be careful with those.
All right?

All right.

Well, if they survived
my father's battles
in 1902,

they'll survive his.

That's Randy!
Yes!

- Hi.
- Hi.

Hi, Randy!

Oh! Hiya, Stevie!

Oh, my buddy!
Oh, my buddy!

Hello, Miss McGee.

Mr. Meers.

Well, you ready?
Yeah.

Are you sure you don't mind
sitting with Stephen for
a couple of hours?

No, I'll enjoy having
a little life in my house.

Now, you two go on.
Okay.

I want to
go with you!

No, not now, honey.
You stay here.

We'll be back soon, okay?

Well, how would
you like a cookie
and a glass of milk?

Yes, Miss McGee.

Aunt Agatha!

Oh, don't worry, Janet.

I've been Miss McGee
since the time of Columbus!

Bye.

Sometimes I wonder, James, have I been true to my nature?

Have I fulfilled my destiny as a woman?

And if so, what have I got to show

for having spent my entire life in one small town,

in one small classroom?

Washing down the same blackboard for the past 43 years.

I have
every confidence
that you are prepared

for your Confirmation
on Sunday.

Our new bishop,
Bishop Baker,

will be here to
give you the sacrament.

So please be sure
to make your parents

bring you to the church
at 7:00 sharp!

Now you may leave in
a quiet and orderly manner.

Yes, Miss McGee.

Wait up!
Wait up, Cathy!

That's why I've decided to retire.

You're the first person I've told, James,

because I know you'll understand.

Although, I've threatened it before, this time I mean business.

No job
is a bed of roses!

Roses?
Oh, it's all weeds.

Archie's always
criticizing me...
He's your boss!

It's his job to
say those things

and it's yours
to listen to him.

Now you better
get back to work
before he fires you.

What's that?

What's it look like?

Oh, Randy.

Come here, you hunk.

I want something more for my remaining years, James.

I don't intend for them to come in one day

and find Miss McGee at her desk,

slumped over a stack of geography tests.

Miss McGee? Look.
Randy's asked me
to marry him.

Congratulations, Janet.

Now would you mind
running this off on
the copy machine for me?

Oh, sure.

Miss McGee,
why don't you like Randy?

Oh, it's not
that I don't like him.

I'm sure
he's quite likeable as
young men go these days,

but in the brief time
that you've known him,

he's been
a short order cook
at the Burger Skillet.

He's pumped gas
at the Jiffy Stop

and now
he's selling
water softeners.

He's just trying
to find himself.
That's all.

Yeah?
Well, he's had more
than enough time to look.

What concerns me more
is you.

I'd hate for you to
make any hasty decisions

that could hurt your
chances for the future.

Ah, Miss McGee.
There you are.

May I see you?

What do you mean,
he's not going
to attend?

From now on,
the new bishop will
only confirm those students

who come to him and request
the sacrament personally.

The man is deranged!

Every class that I have
taught at St. Isidore's,

for the past 43 years
has been confirmed!

These days,
our orthodox tastes are
not everyone's cup of tea.

Most of the parish
is happy

with the Bishop's
modernizations.

Six schools
closed in six months

and you call that
modernization?

I call it barbaric!

Now, I insist that you
talk some sense into him.

Oh! I don't have
to remind you,
Miss McGee,

a sister does not
tell a bishop
what to do.

Well,
I'm not a sister!

Easy, easy, easy!

It's a desecration what he's doing, James!

Removing all the saints! Streamlining the sacraments!

Next thing you know, we'll have drive-in confession!

Bless me,
Your Excellency,
for I have sinned.

Since my last confession
two weeks ago,

I have been troubled
by anger and despair!

Tell me what
is the cause.

A certain person.

A man.

A man?

Is it possible
for you to avoid him?

I doubt it.

You see,
he's my superior.

Although he calls himself
my servant,

I'm required to
follow his orders,

unwise as they are.

That is a problem.

May I ask
who is he?

You.

I beg your pardon?

You, Your Excellency.
You're the cause
of my anger.

You're the one who's
driven me to despair.

You refuse to
confirm my class
at St. Isidore's.

Is the mystery guest
Miss McGee?

Yes.

As I explained
to Sister Judy,

I'll confirm your kids,
but only when they come
to me and request it.

But your predecessor,
the late Bishop Swayles...

I am not my predecessor,
Miss McGee.

And my decision stands
whether you approve it
or not.

Now do you have
anything else
to confess?

No.

Then I absolve you
in the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Go in peace.
But I'm not finished yet.

Now, if my students
wish to be confirmed,

where and when may they
get in touch with you?

At my house,
at any time.

Goodbye,
Miss McGee.

One heart.

Two clubs.

Stop, please.

Three spades.

You must have
quite a hand, Dick.

Sorry to interrupt,
Your Excellency,

but there's someone
here to see you.

Didn't you tell them
that I'm occupied?

Yes, I did.
I tried to...

Excuse me,
Your Excellency.

No, please, son.
That's medieval.

Young man, I told you,
you could not come in here!
It's all right, Mrs. Curry.

It's all right.

All right, now, son,
what's the problem?

Your Excellency,
my name is Roger Edgeston
and I wish to be confirmed.

What? Now?

You said any time,
as long as you're asked.

That's a direct quote.

Well, I'm sorry,
Miss McGee.

You've caught me
at a bad time,
you see.

I'm trying to convince
members of the parish
council here to

ante up more money
for the restoration.

Have the boy
call me in the morning
and we'll make an appointment.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
Miss McGee,

I'd like to get
back to my game.

Now, three spades?

Mmm-hmm.

Is there anything else,
Miss McGee?

As a matter of fact,
Your Excellency,

there is.

Good evening,
Your Excellency!

All right,
Miss McGee.

I'll see that they receive
a full and complete proper
confirmation.

Uh, Mrs. Curry,
my vestments, please.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Sorry, boys.
Looks like I'm the dummy.

All right, everybody,
get ready to leave
for the church!

Miss McGee,
a minute, please.

I'll see you
tomorrow morning at
communion breakfast, Dick.

Good night,
Miss McGee.

Good night.

Come in,
Miss McGee, come in.

If only more people
had your spiritual zeal.

I wouldn't bid spades
with a hand like that.

May I say, Miss McGee,
you certainly live up
to your reputation.

Likewise,
Your Excellency.

Call me Dick.

You'll have to forgive me,
but I wasn't brought up

to call bishops
by their nicknames.

Huh. Well, then,
how about Richard?

I'll stick with Bishop,
if you don't mind.

Sister Judy tells me
that you're planning

to retire at the
end of the school year.

Yes,
I've decided
that it's time.

