My dearest Cynthia, as I watch the coast of England slip away,
I realise how much of my heart I have left behind in your dear care.
Your loving acceptance makes me the most fortunate of men.
I will carry the memory of that kiss with me to lighten the depths of Africa.
What a thing to do, write a letter before he was fairly embarked.
Of course, he has nothing to say except the usual silliness.
Cynthia, you do love Roger, don't you?
Don't you think I've given proof of it?
Oh, well, if you do look at me like that.
I don't think I have the gift for loving as some people do.
I've never felt carried off my feet by love for anyone, not even you,
- and you know I love you... - Don't! I should never have asked you!
One might think you cared for him yourself.
I do care for him. I... I love him as a sister.
I think he is a prince amongst men.
Really?
Even you must acknowledge that he's plain and awkward,
and you know I like pretty things and pretty people.
Cynthia, I won't talk to you about him.
He shan't be run down by you, even in jest.
Oh, well, we shan't talk about him, then.
Perhaps we shan't ever be married after all.
I mean, two years is a long time.
He might change his mind or I might,
or someone else might come along and say I'm engaged to him.
What should you say to that?
Leave it, Agnes.
Come, my dear.
Be comfortable for once, take your tea sitting down.
Oh, my dear one.
Now, I have a great piece of news to tell you.
Oh, I thought there was something on hand. Now for it.
Well, Roger Hamley called to see us on the day he left,
proposed to Cynthia and was accepted.
- Roger Hamley proposed to Cynthia? - Why should he not?
Well, only that not two weeks ago I gave my assurances to the Squire
that there was nothing of that sort between his sons and either of the girls.
Well, what's done is done. It'll have to be a long engagement.
Yes, I think perhaps it will... But then again, perhaps it won't.
A little bird did tell me that Osborne Hamley's life is not so very secure,
then what will Roger be?
Heir to the estate.
Oh, why...?
Robert, whatever's the matter?
Who told you that about Osborne?
Who told you, I say?!
Why? Can you deny it? Is it not the truth?
I ask again! Who told you that Osborne's life was in any more danger than yours or mine?
Don't speak in that frightening way.
I... I mean my life's not in danger... I'm sure.
Oh, Robert... Little bits of glass can be so dangerous.
Never mind the glass! Who told you anything about Osborne's state of health?
If you will know it was you - you yourself or Dr Nicholls.
I never spoke to you on the subject, and I don't believe Nicholls did.
You'd better tell me at once what you're alluding to.
I wish I'd never got married again. I never thought you could be so cruel.
And you shouldn't speak your medical secrets so loud if you don't want anyone to hear them.
I only went into the storeroom for a jar of preserves.
It was certainly for no pleasure of mine.
And you overheard our conversation?
- Just a sentence or two. - What where they?
Dr Nicholls said, "If he's got aneurysm of the aorta, then his days are numbered".
And you replied, "I hope I'm mistaken, but it seems he has very clear symptoms".
I see. And may I ask how you remember so exactly the name of the disease?
Because I - don't get angry, please, I see no harm in what I did -
I went into your surgery and looked it up.
I mean, why should I not...?
Well, I suppose, as one brews one must bake.
I don't know what you mean.
So this is why you've changed your conduct towards Roger.
Yes, I noticed you've been more civil to him of late.
Well, if you mean I like him more than Osborne, you're very much mistaken.
It's just that as Roger was the younger son, I thought it best to discourage him.
But now you consider him the proximate heir to the estate, you've made him more welcome.
Well, I don't know what you mean by "proximate".
Go into the surgery and look it up!
You overheard a professional conversation.
Now, don't you know that professional conversations are confidential?
That it would be the worst thing I could do
to betray secrets that I learn in the exercise of my profession and trade on them.
Yes, of course - you.
Are husband and wife not one in these respects?
I just thought that you would be glad
to see Cynthia well married and off your hands.
I don't know what to say to you.
You either can't or won't see what I mean.
But had you bothered to consult me, I could have told you
that Dr Nicholls' opinion was decidedly opposed to mine.
He thinks that Osborne is as likely as any other man to live,
to marry and to beget children.
- Oh. - Hmm.
Yes, well, let us review this misfortune, since I see
that you now consider it as such.
Well, not exactly a misfortune,
but... had I known Dr Nicholls' opinion...
Well, comfort yourself, my dear.
Roger Hamley is as fine a young man
as ever breathed... with money or without.
I only wish Molly could meet with such another.
I will try for Molly. I will indeed.
No, no, no, no. That is one thing I forbid.
I will have no trying for Molly.
Don't be angry, dear.
For a minute there, I thought you were going to lose your temper.
It would have been of no use.
Breakfast is ready, sir. No breakfast, thank you, Maria.
And I won't be back for dinner.
Miss Gibson. Looking very well indeed, if I may say so.
I was just urging upon Miss Kirkpatrick the merits of a long walk in the countryside.
Come, Molly. We shall be late.
Cynthia, I understand I am to congratulate you on your engagement to Roger Hamley.
You've won the heart of a very fine young man. I hope you'll both be very happy.
Thank you.
We had all pledged to keep it secret.
Mama included. But I'm glad that you should know it.
You've always been a very kind friend to me.
