Original subtitles

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

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

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

- Just for yourself. - Aunt Juley!

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

I don't understand.

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

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

Then Tibby got hay fever and Helen went on alone.

[ HELEN ] Paul and I are in love.

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

They do not love any longer.

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

It's been a disgusting business.

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

That lady has quite inadvertently taken my umbrella.

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

That is where we live.

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

They've taken a flat across the street.

I should like to give you something worth your acquaintance.

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

I suppose Mr. Wilcox is quite independent himself.

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

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

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

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

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

Miss Schlegel, our little outing must be another day.

[ Theme music ]

[ Cawing ]

[ Reverend conducts burial ceremony ]

Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God

of his great mercy to take unto himself

the soul of our dear sister here departed,

we therefore commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes

and dust to dust...

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

through our Lord Jesus Christ,

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

that it will be like unto his glorious body,

according to the mighty working,

whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.

Mr. Wilcox, I'm so dreadfully sorry.

Miss Schlegel, you are very good to come.

Very good.

[ Music plays ]

[ Train rumbling ]

[ Rattle of crockery ]

[ Knock at door ]

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

- Was breakfast alright? - Yes, thanks.

Charles says, do you want The Times?

No, I'll read it later.

Ring if you want anything, Father, will you?

I've all I want.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Father's eaten nothing.

I don't understand.

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

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

- Yes, yes. - Sealed inside.

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

Miss Schlegel?

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

She visited your mother at the nursing home.

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

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

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

to have Howards End."

What?

[ Clears throat ] No date. No signature.

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

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

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

Give it her, Charles.

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

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

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

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

You don't think Miss Schlegel...

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

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

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

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

[ Sighs ]

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

The house meant so much to her.

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

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

But what about Miss Schlegel? Presumably she knows.

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

Presumably, she's expecting developments.

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

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

But she won't come.

You're all a bit hard on Miss Schlegel.

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

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

That Paul business was pretty scandalous.

I want no more of the Paul business, Charles.

Upon my soul, she is honest.

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

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

but they may have seemed the right thing to her,

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

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

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

But what about this letter?

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

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

There we are.

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

I jolly well wish she would come down here.

Charles, will you give me that newspaper?

- Here, Father. - Thank you, Evie.

[ Crackling ]

[ Pattering of rain ]

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

Tibby!

[ Rain drowns out speech ]

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

Put it on that table there.

Nancy...

We were standing the whole time on the train.

It was absolutely heaving.

Anyway, Frieda took me there.

And then after that we went to...

[ Helen continues indistinctly ]

Helen.

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

Yes. I was sorry to hear it.

I had a correspondence from her son, Charles.

He was winding up the estate and he wrote to ask

whether his mother had wanted me to have anything.

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

considering I knew her for so little.

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

but we forgot about it afterwards.

- I hope Charles took the hint. - Yes.

Well, that is to say her husband wrote on,

he thanked me for being a little kind to her.

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

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

I like Mr. Wilcox.

He's taking up his work - rubber.

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

killing black Africans in the Congo.

- Oh, Tibby! - Shut up, Tibby!

Ask your pious lecturing friends if it isn't.

Women don't understand economics.

I am sure Mr. Wilcox is not a murderer.

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

They get great gangs of natives out of the villages,

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

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

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

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

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

It is not funny, you know.

What I wanted to tell you, Helen,

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

Don't you think that's extraordinarily generous?

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

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

HELEN: I'm sure somebody died mining it.

[ Horse and carriage passes by outside ]

[ Speech drowned out by motor cars ]

[ Piano starts up ]

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

You'll never guess what.

They're moving out.

What do you think about that?

- [ Flourish ] - [ Continues playing ]

- [ Piano fades ] - [ Footsteps ]

[ Bell rings ]

[ Strikes a match ]

[ Whoosh of flame ]

What's the matter, Len?

You've not been yourself lately.

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

But...

Well, what is it?

Well, just...