It's a shame to lose you.

I have a feeling
that we could be
great friends.

Well, I'd rather that you
remained my spiritual leader.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
our children are waiting.

Yes, Miss McGee.

I salute you, Agatha, for standing up to the Bishop.

You're indeed a woman of singular courage.

But being a singular spirit, I wonder, are you ever lonely?

I, myself, have had only three true friends in my life,

an old schoolmaster named Haggerty in my early days of teaching,

a fisherman called Langtry who was more at home in the pubs than on the water

and a school teacher in Minnesota,

who was perhaps the truest friend of all.

How lucky I am to have you.

Love, James.

"Love, James"?

Ten days
in Ireland, Agatha.

Doesn't it
sound exciting?

I already told you,
I'm not going.

But it'll be fun!

We've never been
on a trip together.

Well, traveling around
with a busload of biddies

doesn't exactly get
my adrenaline pumping.

Now come along, Lillian.

I don't want to be late
for my own surprise party.

You know!

Oh, Lillian! I've been
living in this town
my entire life.

I'd be a ninny
if I didn't know.

For everyone
who has ever been
in her class,

and looking around the room, I'd say that's almost everyone here,

Miss McGee
is St. Isidore's.

By her hard work
and dedication,

she has inspired over
1,200 students to
new horizons.

So, it's only fitting

that in honor of her retirement, we do the same for her.

It's a first class ticket on the Church's pilgrimage to Ireland.

Thank you very,
very much indeed.

I... For the first...

Dear James, what would you say if I told you that

we were finally going to meet?

You see, it seems I'm finally coming to Ireland.

♪ I think we're gonna
make some music tonight

♪ The stars around
This feeling so right

♪ Make some music tonight

You got a sweet
voice there, Randy.

Doesn't he, though?

Oh, you should've heard him
this afternoon singing
by the jukebox.

This afternoon?
Why weren't you
at work?

Oh, I was gonna tell you.
I left my job.

You left your job?
Why did you do that?

Archie said
I didn't meet my
damn sales quota.

Then you didn't leave.
You were fired.

Left, fired, who cares?

What's selling
water softeners mean

in the larger context
of life anyway, huh?

It means that you
have to make a living.

Maybe Miss McGee
was right.

Oh, jeez.
What're you always
bringing her up for?

What's she been saying
about me now?

That you don't know
what you want.

That you've got no drive,
no initiative.

Well, she hasn't seen me
make love to you.

Randy, how are we
gonna get married

if you can't even
afford to move out
of your parents' house?

I'll get another job.

There's nobody
left to hire you!

Look, maybe
it's too soon.

Maybe you're
not ready yet.

And maybe
neither am I.

Damn! God!

That old woman,
this is all her fault.

Why do you listen
to her anyway?

I owe Miss McGee a lot.

She took me in
when I had Stephen.

She got me a job
at St. Isidore's.

Yeah, and you've been doing
whatever she tells you
ever since.

What does
she know about love?

I bet she's never even
had a man make love to her.

What man would want to?

I don't want to listen
to this.

You go on.
You do what she says.

And then maybe one day,
you'll end up like her.

You know, running
other people's lives

because you don't
have one of your own.

You gave him
his ring back?

I already have
a child, Miss McGee.

What I want
now is a husband.

Someone to look out for
Stephen and me.

Sit still, come on.

Randy Meers was
never good enough for you.

I've always thought that.

He's had every opportunity
in the world and what has
he done with it? Nothing.

You'll find
the right man in time.

I thought I had,
Miss McGee.

I thought my life...

And now it all just...

Now, now, now.
Let's not have any of that.

I'm sorry,
Miss McGee.

But who's gonna
want to marry me?

I've got no money,
no name,

a son without a father.

Now, Janet, don't
underestimate yourself.

You turned into
a fine young woman,

with common sense
and responsibility.

You know,
I haven't been on a trip

since I took
the eighth graders to
Washington D.C. in 1972.

I envy you, Miss McGee,
going to Ireland.

Even if it is with
the Bishop and Mrs. Kite.

How would you
like to come along?

To Ireland?

It would do you good.

Can't afford it.

But I can.

I'll just trade in
my first class ticket
for two in tourist.

But it's your
retirement gift.

Well, then I can do
what I like.

Well, what about Stephen?
I mean, I can't just
leave him.

Well, you leave him
with your father
and sisters

every day when
you go to work.

I'm sure they'd
be more than delighted
to look after him for you.

Besides,
it's only
for 10 days.

Ten days?
I've never even
been gone overnight.

Then it's time you
got out of Staggerford.

It's time we both did.

I wish you'd change
your mind, Agatha.

I told you over
and over, Lillian.

I'm going on ahead
to Dublin to trace
my family tree.

Tracing your family tree
won't take 10 whole days.

Well, it's a very
extensive family.

You'd see
a lot more of Ireland
if you went with the group.

Well, to be honest...

Drop dead, dirtbag!

Yeah, what?

I need more in my life
right now than I can
find in a group.

Your Excellency.

Hello,
Your Excellency.

Well, what'd you do,
drink a lot of stout?

Well, don't drink
too much here

because you've got
a lot to do over there.

Ah! Hello, Janet.
Mrs. Kite.

Your Excellency.

We having fun?

Oh, it's just wonderful,
Your Excellency.

Please, please, ladies,
none of this formality.

Just call me Dick.

All right.

Could you
stand a little
to one side, Dick?

You're blocking
the screen.

Sorry, Lillian.

I see
Miss McGee is asleep.

I was hoping
I could convince
her to come with us.

Yeah, well,
I've already tried.

She can be plain
bullheaded sometimes.

Well, next stop, Ireland.

Pleasant dreams,
Miss McGee.

Agatha?

A bishop in checks!

Well, I suppose
we should be grateful

that he didn't come
dressed as a leprechaun.

You cannot imagine my astonishment

when I read that you were coming after all these years to Ireland.

I hope we have the opportunity of spending some time together.

Some time?
I should hope so.

Excuse me?

Oh, nothing.

Put the luggage
in the back, please!
Yes. All right.

You go back
to sleep now.
All right. Bye-bye.

How's Stephen?

He's fine, only
I woke everybody up.

Well, now
I want you to
take your mind

off things back home
and have a good time.

Hurry up, Janet!
I saved you a seat
up front with me!

I wish
you were coming along.
Last call!

Well, I'll see you
in Dublin in three days.

All right.

I know you can
survive until then.
Now off you go.

Take care.
Yeah, and take out
your raincoat.

Now they say
that the Irish weather
changes from minute to minute.

All right. Take care.

See you
in Dublin, Agatha.