It truly is hardly an engagement, though.
He wouldn't allow me to bind myself by any promise till his return.
I hope you're worthy of him, Cynthia.
I've never known a truer or warmer heart, and I've known Roger since he was a little boy.
You're not very complimentary, are you, Mr Gibson?
Still, he finds me worthy, I suppose.
If you think so highly of him, you ought to respect his judgement of me.
Why does your father have to speak to me like that?
Cynthia, I'm afraid I must speak to the Squire about this.
I gave him my word I would if anything of the kind arose.
It was the one thing I stipulated for: Secrecy.
But why keep it secret from the family?
Surely, in any case, Roger will tell his father?
No, he won't, because I made him promise, and I think he's one to respect a promise.
Well, let's give him a chance, then, shall we?
I won't go over to the Hall until the end of the week.
He may have written and told his father by then.
So a man's promise is to override a woman's wish?
I don't see why it shouldn't.
Mr Gibson, will you please trust me when I tell you
this will cause me a great deal of distress if it gets known.
Telling the boy's father is not making it public.
I don't like this exaggerated desire for secrecy, Cynthia.
It seems to me as if something more than is apparent is concealed behind it.
Come on, Molly. Let's play that new duet I taught you.
- There's rock here. - Here. Let me help you.
- We'll need some more tiles. - How many?
Twenty should do it.
Cynthia Kirkpatrick has entered into an understanding with Roger.
Cynthia Kirkpatrick, you say?
I was hoping Roger would have told you in a letter.
That shows you have no sons.
Half these sons are mysteries to their fathers. Look at Osborne.
I've got no more idea what goes on in his head than the Man in the Moon.
I thought Roger'd be different. He's a good lad.
It's thanks to him I'm able to put these drainage works back into commission.
Hmm. Miss Kirkpatrick. Not the match I'd been hoping for.
I suppose she's no money.
About twenty pound a year at my pleasure.
Oh, well, it's good it's not Osborne.
But what family is she of?
She's none of trade, her being so poor.
Well, I understand her father was the grandson of a baronet.
That's something. But what sort of a girl is she, Gibson?
- I don't know what you mean. - Yes, you do.
You're offended with me, or you'd have answered me straight.
You know what I mean. Is she like Molly?
Sweet-tempered and sensible, and ready to do anything one asked her?
Well, she's very pretty... prettier than Molly I have to admit.
And she has very winning ways.
I'm not sure she feels things quite so keenly as Molly does.
- But all in all, I think she's one in a hundred. - Oh, well, Molly's one in a thousand.
- Hmm. - She's of no family, you see. No money either.
Otherwise, she'd make the perfect wife to either of my lads.
As there's no question of Molly in this business,
there's no need to bring her name into it, is there?
I must get off. Good day, sir.
Now, hang on, Gibson, we're old friends.
You're a fool to take offence.
Look, bring her round to the Hall for lunch.
Bring her mother and Molly and let me see the girl meself.
Thank you.
Your wife and I didn't hit it off the only time I ever saw her.
I'm not saying she was very silly, but one of us was and it wasn't me.
- Thursday suit you? - As you wish.
Got it. No, no.
You've got to hold it proper firm, but not too tight.
It's all in the wrist. You've got to get the movement right.
A sort of an arching, and then a bit of a flick.
Quick like, you see? That's right. Good, good.
We'll make a fisherman of you yet.
Try again.
Arch and flick. Arch and flick.
Ah, we got him. We got him.
He's a beauty. I'll get the net.
Ah, he's a beauty.
Look, Molly. I caught one.
Well done, lass. He's a grand'un.
There.
So, how did it go off?
They got on very well, I think.
But how could anyone not like Cynthia?
Aye, when she puts herself out to please.
Do you think that she's right for him, Molly?
Right for Roger?
She's a very charming young girl, but I don't quite understand her.
Why should she want all this secrecy?
I don't know.
I don't think I understand her either, but I do love her.
- How is Osborne? Was he there? - No, I think he had to go and see...
...do something else.
Molly, this business with Cynthia and Roger took me by surprise.
If there's anything else of this sort in the offing,
I think you'd better tell me at once.
If you mean you're afraid that Osborne thinks of me
as Roger does of Cynthia, you're quite mistaken.
Osborne and I are friends. We could never be anything more.
That's all I can tell you.
That's quite enough, little one.
That's a great relief.
- Oh, Papa. - Oh, there, there, there.
There's nothing the matter, is there?
No. Only I wish I could have you all to myself more often.
Yes, well...
Run along, now.
I'm very glad you won't be carried off by any young man just yet awhile.
Roger Hamley.
No, No, No.
Carry on.
A good pair of English legs here.
My dearest Cynthia,
it's just as well I was as strong as an ox when I set off.
This country is extraordinary and a constant challenge.
Every day new hazards and new adventures.
I'm learning the language and, more importantly,
how to survive in this wonderful land.
Miss Kirkpatrick! A letter from Africa!
He sends you his best regards.
And his compliments to you, Mama.
Where is he, Cynthia? What does he say?
Where? I didn't look exactly. Somewhere in Abyssinia.
Um, Huron? Does that make you any the wiser?