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing, darling. Don't be angry.

Only...

Only it's not right we keep pretending.

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

I can't have you ask me that again.

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

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

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

But I can't keep on being worried.

When a man gives his word...

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's too closed up.

[ Door slams ]

[ Music playing ]

[ Piano playing ]

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

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

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

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

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

- Sorry. - [ Helen stops playing ]

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

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

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

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

but it's still a bit of a shock.

Good God. Where will we move?

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

Yes. Luckily, we have some money, too.

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

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

No, I'm Helen.

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

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

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

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

How do you do? I'm Miss Schlegel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to understand, without her being told twice by me.

I'm afraid I don't quite.

I say, what is all the hullabaloo?

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

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

I think perhaps, Miss Schlegel, that the explanation

rests on the other side, if you please.

But I don't understand.

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

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

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

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

Here? Your husband?

We don't know who your husband is.

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

[ TIBBY ] Yes, you have.

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

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

Aunt Juley was afraid he'd take the silver.

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

- No. - No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, please, what's become of him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodness. He won't strike you?

My Len? Put his hands on me?

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

[ Sighs ]

- How extraordinary. - Poor girl.

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

Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.

Oh, Helen.

So often I feel we live chattering away

at the edge of a great abyss.

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

But I don't want to live in it.

Is that very wicked and selfish of me?

It's better than your friends, the Wilcoxes,

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

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

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

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

Oh, I'm tired of the whole subject.

I despise proofs and I despise cant.

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

They're the only guide that matters.

Yes. I think so, too.

The personal is what's important.

Your precious Ws don't think so.

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

Dearest Meg, there we differ.

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

what they are like in a crisis.

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

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

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

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

which don't include whirlwinds in the balance sheet.

They were quite undone because the main force in the room

was invisible to them.

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

didn't you?

Yes.

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

- Yes. - This passage is deuced difficult.

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

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

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

Oh, but you must go, Tibby.

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

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

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

You must work. It's a universal impulse.

I thought you were opposed to cant and principles and positions

and cared only for feelings and personal relations?

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

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

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

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

I'm sorry.

That woman upset me, she really did.

And the letter.

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

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

and turned into another block of flats like Wickham Mansions.

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

even if they do own the freehold of Wickham.

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

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

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

Please, don't make me quarrel.

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

[ Tibby plays softly ]

[ Bell rings ]

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

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

Annie, we'll be three for tea.

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

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

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

And I want to make him feel at home.

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

and have nearly forgotten the entire incident.

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

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

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

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

- Please be quiet. - [ Knock at door ]

- Yes? - Good afternoon.

Good afternoon.

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

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

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

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

We always go to the Fifth when they play it,

but I do remember stealing your umbrella.

Oh, quite inadvertently.

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

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

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

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

No, thank you. I should like to explain.

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

I, I don't like to impose.

BOTH: Oh, please.

Thanks. I should be very happy to.

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

- After you. - Thank you.

[ Door closes ]

I still don't understand.

I went walking.

That's all.

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

HELEN: Did you?

Yes.

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

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

Why should she think that?

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

Why did you never tell her about your adventure,

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

Why not?

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

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

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

And all this time you were only walking?

Yes.

But how marvelous.

Was it?

Of course it was.

Where did you start from? Tell us more.

I...

Well, I took the Underground to Wimbledon

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

It was gas lamps for...

hours.

I did get into the woods presently and...

being out was the great thing.

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

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

It got too dark to see my watch.

I rather fancy it was those North Downs

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

got the first train I could back to London.

- Was the dawn wonderful? - No.

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

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

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

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

Looking back, it...

it wasn't what you'd call enjoyment.

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

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

There one goes, one day after day.

Same old game, same up and down to town

until you forget there is any other game.

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

- I should just think you would. - Yes.

Have you ever read Richard Jefferies?

Yes.

Or George Borrow's Stonehenge?

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

Well...

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

Thank you for the tea. Um...