Have a good time.

Going my way,
Miss McGee?

Oh, I thought you were
on the bus, Your Excellency.

No, I'm driving
ahead to Dublin.

Can I give you
a lift?

No, thank you.
I've already planned
to rent a car.

Well, there's no sense
both of us renting a car
to drive to the same place.

Well, nonetheless,
I prefer to travel alone.

Well, what if
you get lost or
you have a flat tire?

Well, then I will
ask for assistance.

I don't suppose that you're
accustomed to driving
on the left.

Fortunately, I still
have the capacity to learn.

Miss McGee,
it's been a long trip.
You must be as tired as I am.

And frankly,
I could use some help
in reading these damn...

Uh, darn maps.

I could never make
head or tail out of them.

Tell me,
Your Excellency,

why aren't you
with the group?

I mean, Mr. Garvey's
brochure made it look
as if you were the leader.

God help them.

I am, but
first I have a little
big game hunting to do.

Oh, elephants,
rhinoceros?

No, no, much more
endangered species
than that. Priests.

Seems to be fewer
and fewer of them
every year.

You know,
I'm trying to bag a couple
for our parishes back home.

Well, then you might try
dressing as a bishop
rather than a tourist.

No, no, it's easier
to get around this way.

You see, the faith is
very strong here
in Ireland.

People tend to confuse
bishops with saints.

Well, that would
be a mistake.

Yeah.

Oh, look at that view!

As much as I try to
picture it in my mind,

it always amazes me
when I actually see it.

You know,
I find a spot like this,

I just want to
burst out into song.

♪ Wrap me up in me oil skins and blankets

♪ No more on the dock I'll be seen

♪ Just tell me old shipmates I'm taking a trip, mates

♪ I'll see you someday at Fiddler's Green ♪

Care to join me,
Miss McGee?

Well, let's not add
to Ireland's troubles.

We really should continue.
I want to get to Dublin
before nightfall.

Miss McGee, I have
something to confess.

A bishop
confessing to me?

Well, there was
method to the madness of
asking you to drive with me.

As you know, many
of our parochial schools
back home have been closed.

Well, you've destroyed
six of them yourself.

Destroyed is hardly
the word that I would use.

Well, it's my word
and it's perfectly accurate.

I'm sorry
you feel that way,

but the cost of keeping
those schools open
is exorbitant.

But education is
not a financial matter.

I don't believe
they'll continue to serve

the same purpose
that they once did.

Are you telling me that
I devoted my life to
a lost cause?

Hardly! Your contribution
to St. Isidore's has
been invaluable.

You'll be remembered
long after it's gone.

You mean
St. Isidore's is
next on your hit list?

In two years.

Oh! This is
insufferable!

You're a bishop.

How can you
strip your churches
and close your schools?

One door closes.
But another one opens.

Well, thank goodness
I got out of that door

before you slammed it
in my face.

Miss McGee,

as you know,
Sister Judy is leaving.

She's going to
assist Father Finn,
who's getting on.

Oh, and
who's going to take
her place as principal?

Well, I...

Or are you planning
to do away with that
position altogether?

No, no! I have
a replacement in mind.

Someone who knows
all of the ropes.

Someone who knows
St. Isidore's better
than St. Isidore himself.

Oh, don't look at me.
I retired. Remember?

You were there
blowing your horn.

Well, you could always
make a comeback. Huh?

Oh, no.
I won't be your
lame duck principal.

Last person
left in the halls,
going from room to room,

making sure that
the lights are out

and the blinds
are down, etc, etc.

No, I have other plans
for my retirement,
thank you,

and they don't
include presiding over
the demise of St. Isidore's.

Yeah.

Well, here we are.

Yeah.

Hope the trip
wasn't too unpleasant.

Oh, not for
the most part.

Well, I'm off
to the seminary
for a couple of days.

Oh, uh, Miss McGee.

Will you think about
what we discussed?

- I already told you.
- I've made up my mind.

Good luck
with your hunting.
Bring them back alive.

Now then, James.
What do you think of this?

Huh?

Me, neither.
I'm going out to dinner,
not to a teachers' conference.

Hello?

Oh, yes!

Yes, I'll be right down.
Thank you very much.

Mr. Hibbins,
you have a phone call.

Phone call
for Mr. Hibbins.

Agatha?

At last, Agatha.

Yes, James, at last.

It's not a bad
bus ride from Ballybegs,

if you don't mind
the stops and starts.

I have my own special seat
in the back of the upper deck,

where I can
look out above the
dust and the grime,

and for a few minutes,
feel like God in his heaven.

Now what are you
finding so interesting?

Your voice.

So many times
I've tried to
imagine it.

Well, if you only knew
how many times
I'd longed to

hear yours as well.

To see your
face before me in person,
not just in a photograph.

Then you're not sorry
that I came?

Sorry?

Well, after your last letter,
I was a bit concerned
that perhaps...

Well, I shouldn't
even tell you.

No, please. Go on.

I'm afraid
you'll think
I'm foolish, James,

but I thought
I sensed a certain

reticence?

Well, I must admit
I was surprised at first
to hear of your coming.

We Irish aren't
the world travelers
you Americans are.

And of course,
after so many years
of anticipation,

one can't help having
certain expectations.

I hope I haven't
disappointed you.

You've more than surpassed
any hopes I might have had.

Thank you, James.

Oh, don't thank me.

I only hope
I don't prove to be
a disappointment to you.

That's beef for the mister
and cod for the missus.

Thank you very much.
Enjoy your food.

I guess
we do look like
an old married couple.

Heaven help us
from the ones
I've seen.

They usually sit there
staring down...

Staring down at their plates,
exchanging barely a word
except, "Pass the salt."

Mmm. Oh, it's the same
back in Staggerford.

All around,
marriages are crumbling
like fruitcake.

Husbands and wives united
in the eyes of the Church,
but aside from that,

they are strangers
to each other
their entire lives.

So many people
have difficulty

knowing what's in
each other's hearts.

But not us, James.

You and I
are kindred spirits.

It's our being Irish,
you know?

There's always a bond
between Irish hearts.

Tell me, Agatha,
why didn't a woman
such as yourself ever wed?

Was it principle
or circumstance?

Oh, circumstance,
I suppose.

When I had the opportunity,
I didn't have the need,

and when I had the need,
I didn't have the opportunity.

What about you, James?

Oh, circumstance as well,
you might say.

Well, circumstances
can always change.

Well, you must be weary,
traveling all the way
from Minnesota

with your nemesis,
the Bishop.

You know,
he's one of those people
you could almost like

if it weren't
for his beliefs.

Yeah, well,
what you need is
a good night's rest.