- Harar, perhaps? - Yes, I think you're right.
You are clever! Fancy knowing anything about Abyssinia.
I looked in the world atlas. I wanted to make a picture of where he was.
Is he well, Cynthia?
- Well enough. He says he has a touch of fever. - Fever?
Yes, but he thinks he'll acclimatise soon.
- But who will take care of him? - I don't think he gets much caring for.
It's pretty much sink or swim in Abyssinia. No doctors or nurses there.
Still, he has plenty of quinine with him.
- But he's on the mend now. - But what if he isn't?
Oh, no, we mustn't think that.
You must have been worrying about him.
Well, as a matter of fact, I haven't been worrying about him.
You see, I made my mind up before he went not to worry.
If anything did, well, you know, go wrong,
- it would be over before I heard of it. - Don't say that!
Moderate your tone, dear.
What Cynthia's saying is only common sense.
What is the point of worrying about what one can't help and may never happen?
He does say he's feeling better now.
What else does he say? I mean, things I may hear.
Well, lover's letters are so silly, and I think this is sillier than usual.
Er...
Here's a piece you may read.
I couldn't get on with this myself.
It's all about Aristotle and Pliny, and some beetle he's found
that proves something or another.
Yes, do take it with you if you like.
Now, I must get this hat finished before I go out.
Oh, God, let him live.
Let him live.
Even if I never set eyes on him again.
Grant he may come home safe, and be happy.
A former pupil of mine, a Mr Coxe, wants to pay us a visit, Hyacinth.
Oh?
He's relinquished the profession, I'm relieved to hear,
and has come into a great deal of money.
Oh...
It's such a pleasure to meet my husband's former pupils, Mr Coxe.
He's spoken to me so often about you.
Indeed, ma'am? Well, I was very happy here.
Um, is Miss Gibson still at home? I should very much like to...
Oh, yes. She'll be coming directly, with my own daughter, Cynthia.
Mr Coxe?
- Is it you? - Yes.
You remember me. I was so afraid you wouldn't.
Well, you're so much grown.
So much more, um, well, I suppose I mustn't say what I was going to.
This is Miss Kirkpatrick, my step-sister.
Mr Coxe.
How do you do?
How do you do, Mr Coxe?
Mr Gibson, I dare say you'll be surprised, sir, at what I want to say,
but I think it the part of an honourable man,
as you said yourself, sir, a year or two ago,
to speak to the father first.
And as you, sir, stand in the place of a father to Miss Kirkpatrick,
I should like to express my feelings, my hopes.
Miss Kirkpatrick...?
I do assure you, sir, that I came here with a heart
as faithful to your daughter as ever beat in a man's breast.
But it soon became clear that her manner towards me,
though friendly, was in no way...
well, it was, wasn't...
...while Miss Kirkpatrick, um...
While Miss Kirkpatrick?
Er, I was only going to say, sir,
I think I may venture to hope that Miss Kirkpatrick welcomes my attentions.
I don't believe Miss Kirkpatrick could ever have meant to encourage you.
I think, sir, if you could have seen her...
At any rate, you won't mind me taking my chance and speaking to her?
No, but if you'll take my advice, you'll spare yourself the pain of a refusal.
I think I ought to tell you her affections are otherwise engaged.
I cannot believe that. No. There must be some mistake.
I don't see how she could've misunderstood my meaning.
Perhaps her affections may have been engaged before,
but isn't it possible she might come to prefer another?
By "another" you mean yourself, I suppose?
I can believe in such inconstancy,
but I'm very sorry to think Miss Kirkpatrick could be guilty.
But you will allow me to ask for her hand, sir?
Certainly, my poor fella.
If you must.
Oh, thank you, sir.
Thank you. God bless you for a kind friend.
Um, Miss Kirkpatrick.
I cannot tell you what pleasure these last few days have given me.
Dearest Cynthia, please tell me you return my affections and consent to be my wife.
Mr Coxe! You must stand up at once.
I'm engaged to marry someone else.
Molly, you must never trifle with the love of an honest man.
You don't know what pain you may give.
Molly, you'll never guess.
Oh.
Mr Coxe asked me to give you both his kind regards.
I believe he's leaving Hollingford this afternoon.
I trust this will never occur again, Cynthia.
What am I to think of a young woman in your position,
engaged and yet accepting the overtures of another man?
Do you realise what unneccesary pain
you have given that young man by your thoughtless behaviour?
I call it thoughtless, I could call it something worse.
Please, Mr Gibson. Hear my side before you speak so severely to me.
I... I didn't mean to flirt,
I only meant to be agreeable, and I can't help doing that, can I?
And that goose, Mr Coxe, imagined I was encouraging him.
Do you mean you weren't aware he was falling in love with you?
I suppose, to speak truly, I did think once or twice he might be,
but I do hate throwing cold water on people,
and I never imagined he could take it into his silly head
to imagine himself seriously in love and make such a fuss.
You seem to have been aware of his silliness.
You should have considered what it might and has led to.
Well, perhaps. I dare say I'm all wrong and he's all right.
But, really, it seems to me...
In any case, I'm not finally engaged.
- Roger wouldn't allow it. - Nonsense!
I've said all that I mean to say.