I must be going.

Well, why must you go?

You'll come another time, I hope?

[ Music plays ]

[ Motor car outside ]

[ Hooves and footsteps ]

[ Seagulls cry, ship's horn blows ]

- I say, Helen... - Well?

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

I don't know.

Do you think we might try to?

How do you do?

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

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

We're just admiring the sunlight on the water.

[ Ship's horn blows ]

Now, tell me all your news.

Oh, we've had a splendid afternoon.

We belong to a club that reads papers.

There's a discussion after. Today was on

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

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

Sounds the most original entertainment.

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

She's taken to breeding Aberdeen terriers.

We pretend we're improving ourselves, you see.

Doubtless, you find it wasteful.

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

It doesn't matter much on what subject.

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

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

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

Oh, I don't know about that.

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

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

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

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

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

The Porphyrion Fire Insurance Company.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that my only contribution will be to let your young friend

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

Why?

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

being more or less behind the scenes,

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

Porphyrion is a bad, bad concern.

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

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

The Tariff Ring is an association of insurance companies.

I thought an insurance company never smashed.

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

You're thinking of re-insurance.

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

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

Oh, no, no.

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

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

We've just taken a place in Ducie Street,

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

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

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

Oh. We shall.

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

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

existing without you.

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

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

No, but none of you are there.

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

Charles and his wife live very near the old place.

I forget whether you've been up there.

- At the house, never. - Oh.

Well...

Well, do remind Evie to come and see us.

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

Everyone moving.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

[ Music plays ]

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

at Wickham Place tomorrow at tea-time?

We should be so glad to see you.

Your friend, Helen Schlegel.

How do you like your work?

My work?

- Yes. - Oh, well enough.

Your company is the Porphyrion, isn't it?

Yes, that's so.

We were told the Porphyrion's no go.

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

I see.

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

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

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

He did not advise us to say so.

You can tell your friend he's quite wrong.

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

And he advised you to clear out of it.

He's made quite a lot of money.

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Wilcox and Miss Wilcox.

- Hello. - [ Yapping ]

Hello!

- [ Chuckles ] - Hello.

We brought the little fellows round.

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

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

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

- Must you really? - Come again.

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

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

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

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

Good day.

Helen, go after him.

Ought she to?

Can I help you now?

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

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

Oh! [ Chuckles ]

Oh!

[ Mr. Wilcox chuckles ]

Where are you going?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- What are you looking for? - My hat.

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

Yes, Miss.

When you asked me to tea, I...

Yes.

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

We did not have you here out of charity,

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

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

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

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

in your easy way.

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

as they do to you.

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

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

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

That's not mine.

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

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

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

You do. You think I'm superficial

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

or... or, erm...

- Ruskin. - Ruskin. Yes. Or Dostoevsky.

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

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

Does anybody like him? All that eternal...

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

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

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

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

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

Look, I will not. Go away, Tibby.

- We have met before. - Have we?

I can't remember.

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

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

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

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

I'm sure I couldn't say.

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

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

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

- Nancy! - I have no fixed opinion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not a businessman like your friend.

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

But even a clerk...

No, it's useless.

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

Oh, Annie, whatever has been keeping you?

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

Oh, it's alright.

Miss Schlegel,

all I can do is go.

Thank you for trying to help me.

Goodbye.

[ Front door opens and closes ]

But who was he?

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

We warn him and look.

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

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

- Careful? - You're too kind.

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

and then they impose on you.

When I came in and saw that young man,

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

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

or they take advantage. Sad but true.

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

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

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

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

something to relieve life's daily grey.

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

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

- Evie. - Where? I mean, why?

This young man has his own life.

What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful one

or, as you call it, grey?

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

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

A wife, children, snug little home.

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

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

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

What do you know about London?

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

Well, the tide is higher and the sunlight more pleasant

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

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

Result - higher tides for shipping.

More sunlight on the water.

Yes, I see.