I'll come by tomorrow
and give you
a proper tour of the city.

What about 10:00?

Oh, 10:00
would be perfect.
All right.

And thank you for
a lovely evening, James.

Oh. Right, yes.

Well, I suppose I'd better
be getting my bus back
to Ballybegs.

And four points
in between.

This is a statue
of Anna Livia,

known affectionately
in Dublin as
"The Floozy in the Jacuzzi."

Isn't it
a wonder, Agatha?

What is it about Brueghel
that people like so much?

I've never
understood it.

Oh, surely you see it.

See what?

Life! Everywhere!

Oh, not as I know it.

It's so chaotic
and unpredictable.

Exactly. It can be
frightening, but
it's also...

It's also thrilling.

I prefer
tranquility and order.

As I tell my students,
everything in nature
has its proper place.

Its proper place. Yes.

And what about you, Agatha?
What's yours?

Oh, I wish I knew.

I hope that by coming here
I might gain some
new perspective.

If only God would
take His brush

and do for us what
these painters
have done,

put us in
our proper place.

Yes.
And in the best possible
light, of course.

Thank you for all the time
that you've spent with me
today, James.

I don't want
to be a burden
to you, though,

you know, taking you away
from your classes and
your students.

Burden? How could you
be a burden

when nothing in my life
has given me so much joy

than knowing that
you're a part of it.

What's it gonna be
tomorrow?

More antiquities?
Or the sea?

Oh, whatever you like.

Well, I thought
we might take a train
down to Dun Laoghaire.

There's a magnificent
pier there

that stretches way out
into the sea.

Oh, how lovely. Well,
then Dun Laoghaire it is.

Miss McGee?

Oh, Janet.
What are you doing here?
You weren't due till Sunday.

I, uh...
I left the tour early.

Mrs. Kite wanted us to
be together every minute.

I saw more of her
than I did of Ireland.

Janet, this is
James O'Hannon.

James, this is Janet.

Raft, am I right?

And how's
young Stephen?

He's just passed
his fourth year,
if I'm not mistaken.

Oh, and congratulations.

Please accept
my congratulations

on engagement
to the Meers boy.

He's your boyfriend.

- Of course he's not.
- Don't be ridiculous.

He is. I can't believe it.
James O'Hannon is
your boyfriend.

Will you stop
saying that?
He's 65.

All right,
he's your man friend.

Oh, Miss McGee,
I'm so happy for you.

I just think
it's wonderful!

Here we are, miss.

Oh! Thank you very much.
Could you just leave
the bag inside?

Sure.
Thank you.

When did you meet him?
Yesterday.

That was fast.

Well, actually
we saw each other for
the first time yesterday,

but we've been
corresponding for years.

Come on in.

You're pen pals?

In a way,
I suppose you
could say that.

He wrote a letter to
the editor of The Fortress
about five years ago

that caught my eye,
condemning the recent
changes in the Church.

He said exactly
what was in my heart.

So I wrote to
the address that he gave.

Ballybegs,
County Wicklow, Ireland.

I wondered if
it would ever find him,

but shortly after,
a letter arrived,
in a gray envelope.

And then another,

and soon we were
sharing our thoughts,
our feelings and our lives.

Would you like
a glass of water?

Sure.

So that's how
he knew about Stephen
and Randy and me, huh?

What does he do?

He's a teacher.

Just like you.
And he's so handsome,
Miss McGee.

Is he what
you expected?

Well, actually,
he's more.

No wonder you wanted to
come on straight to Dublin.

Does anybody else know?

Not a soul.

Not even Mrs. Kite?

Oh, especially not
Mrs. Kite.

But she says
you tell her everything.

Oh, and she tells
everybody else.

Well, don't worry.
Your secret's safe
with me.

It's so romantic.

Oh, Janet.

But you're in love,
aren't you?

Oh, certainly not.
James and I are
correspondents.

We're friends.

That's not what I saw
when he looked at you.

Well, what did you see?

Miss McGee,
you may know a lot of stuff,
more than anybody else I know,

but this is one area
that I know something about.

Trust me.

James O'Hannon's
in love with you.

Over there
is the Martello Tower
of Joyce's Ulysses.

You follow the land
around to the north,
you'll come to Howth Head.

And beyond that,
the Wicklow Hills.

Yes.

Oh, I'm told
they're very beautiful.

Yeah.

Can we go there, James,
tomorrow or the next day?

I'm afraid not.
I've other things
to attend to.

A friend of mine
died in this harbor,
name of Desmond.

Went out
sailing one Sunday,
overdid it and drowned.

Did he have any family?

He was a priest.

But no death
affected me more
than my sister's, though.

Marion.
Yes.

It's been grim
going home since then.

My brother, Matt's
letting the pub go down.

It's not as cozy as it was
when she and my mother ran it.

But I still make
that journey back

when I want to
remember how it felt,

having the presence
of a woman, I mean.

Do you know there's
wind in the name McGee?

Oh, there is?

Yes, it derives from
the word, gaoth, or wind.

The wind that
brought you here.

James, you know
what I'd like to do most

while I'm here is to
go there with you
to Ballybegs.

I've seen it
through your letters

and I've imagined it
myself so many times.

We could go to church.
We could share
Mass together.

What is it, James?
What's the matter?

I'm sorry to have to
tell you this, Agatha,
but we...

We won't be able to
see each other again.

James, please,
tell me what's wrong.

Well, something's come up,
a sort of crisis.

A crisis?
Is it your teaching,
your work?

No, no, not that.
Or is it your family?

Is your brother, Matt,
not well again?

No, it's nothing
like that. It...

Well, what then?

I mean,
you'd write it
to me in a letter.

Well, a letter's
different.

But we always
tell each other
everything.

We always have.

Well, maybe
someday I will,
but for now,

let me just say
how very much
you mean to me.

What time is James
picking you up?

Oh, he's not.

I'm going
to meet him.

As a matter of fact,
there's a bus that
leaves Aston Quay at 9:30

that gets into Ballybegs
at 10:40, in time for
the late Mass.

The one that he prefers
with the choir.

That'll be nice.

Well, I can't very well
go back to Staggerford

without going
to church with him.

Not after all this time.
Goodbye.

Oh, you stay there
and finish your breakfast.

Bye.

Ballybegs, next stop!

Ballybegs!

Excuse me.
Could you direct me
to St. Bridgett's Church?

Go up the hill
to the street leading
up to the glen.

It's on the left.

And say a prayer
for me, darling.

Thank you very much.

Brandon! Come on!

I'm coming!

Pardon me.
Would you happen to
know a James O'Hannon?