I'm willing to believe you were only thoughtless, but don't let it happen again.
Well, "Not proven, but we recommend the prisoner not to do it again".
It's pretty much that, isn't it, Molly?
Cynthia, Cynthia.
I do believe your father might make a good woman of me yet,
if he'd only take the pains and was not quite so severe.
I was afraid poor Mr Coxe was becoming very fond of you.
I wish I had said something now.
It wouldn't have made any difference.
I... I knew he liked me.
I... I like to be liked,
but he shouldn't have carried it too far.
I shall hate red-haired people for the rest of my life.
I knew he came here to propose to you.
You were disagreeable, so I took pity on him.
- Shall you tell Roger about it? - Oh, no.
Well, I don't know.
Perhaps, if we're ever married.
I have a feeling I'll never marry him. I don't know why.
Best not tell him all my secrets. Suppose he knew them, and it never came off.
I think it would break his heart.
Molly, there's no need to be so serious.
It's not in my nature to go into ecstacies.
I don't think I shall ever be in love.
But I'm glad he loves me.
I like his face 10,000 times more than Mr Preston's.
Mr Preston...?
What should you think of me if I married him after all?
Married Mr Preston?
Well, has he ever asked you?
More unlikely things have happened.
Have you never heard of...
strong wills mesmerising weaker ones until they can't even think for themselves?
Cynthia.
Well...
He's not a man to be easily thrown off.
Oh, I wish Roger were rich
and could marry me at once and carry me away from that man.
Cynthia, what is this all about?
Money matters are at the root of it.
Horrid poverty.
Oh, do let's talk about something else.
You all make me feel so...
I've never lived with good people before. Don't quite know how to behave.
I don't believe that's true, nor does Roger.
He must think I'm good, he's in love with me.
Yes, he's in love with you!
And he, he depends upon you, so you should...
you should try to deserve him!
It is sundown, Cynthia.
They are singing outside my tent.
The men say it's about a chap who pines for a girl in a distant land.
They are teasing me, of course.
They often do.
Thank Molly for her letter.
Tell her I had a sighting today of a glorious lizard,
and have found more of the great black bugs I told her about,
a species of reduvias.
She'll know which I mean.
The Abyssinian wilds would not suit you, dearest Cynthia,
but your love sustains me in this savage land.
Hmm.
Well.
Yes.
I think they might have remembered I'm a generation closer to them than she is.
But no one thinks about family affection nowadays, do they?
Hmm.
If you want us to sympathise, Hyacinth, you'll have to tell us what the matter is.
I dare say it was meant as a kind attention.
I just think he should have asked me before Cynthia.
And who is he?
And what is meant for "a kind attention"?
Mr Kirkpatrick, to be sure,
my brother-in-law, Cynthia's uncle.
He wants Cynthia to stay with them in London.
But he hasn't even mentioned you or me.
I think he should have asked us first, that's all.
As I couldn't possibly go, it makes little difference to me.
No, but I could have gone.
At any rate, he could have paid me the compliment.
I've a great mind not to let her go.
Well, I can't go in any case, Mama.
I've nothing to wear. My gowns are so shabby,
and I remember my aunt was very particular about dress.
Please write at once and refuse it.
Nonsense, child. Nothing to wear?
What's happened to all your money?
You've twenty pounds a year, thanks to Mr Gibson.
However it's come about, I've no money to spend.
You couldn't have spent more than ten pounds, so where's it gone?
Mama - it may sound cross -
as I didn't ask for and don't want any more than my allowance,
I shan't answer questions as to what I do with it.
Well, I don't understand that at all, do you, Molly?
No, I know she's not at all extravagant.
She may have given it away to someone who wants it.
It is very clear she has neither the dress nor the money for this London trip,
and she doesn't want any further enquiries into the subject.
She likes mysteries, in fact, I detest them.
But as I think it desirable she keep up her friendship with her father's family,
I will gladly give her ten pounds.
What a generous man you are, Mr Gibson,
to my poor fatherless daughter.
I think I should accompany her and stay for a day or two, you know.
Lady Cumnor's in town and not at all in good health,
and it would ease my spirits to see her and offer her what comfort I can.
Well, that's if you can bear to fend for yourselves just for a day or two?
Oh, no, we shouldn't mind at all, should we, Papa, looking after ourselves?
No, no, no, no, no.
We shall bear it as best we can, my dear.
# I do think Mr Gibson is the kindest man I know.
# Tiddle-iddle iddle iddle iddle pom-pom to London I shall go. #
Oh, Molly. You don't think it wicked and flighty of me to want to go to London?
- On account of Roger and everything? - No, of course you should go.
Hooray!
# Oh, I do think Mr Gibson is the kindest man I know... #
Upon my word. I hope you're not both going crazy. What's all this about, I pray?
I'm just glad we're going to London, Mama.
You might express your happiness in a more ladylike manner, darling.
Osborne Hamley is in the consulting room with Mr Gibson.
I don't know what he'd think if he heard you.
How ill that poor young man looks.
Your father thinks it may not be very grievous after all,
but... I don't think he has long to live.
Oh, but what will happen if he dies?
Well, it would be sad, of course,
and we'd all feel it very much, I've no doubt.