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

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

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

which means millions of pounds a year in reduced shipping costs

for every sort of business under the sun?

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

All I can say is that we like this young man

and we see something fine in him.

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

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

What about your brother? What does he say?

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

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

Well... [ Speaks quietly ]

- [ Footsteps approach ] - Helen?

Why are you all alone?

Yes. He's been gone some time.

But what happened?

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

I like him so much.

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

Mr. W's much concerned and slightly titillated.

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

You hate him?

I thought him rather splendid.

Only because you dissect him.

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

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

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

Come play with puppies.

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

They don't understand him.

[ Music plays ]

[ Music drowns out speech ]

[ Front door shuts ]

[ Footsteps approach ]

- [ Sighs ] - Hello.

Where have you been?

BOTH: Looking at houses.

I do wish you'd find something.

I can't bear to look at any more.

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

What are we going to do with all this furniture?

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

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

[ Doorbell rings ]

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

with her fiance Mr. Cahill.

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

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

Perhaps I misjudged her.

She's so excessively athletic.

Perhaps it blocks out her other good qualities.

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

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

Do you think so?

It would save us the trouble of finding a house.

Yes, that's true.

Will you go?

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

Did I tell you Father might be at the party?

Yes. There he is.

I thought I'd get round if I could.

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

Always secure a table first.

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

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

Miss Schlegel, come round my side.

[ Conversation is drowned out by music ]

How is your discussion society getting on?

- Any new utopias? - No.

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

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

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

We must find a new home in May.

Someone has to find it. I can't.

Percy, do you know of anything?

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

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

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

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

- Gruyere, please. - Better have Stilton.

- Evie? - Stilton, please.

Mr. Cahill?

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

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

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

How about a nice bit of Altenburger Ziegenkase?

- I beg your pardon? - Altenburger Ziegenkase.

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

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

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

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

I'll have the Gruyere.

Thank you, sir.

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

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

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

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

and sweep away the huntsmen and all show folk

and the entire wedding party into oblivion.

I should be sorry to miss that.

They say it's very realistic.

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

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

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

You see? See how she chafes me?

How's your house?

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

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

Why "Of course"?

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

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

It's let for three years.

Can't you help us, Mr. Wilcox?

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you ever so much, Mr. Wilcox.

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

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

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

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

- What? - [ Chuckles ]

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

Not really? I meant that as a joke.

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

She really was an extraordinary person.

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

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

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

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

- Are you mad? - Yes.

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

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

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

It does, rather.

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

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

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

Alright, then.

[ General chatter ]

[ WOMAN ] How lovely to meet you.

This is ghastly.

What do you think of it, Mr. Wilcox?

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

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

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

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

Auras and astral planes?

That's too big a question.

No, it isn't.

Why's that?

Because although I don't believe in auras

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

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

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

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

I'm a little out of my depth.

Do you talk rather like this to your office boy?

I talk the same to everyone, or try to.

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

We can doubtless hit upon some medium of exchange

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

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

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

Our friends at Chelsea don't see this.

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

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

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

that if wealth were divided equally,

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

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

My socialists do. Yours mayn't.

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

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

Have you ever heard such a monstrous combination of words?

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

I mean, one should try new things occasionally.

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

Yes, it's quite good.

[ Piano music ]

Dear Miss Schlegel...

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

Oh, Margaret, do come. London is so unhealthy

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

He's announced an important change in his plans.

- Who? BOTH: Mr. Wilcox.

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

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

They are not.

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

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

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

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

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

Then I can go over the house with him.

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

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

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

Marry? Margaret is engaged to marry?

Why shouldn't I, if he asks?

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

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

There's nothing to tell, Aunt Juley.

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

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

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

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

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

I'm sorry.

But what have I said?

Oh, honestly, Aunt Juley, nothing.

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

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

You don't.

Now, children, what's it to be?

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

Tibby, which?

Especially want to pin you both.

- Say no. - Say yes.

That's decided, then.

♪