O'Hannon?
Yes.

In the name
of the Father, the Son
and the Holy Spirit, amen.

The Lord be with you.

And also with you.

Why?

Why have you
done this to me?

I've served
and defended you.

I've given you
my entire life.

How could you
let this happen?

How could you bring me
all this way when you knew
it was my only hope.

But she's got to be here.
She arrived three days ago.

We want you all to register
and have your passports ready.

I'm sorry, madam.
She just checked out.

Is something
the matter, Lillian?

Oh, Dick,
he says that
Agatha's checked out.

Checked out?

Mrs. Kite, is some...

Oh, Janet! Something
awful has happened.

Agatha's disappeared.

Disappeared?

Well,
she checked out.

You haven't been
in touch with her,
have you?

Not since this morning.

Well, the desk clerk said
she was beside herself.

I wonder if it has
something to do...

Something to
do with what?

I can't say.
It's a secret.

Agatha and I
don't have secrets.

Excuse me, Bishop.

I sent her to
a dear friend I know
who runs a little B&B.

Rosella Coyle,
salt of the earth.

Oh, Janet,
why don't you go
and have a talk with her.

You know,
just make sure
she's safe and sound

and she knows
what she's doing.

Miss McGee always knows
what she's doing.

I knew
it was a mistake for
her to go off on her own.

She should've gone with us
to Waterford and had lobster!

She's barely just arrived.

She couldn't stand the noise
on O'Connor's Street,
so I sent her straight up.

In here now, dear.

Thank you.

And I'll go and get her.

Oh, I just
needed to be alone,
that's all.

I was gonna call you
when I got settled.

What happened
with James?

I've decided
not to see him again.

Why not?

Here now.
That'll take the chill
out of it.

Thank you, Mrs. Coyle.

He's not my type.

I thought
he was everything
you ever dreamed of.

Oh, he could be
a few inches taller.

But you have
so much in common.

You both
love the Church.
You're both teachers.

Well, now,
let me tell you what
kind of teaching he does.

It's a very special
kind of teaching.

From the pulpit.

He's a priest?

I didn't know he was a priest.
You never mentioned
anything about...

Miss McGee,
you didn't know either,
did you?

I'm so sorry.

I thought we were
kindred spirits,

that our hearts were one.

At least,
that's what he
led me to believe.

But he's a liar.

Our whole relationship
was a lie.

Well, I won't
tolerate liars.

Whatever the cloth
they wear.

When I get home,
I'm gonna burn
all his letters.

Well, I've wasted
enough time.

I intend to get on
with my trip.

Mrs. Coyle said that
there's quite an impressive
promenade quite nearby.

Oh, listen to this.

"The visitor is greeted by
the sound of welcoming
sea gulls overhead,

"while on
the sun-drenched horizon,

"fishing boats
bob atop white caps

"like half shells of walnuts
suspended on strings."

Well, must be a sight
not to be missed.

- Hello.
- Randy?

Janet?
Is that you?

Where are you?

I'm in Dublin.

Is something wrong?

No. No, nothing's wrong.

It's 2:00 in the morning.

Oh, I forgot
about the time.

I was just wondering
how you are, you know,
what you're up to.

Well, let's see.

I went up to
your dad's farm today
to see Stephen.

You did?

Yeah. I took him
for a ride in the car.

You know,
we put in some tapes,
we sang along.

Does he miss me?

Oh, sure, he misses you! I miss you, too.

Oh, hey, guess what.

I got myself a new job,
selling real estate
for my father.

He's gonna let me
show the Vaughn place
on River Street.

It's listed for 70,000.
Think what my commission
will be if I sell it.

That's great, but, you know,
don't get your hopes up
too high.

Why not?

Well, you know how you get
when things don't work out
the way you want them to.

First, you lose interest
and then you quit.

Thanks for
the load of confidence.

I didn't mean it
that way.

You still don't have
any faith in me,
do you?

I didn't say that.

It's what you're thinking. It's what you and Miss McGee...

Why do you have to
bring her into it for?

I'm not!
You're usually
the one who does.

Look! I didn't call
all this way just to
get into a fight.

Well, what did you call for?

If you can't figure that out,
you're even more hopeless
than Miss McGee says you are.

Goodbye, Randy. Janet...

Bishop Baker?

Janet, I'm sorry
to disturb you,

but I was concerned
about Miss McGee.

Did you see her?

She's pretty upset,
all right.

Mmm. Did she say why?

Please, Your Excellency,
don't make me tell you.

She'd die if anybody knew.

Now, Janet, I'm not asking
as the bishop or as the
tour leader or...

I'm asking
as a friend.

I care about Miss McGee
as much as you do.

If she's in
some kind of trouble,

I want to know
so I can help her.

Come on in.
Thanks.

Um...

There's this man that
she's been writing to
for a few years now,

sort of like pen pals,
but more serious.

How serious?

She fell in love.

Miss McGee?

Is it so hard to believe?

She came all this way
just to see him,
but it didn't work out.

He doesn't love her.

Oh, he loves her all right!
At least, I think he does.

He's just not available.

You mean he's married?

You could say that.

To the Church.

He's a priest?

A Catholic priest?
Who is this man?

Please, Your Excellency,
don't ask me...

Janet, I want to know.
It's important that
you tell me.

His name is
James O'Hannon.

O'Hannon.

He lives in some town
called Ballybegs.

Ballybegs.

Well, it seems
St. Patrick didn't chase all
of the snakes out of Ireland.

May God bless you.

Thank you.

Father O'Hannon?

I am, Your Excellency.

Bishop Baker.

Diocese of Barrington,
Minnesota.

Dick!

Ha! How's the trombone?

You're still
playing with that band
every Thursday, isn't it?

That's right.

However,
I haven't come here
to discuss myself, Father.

Well, no.
No, of course not.
Please, please come in.

So, Agatha has
told you about me, huh?

Actually it's a young woman
who's traveling with her.

Oh, that would be Janet.

You seem to know
all about us.

Oh, Agatha keeps me informed
about the goings-on
in Staggerford.

Please, go in, please.
Sit down. I'll just...

Oh, yes! We got to
know a great deal
about each other,

Agatha and I.

Then you should
also know that she's
very upset.

Of course, you may say
this is none of my business,

you may be right,
but the fact is...

The fact is
that I'm a priest
and I didn't tell her.

Would you like
a whiskey?

No, thank you.

Tell me, Bishop.
Have you ever wanted to
know a woman?

Not as a priest,
but as a man.

I suppose
that's natural enough.

But we decide against it
when we're ordained,
don't we?

I'm not talking about
the desires of the flesh.