But we mustn't forget the living, Molly.
If the worst were to happen,
then our own dear Roger would do everything in his power to step into Osborne's place.
And Cynthia's marriage need not be so long delayed.
Mama, how can you speak of Osborne's death and my marriage in the same breath?
Well, it's a very natural thought, dear.
A young man strikes us all as looking very ill,
and I'm sorry for it, but illness often leads to death.
I'm sure you'd agree with me. So what's the harm in saying so?
And then Molly asks what happens if he dies and I try to answer her.
I don't want to talk about death any more than anyone else,
but one has to look forward to the consequences.
I think we're commanded to do so somewhere.
Aren't we?
In the Bible, or in the prayer book?
Do you look forward to the consequences of my death?
Cynthia, you really are the most unfeeling girl I've ever met.
Oh, I was hoping to speak to him.
- What about, Goosey? - Oh, nothing in particular.
Is he really very ill?
It's one of those cases where it's not possible to be certain,
but I am anxious about him, yes.
But I haven't told him that, and nor should you.
But if he is really in danger, he'd want to arrange his affairs, wouldn't he?
I've considered that, but the fear and anxiety could itself precipitate a crisis.
Surely he has the right to know?
No. Best to leave him in ignorance and hope for a complete recovery.
Now, I say this in absolute confidence, Molly, because I trust you completely.
You at any rate know how to keep your counsel.
Don't get over-anxious about Osborne.
He may be well yet.
Ah, there you are.
Funny old sort of day. Neither one thing nor the other.
I had a letter from Roger.
He's very well. Had a good Christmas.
Look here, Osborne.
Do you know anything about Roger's engagement?
Pretty girl, very pretty.
- Not one I'd have chosen. - Miss Kirkpatrick?
Aye, that's the one.
I wonder he never told me.
Well, he... he never told me either.
Gibson came over and made a clean breast of it, like a man of honour.
Well, I let it go on, it was only Roger.
Mind you, if it had been you, I'd have broken with Gibson
and every mother's son of 'em, so I told Gibson.
Pardon me, Father. I claim the right to choose my own wife with no one's interference.
Do you? Then you'll keep your wife
with no one's interference, for you won't get a penny from me
unless you marry to please me a little, as well as yourself a great deal.
That's all I ask.
She can be pretty or not, and I don't mind if she's a bit older than you,
but she must be well-born,
and the more money she brings to the old place the better.
I say again, Father, I must choose my wife myself, and I won't be dictated to,
even by you, sir.
Well, if I'm not to be father, thou shan't be son.
Go against me on this and there'll be the devil to pay. I mean it.
You're the only marriageable one left in the market,
and I want to hoist the old family up again.
Don't go against me, Osborne.
It really will break my heart if you do.
Father, don't say that. I will do anything to oblige you, anything, except...
Except the one thing I've set my heart on you doing!
Oh, God.
What am I going to do?
Bye.
Now, Papa, I shall have you to myself for a whole week.
- You'll have to be very obedient. - Oh, shall I, indeed?!
Well, now, here's a rare sight.
Mr Gibson and his daughter walking together at midday.
Ladies. We've just seen my wife and her daughter off to London.
Mrs Gibson has gone up for the week.
- Only a week! - I remember when it was a three-day journey.
She'd scarce have time to go and come back.
Will it be lonely, Molly, without your companion?
Yes, I shall miss her very much.
But Papa and I...
Mr Gibson, it'll be like being a widower again.
You must come and drink tea with us some evening. And Molly, too.
Yes, you must come to our house as well.
We must try and cheer you up a bit. Shall it be Tuesday?
That's very kind, but I have, er, one or two pressing cases.
I'll see what I can do. But I think I can promise for Molly.
Good day, ladies.
Oh, thank you.
Papa! How could you waste one of our evenings?
We have but six, and I wanted us to do all sorts of things, just us.
- What sort of things? - Everything that's unrefined and ungenteel.
By toil and labour, I've reached a fair height of refinement.
- And I won't be pulled down again. - Oh, yes, just for a week you will.
We'll have bread and cheese for dinner and eat it on our knees,
and we'll put our knives into our mouths until we cut ourselves,
and you shall pour your tea into a saucer.
Two letters in a week.
That's very proper, but at eleven pence ha'penny postage any more would be extravagant.
And what did Cynthia say? Is she enjoying herself?
Oh, yes, very much, I think.
She went to a dinner party, and one night, when Mama was at Lady Cumnor's,
Cynthia went to the play with her cousins.
Oh, my word. And all in one week.
I do call that dissipation. Thursday will be taken up travelling,
Friday they'll be resting, and Sunday is Sunday all over the world.
I hope she won't find Hollingford dull when she comes back.
I don't think that's likely, Sally, not now Mr Preston's moving to town.
Been seeing a great deal of Mr Preston, haven't you, Molly?
Mr Preston?
- No. What should make you think so? - Oh, a little bird told us.
What do you mean? Who told you?
Little birds don't have names, I'll think you'll find,
but this little bird was flying about in Heath Lane,
and it saw Mr Preston with a young lady - we won't say who -
walking together in a very friendly manner.
He was on horseback, because just there the path is raised...
No, perhaps Molly is in the secret, and we ought not to ask her about it.
It'll be no great secret, sister.
Miss Hornblower says Mr Preston owns to being engaged.
Well, if he is engaged, it's not to Cynthia, that's for certain.
And I do wish you'd put a stop to any such reports.
You don't know what mischief they may do.
- I do so hate that kind of chatter. - Hoity-toity.
Kindly remember I'm old enough to be your mother, Miss Molly.
Chatter. Tish.
I beg your pardon, Miss Browning...
but don't you see how bad it is to talk of such things?
Supposing one of them cared for somebody else.
And that might happen, you know. Mr Preston, for example, may be engaged to somebody else.
Well, if he is, I pity the young lady, indeed I do.
He's a great flirt,
and young ladies better not have too much to do with him.
Miss Browning, I beg you would not talk about it any more.
I have my reasons for asking.
Phoebe!
It was Molly with Mr Preston in Heath Lane.
- Goodness gracious. How do you know? - Put two and two together.
Didn't you notice how pale she went?
She said she knew for a fact Preston and Miss Kirkpatrick weren't engaged.
Perhaps not engaged, but Mrs Goodenough saw them loitering together.
Mrs Goodenough's eyes are not the best.
I'll answer for it. She saw Molly and took her for Cynthia.
Well, perhaps it wouldn't be so very bad a match, Sally.
Not as bad a match as it could be? He plays billiards, you know.
He bets at the races. Miss Hornblower said he was engaged to Miss Gregson.
Her father made enquiries, and he made her break it off.
- And she's dead since. - Oh, Sally.
Now, he might do for Cynthia. She was brought up in France,
so she might not be too particular, but he mustn't have Molly.
We must keep on the lookout. I'll be her guardian angel, in spite of herself.
I wonder how you are, dearest Cynthia.
I often picture you walking in the garden.
I had a bit of a fall, but I believe I shall soon be on the mend again.
How's Molly? Has she been to the Hall to see my father?
He's so fond of her.
I long to hear from you. The rains must have made...
...the post from England slower, I suppose.
Write soon, tell me how you are, what you're thinking and doing.
A most delightful visit.
I was so sorry to come away, but knew you'd be missing me.
- Yes, indeed. - Oh, they live in great style.
The Lord Chancellor himself could hardly do better.
Mr Kirkpatrick's career has been most successful - Queen's Counsel
and Head of Chambers, and they couldn't do enough for Cynthia.
Two new ballgowns, and if I say so myself, she had more admirers than any of her cousins.
Young Mr Henderson was quite smitten with her, I believe.
He's the most promising young man in Mr Kirkpatrick's chambers.
They're so fond of her, I don't know when she'll be back.
She had a letter from Africa I sent on. Did she say what was in it?
Yes, yes. It made her very uneasy, poor child.
She was inclined not to go to Mr Rawlson's ball that evening, but I told her
there was nothing to worry about, that he was laid up after a fall.
- He's had a fall? - Yes, but he was better by the time he wrote.
He's got a very strong constitution, hasn't he, Mr Gibson?
Aye, he has, and where he is he has need of one.
After all, it's not a formal engagement, and she could hardly say,
"A friend fell in Africa two months ago, so I can't go to the ball."
That would seem just like an affectation of sentiment.
If there's one thing I hate, it's that.
Quite.
Good morning, Miss Gibson.
Miss Kirkpatrick returns today, does she not?
- Yes. - You'll be happy to see her, I think.
Yes. Good morning.
There now, will you look at that!
You had no call for harps, Mr Sheepshanks, when you were Lord Cumnor's land agent.
Well, young Preston reckons himself to be a bit above a land agent.
A gentleman, a ladies' man, and a gambling man and all.
I wouldn't trust him any further than I could throw him.
And that's not far. Good day to you.
Poor Molly.
Oh, hello... Did you miss me?
Excuse me, can I have that box?
He's feeling much better. He's learning another new dialect,
more about beetles. I think I'll save this one up for later.
Look what they gave me, Molly.
They were so good to me.
Do you wish you were still there?
In some ways I do. There's something oppressive about Hollingford somehow.
Nothing to do with you, of course, but one does feel...
more carefree in London.
Does that sound very wicked of me?
Might be interested in this paragraph here, Cynthia.
- Oh. - What is it?
- May I see? - Yes, of course.
There's nothing private about it.
Proceedings of the Geographical Society.
Lord Hollingford read a letter he received from Mr Roger Hamley.
Oh, Cynthia, isn't it wonderful?
Yes, but it's not news to me. I heard about it before I left London.
It was a good deal talked about in my uncle's set.
- You mean you could have gone? - I suppose I could.
I think they'd have been rather astonished by my sudden turn for science.
Why did...? If you'd told your uncle how things really stood...
- With Roger, I mean. - Please do understand,
I don't want my relation to Roger mentioned or talked about.
If I'm pushed to it, I'd rather break it off and have done with it.
Oh, Miss Browning. They were so fond of Cynthia, you would hardly believe it.
Do you know, she's had three letters from London this week already.
- Mama, please. - Three letters, fancy that.
- It must be almost as good as living there. - A great deal better, I should think.
In my opinion, London's no better than a thief dressed as honest folk.