I'm talking about
the desire to
understand a woman,

to share
one's soul with her.

I mean,
that's innocent enough,
isn't it?

Why not?
Why shouldn't we have
women friends?

I encourage it in my priests,
but then, why hide the fact?

Oh. The only
indiscretion in me life

and in less than two days,
here's a bishop after me!

It's more than
an indiscretion, Father.

It is years of
concealing your identity.

I beg to differ with you,
Your Excellency.

Never in my life
have I revealed
so much of my identity

as I did to Agatha.

I've told her
a thousand things
I've never told anyone else.

All except the most
pertinent of all!

That you are a priest!

One fact withheld
out of a thousand.

But that is
the most important fact.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.
Now if you'll excuse me,

I've got my cooking
to attend to.

And I'll come back later
after you've eaten.

Oh, you'll join me.
That's what you'll do.

I'll put another steak
on the cooker.

I'm not very hungry.

Well, eat what you can.
What you can't,
you can leave.

Oh, come on, Bishop.
You cannot drink on
an empty stomach!

You, uh, you do
your own cooking then?

Such as it is.
My own housekeeping
as well.

Now, Bishop,
would you care
for a few mushrooms?

I picked them myself
this morning.

There's a forest
grove near here

which is a grand
place for mushrooms.

I'll skip the mushrooms,
thank you.

Admit it.

You've no faith
in my ability

to pick the good ones
from the poison ones, right?

Well, one...

One can't be too careful.

But these are delicious!

No, no, thank you.

Oh, now, look here.
I'm gonna make
a mushroom-eater of you yet.

Lady Wellington,
where the devil
are you?

Pussy! Oh,
there you are.

Now see here, Bishop.
This is the proof.

I'm gonna feed
some mushrooms

to Lady Wellington
and see if she survives.

Come on, now.

The verdict's in!
She lives!

Well, here's
to your tour of
Ireland, Bishop,

a happy one overall,
I trust.

I hope
I didn't snarl it
up for you. Cheers.

It's not myself
I'm concerned about.

You still haven't
explained why you sent

the sort of letters
you did to Miss McGee.

Well, try looking at it
from my side, if you will.

I mean,
how well do you
know Ireland, Dick?

This is my fourth visit.

Oh, then,
you've some idea of
the clergy's role here.

Well, you probably saw it
yourself coming through town.

Nothing but worshipful
smiles and admiration,

which is fine,
if you're a prince,
but I'm a man.

A man with no friends.

Agatha was
the closest one I had,

even though she was
10,000 miles away.

And if you were so close,
why didn't you confide
your situation?

I tried to
dozens of times.

But I'd always
tear up my attempt,

afraid that if she knew,
it would destroy everything.

That I'd become a sort of
walking icon to her
like I am to everyone else.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Oh, wouldn't you?

Have you persuaded
her yet to call you
by your proper name

instead of,
"Your Excellency"?

You know as well as I do.
Agatha takes her religion
straight up!

I wonder if
that's how Randy and I
would've looked one day.

It takes a long, long
time to look like that.

So where are you
off to today?

Oh, I don't have
any plans, really.

Well, you didn't come
all this way to
hold my hand.

I don't mind.

It makes me less homesick
for Stephen and my dad
and my sisters

and for Randy.

Did you know that
there was wind in
the name, McGee?

You know,
James told me that.

Oh, there's no
point in talking
about him anymore.

It's over
and done with.

But I'm not over
and done with it.

You know, Janet,
I'm really looking forward
to my retirement.

I've got a stack of books
I've been meaning to get to

and my vegetable garden
is in desperate need
of attention.

Oh, and then there's
the Retired Teachers'
Association.

You know, Lillian's
been after me for years

to join the Staggerford
Senior Citizens' Group.

I suppose
I'll be there with them
Thursday nights,

playing bingo
and listening to them

bragging about
their grandchildren.

Preston Warner had
seven at the last count.

Mr. Warner who owns
the hardware store?

Yeah.

What made you
think of him?

Oh, nothing.

He proposed to me in 1944.

Of course, in those days,
his father owned the store.

I turned him down.

You didn't love him.

Oh, on the contrary.
I loved him madly as
only a 19-year-old can.

Oh, he was quite
a sight to behold,

on leave
from the army.

In his uniform.
Like Gary Cooper.

Then why didn't you say yes?

Well, I was the daughter
of a prominent attorney

and his father owned
a hardware store.

I thought I had
higher aspirations

than being the wife
of a man who weighed

nails and measured
barbed wire.

How was I to know that
no one would ever
ask me again?

James, I really
got to hand it to you.

Those mushrooms
were delicious.

As we say in the States,
you really know how to
pick 'em.

She came all this way
only to discover that

the man she's given
her heart to is not
only a priest,

but a common liar
to boot.

James.

James, James, James.

Oh, my God!

James!

The cat is dead.

It's the mushrooms.

I knew it.
We shouldn't have
eaten those mushrooms.

James,
we've been poisoned.
James! You hear me?

We've got to find
a doctor, fast.
It's the mushrooms.

It's not possible.

Uh, yes, it is possible.
Where's the nearest hospital?

Hospital?

Yes, hospital!
We've got to get
to a hospital.

Is there a hospital
in Ballybegs?

Nearest one
is St. Finian's.

St. Finian's?
How do you get there?

Well, you go
out the front door.

Oh, no! Come on.
Turn right...

Come on!
Let's get going!

I'm beginning to feel
the poison already!

Well, I don't
feel anything!

I've been
picking mushrooms in
that place for 30 years!

Oh, I hope
they can save us!

Lord, please,
don't let me die now!
I've got so much to do!

Are you sure
you don't want me to
walk you over to Mrs. Coyle's?

I'll be fine!
I plan to take
a hot tub

and then I'm going
to go to bed early.

Now you run along
and have a good evening.

Excuse me.

Hello, Miss Raft.
There's someone
waiting for you.

So the buyers
and the sellers were
9,000 apart.

Uh-huh.

Okay, but it's not a lot
for a house in this
price range,

so I get
on the phone
with the buyer.

I get him
to come up with
his offer 4,000

and then I went out
and saw the seller.

Uh-huh.

And got him to
come down 4,000.

But that still
leaves 1,000.

I know.

So and neither of these
guys would budge,

so in order to
close this thing,

I kick in 1,000
from my commission.

That was smart.

Then I spent the rest
on a round-trip ticket
to come see you.

That was dumb!

It's the first
good money you've made

and what do you
do with it?
Blow it!

And what do you think
I should've done?

A hundred things.

Used it to rent
your own apartment

or make a down payment
on a decent car

or just
put it in the bank
and let it collect interest.