Now, I've no patience with London.
Cynthia's much better out of it.
If I were you, Mrs Gibson, I'd stop up those London letters. They'll only be unsettling.
Perhaps she may live in London one day, Miss Browning.
I wish you an honest country husband,
with enough to live on, a little to lay by, and a good character, Cynthia.
- Thank you, Miss Browning. - Mind that, Molly.
I wish Cynthia a husband with a good character.
She's got a mother to look after her, and you've none.
I beg your pardon, Miss Browning?!
When your mother was alive, she was a dear friend of mine.
I won't let you throw yourself away on anyone
whose life is not clear and above board. You may depend on it.
I'm sure you're much mistaken, Miss Browning,
if you think any mother could take more care of Molly than I do.
I didn't mean to offend, Mrs Gibson.
As step-mothers go, I think you try and do your duty.
I just meant to give Molly a hint.
She understands what I mean.
I'm sure I do not.
I don't know what you mean, if you were alluding to more than you said.
I'm not thinking of marrying at all.
If I did and he weren't a good man, I should thank you for warning me.
I shan't just warn you, Molly. I shall forbid the banns in church if need be.
Do!
Trying to do my duty, indeed. Everybody knows I have always done my duty,
without talking about it before my face in that rude manner.
I've a deep feeling about duty.
It ought to be talked of in church, in sacred places,
not in someone's sitting room, with everyone drinking tea.
As if I didn't look after you as well as I do Cynthia.
I think perhaps Miss Browning has got some notion about Mr Preston.
She spoke to me about him once before.
What could have put that into her head?
I may not always approve of Mr Preston, but if it was him she was thinking of,
he's more agreeable than her. I'd keep his company over hers any day.
- Where's Cynthia, Molly? - She's gone out.
Oh, that's a pity.
I've got Simpson's dog cart. I was going to offer you a drive on my way to the lodge.
- Would you like to come? - I'll get my bonnet.
It means you'll have to walk home on your own.
I used to bring your mother here.
Jump down, lassie. Make your way back before it gets dark.
You'll find the cut over Croston Heath is quicker than the way you came.
You don't know your own mind.
- Why won't you listen to me? - Come here.
- Don't go. - Oh, please, just let me be.
Please.
You gave your promise freely enough. Why should you not keep it?
Because I can't bear it.
Let me go, please.
Molly!
What is it? What's the matter?
I think you should let her go now.
As Miss Gibson sees fit to interrupt a private conversation,
perhaps we can arrange to meet again, without the presence of a third party.
- I'll go now, if Cynthia wants me to. - No, stay.
I want you to hear it. I should have told her sooner.
Miss Kirkpatrick is referring to our engagement.
She promised long ago to be my wife.
Don't cry, Cynthia. I don't believe a word he says.
- It's true. - Don't cry.
Please don't cry. You can't imagine how it distresses me.
- Leave me alone. - Go away! Don't you see you make her worse.
Miss Gibson had better hear the whole truth.
We were to marry as soon as you were twenty.
You must have thought it strange we should meet in secret. Now you know.
I don't know anything of the kind. I know Cynthia is engaged to another,
so you can hardly expect me to believe you.
Molly, I'm not engaged to Roger.
I have some letters that might convince Miss Gibson it's the truth;
and Mr Roger Hamley, if he is the gentleman she's alluding to.
- I'm happy to make it clear to Mr Gibson, too. - That's what you should do:
Speak to my father like a gentleman and not make assignations in secret.
Let's go home now, Cynthia.
I never wanted it to be a secret. Can you deny that it's only been
at your request that I've kept this secret for so long?
If you will have it out, yes.
When I was fifteen, you lent me money and made me promise to marry you.
- Made you! - "Made" wasn't the right word.
I liked you then. I know you better now, and I'd never marry you.
I've done everything you've asked me to.
I've waited for years, I've put up with jealousy and neglect. Cynthia, I've loved you,
and I still love you.
I can't give you up. If you keep your word and marry me, I swear I'll make you love me.
I wish I'd never borrowed that money.
I've scrimped and saved to give it back, and he won't take it.
He won't set me free.
You make it sound as if you sold yourself for twenty pounds.
I didn't sell myself. I liked you then, but, oh, do I hate you now.
Molly, don't say any more just now. Come to my room tonight and I'll tell you everything.
You'll blame me terribly, but I will tell you.
I was on my own all that summer. Well, it was always like that.
As soon as the holidays came around, Mama was off to some great house or other.
Never seemed to care to take me with her.
I was used to him coming. He and Mama were friends.
I believe that Mama thought...
Well, I don't know about that.
Anyway, he was kind and sympathetic, I thought.
So, yes, I did like him then.
So this day, he found me in the deserted schoolroom.
The Donaldsons had invited me to a festival,
and though Mama had said I could go,
she hadn't said how I could get any money for the journey,
and I'd grown out of all my old summer dresses.
We were always poor, you see...
and yet we were never to speak of it
because of the shame and the disgrace of it.
All that worry about money made me sick of my life.
All alone? Improving the shining hour, I see.
Mr Preston noticed I was sad,
and I was grateful to him for kind words and sympathetic looks.
Tell me.
Little by little, he made me tell him all my troubles.
I do sometimes think he was very nice in those days.
He had twenty pounds in his pocket, he said.
He shouldn't want it for months, and I could repay it.
Mama knew I would need money, he said, and most likely assumed
I should ask him for it. So I took it.
I did so want to go and not be ashamed of my shabbiness.
It doesn't sound so very wrong, does it, Molly?
No.
I went to the festival. I think I looked pretty in my new clothes.
I saw other people thought so, too. It was pleasant to feel my power.
Then, on the last day, he joined us.
I suppose he really did fall in love with me.
I don't think he'd done so before.
Well, the end of it was that he began to talk violent love to me,
and he said the money should not be a debt, but an advance for when I should be his.
I don't quite know how, but I promised to marry him when I was twenty,
but asked it stay a secret until then.
After, I wrote him some very silly letters, Molly,
but it was all so long ago, and I did think I loved him then.
But somehow, as soon as I felt pledged to him, I started to hate him,
and I've just never been able to extricate myself.
But how could you get engaged to Roger?
Well, why not? I was free, I was free in my own heart.
I was touched by his love, so tender and unselfish, unlike Mr Preston's.
Oh, Molly, I know you feel I'm not good enough for Roger...
and sometimes I think I'll give him up.
Sometimes I think I'll marry Robert Preston out of pure revenge,
and then he'll be in MY power.
But I'd be the worst off for it,
for he is cruel in his very soul.
Tigerish...
with his beautiful striped skin and his relentless heart.
He says he will show my letters to your father,
unless I acknowledge the engagement.
He shan't do that. We won't let him do that.
I'm not afraid of him. I'll ask him to give the letters back.
- Let's see if he dares refuse me. - What if you were seen?
Oh, Molly, you don't know him. He has made so many appointments with me,
as if he were going to take back the money.
Molly, I've had it saved up for four months now.
He says he's sure he can make me love him,
and I think perhaps he could.
He could make me do anything...
then I should really be lost.
I will get those letters for you.
We're in the right, he's in the wrong and he knows it.
He must give up those letters.
And you must never tell anyone about this, especially not your father.
- I couldn't bear it if he knew. - As if I would, for any reason, short of...
Not for any reason at all! I would leave Hollingford and never come back
if he found out about this.
- Promise me. - I promise.
Is Cynthia not able to come?
I didn't know you were expecting her.
Yes, she said she would be here.
Well, she's sent me here to meet you.
She's told me exactly how things stand between you.
Has she? She isn't the most open or reliable person in the world.
If you really love her, you shouldn't speak of her in that way.
You have some letters of hers she wishes to have back...
- I dare say. ... that you have no right to keep.
No legal or no moral right? Which do you mean?
You've none at all, as a gentleman, to keep a girl's letters when she asks for them.
Still less to hold them over her as a threat.
I see you do know all, Miss Gibson.
But you have heard the story from her point of view. Now you must hear mine.
She promised me as solemnly as ever a woman did in this.
She was only a girl of fifteen.
She was old enough to know what she was doing.
She promised to be my wife, made me wait for her and to keep it secret. I kept my promise.
I might've married two or three girls with money and connections.
One was handsome enough and not reluctant...
I don't want to hear about other young ladies. I'm here for Cynthia, who doesn't like you,
and doesn't wish to marry you.
Then I must make her like me, as you put it.
She did like me once.
She loved me, and she'll love me again when we're married.
She won't ever marry you.
Then if she honours anyone else with her preference, he may read her letters.
No honourable man would! What use can they be to you?
They contain her repeated promises of marriage.
But she doesn't love you - if she ever did - she hates you.
She says she would rather leave Hollingford forever and earn her own living than marry you.
Young ladies are very fond of words such as "hate" and "detest".
I've known some who applied them to men they were secretly hoping to marry.
I can't say for others, but I do know Cynthia hates you as anybody like her hates.
"Like her"?
I mean I should hate worse.
So, now would you mind sending her back the letters by me?
I assure you, you cannot make her marry you.
You are very simple, Miss Gibson, aren't you?
I don't suppose you know of any other feeling that can be gratified but love.
Have you never heard of revenge?
She has cajoled me with promises of love, and I won't let her go unpunished. Tell her that.
I shall keep the letters and make use of them as I see fit.
Mr Roger Hamley shall hear of their contents, even if he's too honourable to read them.
Your father shall hear of them and what Miss Kirkpatrick says about her mother in them.
Perhaps you'd care to read their contents yourself?
No, I won't hear another word.
They were written to you, only to you, when she thought you were her friend.
But I have thought what to do next.
I should tell my father, but I promised not to, so I will tell Lady Harriet
and ask her to speak to her father about it.
I'm sure she will, and I don't think you'll dare refuse Lord Cumnor.
Miss Gibson, consider your position.
Keep still, you must be seen.
You've done nothing to be ashamed of.
Good morning, Miss Gibson. Your servant.
Bit early in the day to be meeting a sweetheart, eh, Preston?
Yes, I'm afraid I've kept you standing here too long, Miss Gibson.
Good day.
Sorry about that, Preston, disturbing your little tête-à-tête.
Oh, there'll be another time, I'm sure.
I don't doubt it.