I thought
coming to see you
was more important.

But I'm gonna be home
in a couple of days.
Couldn't you wait?

No.
Randy.

Look.

If you did this
to impress me
so I'd marry you,

then you've wasted
your money,

because it only proves
how immature and
irresponsible you are.

You know,
you're getting
real good at it.

Good at what?
Sounding like her.

Maybe you're right.
You know?

Maybe it was
a dumb thing to do.

But, I mean,
how many times
do you get to

show the person you love
just how much you really
love them?

Randy?

Not often enough.

Dr. Sullivan, pick up on 241.

Well,
your pulse is fine.

Good, good.

Sorry to do it
this way, Jim,

but there's no point
in purging you
when you're drunk.

You might choke
in your own vomit.

We're all clear,
are we?

Of everything
I've ever eaten
in my entire life.

You'll be fine now,
Your Excellency.

Uh, how's
Father O'Hannon?

Oh, he'll be fine, too.

Only there's something
not quite right about
all this.

I've known James
O'Hannon all my life
and he's not a drinker.

Oh, he might have
one too many now and again
like the rest of us,

but you never
see him this way.

Has something
upset him?

I think so, yes.

Oh, that explains it.

He knows his mushrooms
better than anybody
in the county.

I've had them myself.
They're delicious.

Don't blame
yourself, James.

It could happen
to anyone.

I still don't
see how it's possible!

Ah, now don't speak.
The doctor said not
to speak if it hurts.

Well, it's not my throat
that's causing me pain.

Well, we're gonna
be in Dublin
for three more days.

Why don't you
go see her?

And confess my
sin of omission?

Oh, it's not a confession
you owe her, James.

You owe her
a full explanation.

I owe her
a great deal more,
after all she's given me.

But Agatha's
proud and stubborn,
the same as I am.

It's the Irish in us.

She's not
about to dismiss
a grievance lightly.

Why don't you do it
for your sake
as well as for hers?

Well, now, look, Bishop.

Would you care to come in
and warm yourself up
with a little tea?

No, no,
I've got to get back.

I was
supposed to have
dinner with the tour.

Are you gonna
be all right?

Well, I expect my stomach
will heal itself quicker
than my heart.

Goodbye, Dick.

Goodbye, James.

Oh, and, uh,
thanks for the lunch.

Lady Wellington.

James Joyce
always thought of the
River Liffey as a woman.

Then she must know
how I feel.

I'm sorry if it hasn't been
a happy trip for you,
Miss McGee.

When I left Staggerford,
I didn't care if I ever
saw it again.

All I can think about
now is going back.

Is it because of
Father O'Hannon?

How did you know
about him?

Janet told me.
Don't blame her.

When you left the
hotel so suddenly,
I pulled rank.

I demanded to know
what was going on.

What right
did you have?

What business
is it of yours?

If I overstepped
the bounds of privacy,
I apologize.

You most certainly have!

But it's only because
I care about you.

Well, why should
you care about me?

I abhor what you've
done to the Church.

What you're planning
to do to St. Isidore's.

Church matters aside,
I still consider you
a friend, a dear friend.

And I'm damned if
I'm going to let anybody
take advantage of you.

Well, you'll forgive
me for saying so,

but you'll be damned
for a lot before that.

Perhaps, but
when I learned that
you had been deceived,

and by a priest,
no less,

I felt it was my
duty to intervene.

I was even prepared
to let him have it
in a most ungodly way.

But after I met him
and then I listened to
what he had to say...

You met him?
Yes, well, we spent
yesterday together.

Huh, quite a memorable
experience.

Well, spare me
the blow-by-blow.

Miss McGee,
he is a good man.

And he is extremely
distressed by the pain
he's caused you.

Well, so he should be!

Yeah, he said
you'd say that.

Yeah, well,
he knows me very well.

Well, he said that, too.

Well, there's no point in
discussing it any further.

Miss McGee,
aren't you being
a little harsh?

Harsh?
After all you
and he have shared?

Which I never
would have done
had I known that he...

He was a priest?

That's exactly why
he didn't tell you.

Miss McGee,
are you really going
to expel James O'Hannon

because he failed
one test?

What are you asking
me to do now?

Give up my belief
in right and wrong?

Is this the next
modernization of
Church teaching?

Well, I won't. I can't.

Because if I gave that up,
I'll have nothing left.

Miss McGee!

You'll never guess
who's here.

Miss McGee.

Hello, Mr. Meers.

Aren't you surprised
to see him?

At this point, I doubt that
anything would surprise me,

although I will say
that your presence here
is very unexpected.

Can you believe
that Randy spent
his entire...

Well, almost his
entire commission just
to come here to see me?

You won't have much time
to see the sights.

Then we'll just
have to come back
for our honeymoon.

Good night then.

Ah, Miss McGee,
there was a priest here

earlier this evening
looking for you.

If Father O'Hannon
stops by again,

would you kindly
tell him that
I'm not in?

Oh.

Maybe he came
to apologize.

Well, then he's
five years too late.

Miss McGee,

you know, you're not
being very fair to him

and you weren't very
nice to Randy just now.

Well, if you ask me,
what he did was impetuous,

bordering on
downright foolish.

Well, no one has asked you
and you've got no right
calling Randy a fool.

Kindly lower your voice
when you address me.

I'm not surprised
that you're taken in by
some grandstand gesture.

In many ways,
you're very young.

It has always
been your nature to give
more credit than what is due.

And yours has always
been to give less.

Even in school, when
a grade was on the line,

you always
gave the lower one.

To make you
work harder!

Would you rather
have had it easier?

I wasn't thinking of me.
I was thinking of you.
Always expecting so much.

You're bound to
be disappointed.

Well, I can't help it.
It's my nature.

Well, I'm glad it's not mine,
because nobody's perfect,
Miss McGee.

Not me, not Randy,
not Father O'Hannon,
not even you.

Look, if you don't mind,
I've had a very
exhausting day.

You know, you used
to teach us in class

that God was love
and that we should
try to be like Him.

Well, if God
can be forgiving,
then why can't you?

May I help you?

I'm looking for
Father O'Hannon.

Father O'Hannon isn't here,
I'm afraid.

Well, do you know
where I might find him?

That's what
we'd all like to know.

He hasn't done Mass or
confessions for two days.

Well, he must have told
someone where he was going.

Not a word.
Seems as though
he's disappeared.

Disappeared?

You stupping down
on that stool, Patty,
or am I getting taller?

I doubt that.

Get out of that.
Here's your tea
then, Jim.

Well, thanks, Matty.

You sure you wouldn't
like something stronger?

Drop of whiskey?

I've had enough whiskey
in the last few days
to pickle a weaker man.

No, the tea'll
do me fine.

Come on, Jim.
What is it?

You've been
sitting here
for two days now.

And I'll sit here
till doomsday
if I like,

or at least as long
as it says O'Hannon
above the door.

And now,
if you'll excuse me,

I really would
like to be left alone.

Greta Garbo.

You've got Mother's
pigheadedness.
That's for sure.

Well, after all
these years, I finally
got to O'Hannon's pub.

Agatha!

How did you
find your way
to Dunbridge?

Well, one thing
teachers know is how to
read a bus schedule. May I?

Uh, but, of course! Yes!

Uh, Matty! Matty!

But who told you
I was here?

You did.
You told me yourself
that this is where you come

when you need to
find some solace.

Oh, and this must be
your baby brother, Matt.

You look so much alike.

How's your
rheumatism, Matt?

Kind of been
acting up a little.

Oh, this is Miss McGee,
Matty, from America.

Hello.
Hello.

Would you care
for some tea, Agatha?

Some stout, I think.

Well, now don't
look at me like that.

You don't know
everything about me,
you know.

No, I do let my hair
down once in a while.

Even if it's
just to wash it.

Well, you heard
the lady, Matty.
A stout!

Right away.

So, James,
I hear you've met
my nemesis, the Bishop.

Tell me.
What did you think of him?

Well, as you said,
he's a hard man
not to like.

Well, he felt
the same way
about you.

Agatha, I've so much
to say to you.

I know, James.

If it was a letter,
I could pour my heart out.

There's no stopping me
when I get a pen in my hand.

But looking at you
sitting there now

with all that pain
in your eyes,

pain that I put there,

there are no
words to express
how sorry I am.

For being
Father O'Hannon?

For not telling you.

You see, if only...

Good health.
Oh, thank you, Matt.

If only there was some way
I could make you understand.

But it would all sound
like the sorry excuses
of some pitiful, old man.

Well, I won't deny
that I'm disappointed.

Or that I'm very hurt.

I don't believe I've ever
been so hurt by anyone
in my life.

Why didn't you tell me?

I meant to, at first.
You must believe that.

But when your letters
started arriving

like they did
from out of the blue,
invading my solitude,

I felt reborn.
Resurrected.

Oh, how could I risk losing
what I longed for?

I mean, at last,
someone I could
open up to.

Someone who could see me
for who I truly am.

Not just
Father O'Hannon,
but dear James.

But you're not
dear James.

Yes, I am!
I'll always be
dear James to you.

But it would
only be a lie.

It would be a lie
if I were to deny it.

You see,
I love you, Agatha.

Strike me down for blasphemy
and banish me to hell,
but it's true.

I knew it from
your penmanship.

The clean line,
the elegant loops.

I knew it from
every tidbit you'd share
with me about Staggerford.

You'd make me chuckle
and yearn to be there.

And I knew it when
I first saw you here.

As splendid a woman
as I could've imagined.

James, are you crying?

No, my tears,

they are self-pity,
that's all.

I've been a priest
too long to know

that people only cry over
what they've lost

and I'm no exception.

I'm crying over
what we had

and what I no
longer deserve.

James?

James?

Oh, James.

I understand how much
our letters meant to you,

but they meant
as much to me.

It didn't matter that
my life was as cold
as a Minnesota winter,

because you were
always there
to come home to.

To cheer
and comfort me.

To give my heart
a little kick.

To remind me
that I wasn't alone.

Your letters were
the only thing

that ever came up
to my expectations.

You made me feel loved.

It's not the sort of
love you dreamed of.

Or the sort of love
I would have wanted
to give you

if my life had
been different.

But it's yours, Agatha.

That is,
if you still want it.

I never thought
it would be like this.

Is what I've done a sin?

I can't answer
that, James.

Only your conscience
knows your sins.

But over the last five years,
I've come to think of you
as my conscience.

Oh, Lord help us!

Do you think you can
ever forgive me?

Well, forgiving has
never been one of
my skills.

I've never been
very good at it.

But I'll try.

Body of Christ.
Amen.

Body of Christ.
Amen.

Body of Christ.
Amen.

Body of Christ.

Amen.

Body of Christ.
Amen.

Don't sleep,
don't sleep.

You'll fall asleep
immediately when
you get home.

It looks like Lillian
got what she came for.

Ah, I wish I could
do that on a plane.

It's always
sad to leave.

Hmm. But nice
to get home.

I look forward to getting
back to my old routine
and my old shoes.

So how was your
hunting expedition?

Did you manage to bag
any young seminarians?

I'm afraid they
were all spoken for.

Now I'm short a priest
and a principal.

Well, I might be able
to help you out
on one count.

Oh?

I've been thinking
about your offer.

And if it still stands...

Of course, it does!

But I want you to
understand one thing.
I love St. Isidore's.

It's housed my children
for over 40 years

and I will oppose
your closing it
every step of the way!

I'd be disappointed
if you didn't.

Oh, by the way,

I have a message for you
from Father O'Hannon.

I don't understand it at all,
but he said that you would.

Lady Wellington gave
birth to six kittens?

Oh, that is...
Oh, it is...

Can I have
the ring, Stephen?

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

With this ring,
I wed you.

With this ring,
I wed you.

In the name of the Father...
Name of the Father...

And of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.
Amen.

What God
has joined together,

let no man
put asunder.

All right, all right,
I'm willing to compromise.

Those students who wish
to attend Mass may,

but those who don't
may be excused!

Mass, an elective?

Oh, why don't we
make believing in
God an elective?

Ah!

Those who do, may,
and those who don't,
may be excused!

You're over-simplifying
the whole thing.

Mass will continue to be
part of the curriculum
of St. Isidore's

as long as I'm principal
here and I expect to
remain a long time.

Now, unless you have
something else to say,
I suggest...

Only to say
how lovely you look!

Making my life miserable
must agree with you.

Get out of my office.

Dear James. I just had my weekly run-in with Bishop Baker.

I'm pleased to report St. Isidore's is still standing.

Do you know that Brueghel that you're so fond of?

The one we looked at together?

I just came across it in an art text book for our art history class.

And you know, for the first time,

I can see what excited you.

As you said, it's full of life.

There's a chill in the air. Winter's on the way, but I don't mind.

I like to see an old season making way for the new.

And speaking of new, did I mention I'm going to be a godmother again?

Janet and Randy are expecting.

Soon I'll have another child, along with my 1,200 others.

Write and tell me your news, James.

Did you manage to raise enough money to repair the rectory roof?

I look forward to hearing from you.

With love, Agatha.