Please to wait in here, Sergeant.
I'll tell Mr Tulkinghorn that you're here.
Hello, George. Oh. . .you're here before me, are you?
Pretty close, are you, with the great man?
We've done a bit of business, George, we're pretty familiar. Look out, here he comes.
Sergeant George. . . Thank you for coming.
I believe Mr Smallweed has told you that I'm interested
in a certain Captain Hawdon. The Captain's dead, sir.
Possibly.
Then again, possibly not.
Now, you served under Captain Hawdon at one time,
and were his attendant in illness, and were rather in his confidence, is that so?
Yes, sir, that is so.
So, you may have, in your possession, letters, accounts, instructions in Captain Hawdon's writing?
If I had, sir, what is that to you?
I wish to purchase them.
And may I ask why, sir?
No, you may not. And if you were a man of business, you would know better than to ask such a question.
But if you are afraid of doing injury to Captain Hawdon, you may set your mind at rest about that.
Aye. He is dead.
So you say.
Now, assuming that you have letters in the Captain's handwriting,
what will you take for them?
I'd rather have nothing to do with it, sir, if you'll excuse me.
Oh!
If I did have letters, they would be private and personal, sir,
between him and me, and not to be bought and sold.
Admirable sentiments.
Sergeant George, is it true that you gave shelter to the man, Gridley?
It is, sir, and I don't regret it.
A threatening, murderous, dangerous fellow?
I don't care for your associates, Sergeant George.
And I don't much care for yours, sir, if it comes to that.
Sergeant George is in debt, is he not, Mr Smallweed? He is indeed.
Right up to his throat he is.
And the debt could be called in at any moment?
Quick as lightning, if my friend in the City gave the nod, Mr Tulkinghorn.
And then Sergeant George, and any dependent on him, would be ruined?
I'm afraid so.
Very much afraid so.
Would you care to reconsider, Sergeant George?
Change your mind?
There would be no shame in it.
No, sir, I would not.
Handsome carriage.
Built to go far and fast, I'd say.
Who the devil is it? I wasn't aware we were expecting visitors.
If you please, Sir Leicester? Yes?
I believe it's Mr Rouncewell's carriage.
Ah. Yes, of course.
Mrs Rouncewell's son. Mmm.
What would one call him?
A self-made man, I suppose.
Treats himself pretty well, I must say.
No doubt he can afford to.
One understands he owns a number of factories.
Hmm, extraordinary.
Mr Tulkinghorn informs me he has been invited to go into Parliament.
My housekeeper's son, invited to go into Parliament.
She had another son, I understand.
He turned out very badly, if that is of any comfort to you.
Ran away to the wars and so forth. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.
But this one, the Ironmaster, has written to me and asked for an interview with the two of us.
But I'm confounded if I know what the fellow could possibly want from us.
Mr Rouncewell, m'lady.
Sir Leicester. Lady Dedlock.
It is very good of you to see me.
We would always wish to oblige Mrs Rouncewell's son, sir.
Please sit down. Thank you.
I will be very brief.
Lady Dedlock has been so kind as to take the young woman we have just seen into her service.
Rosa Cartwright. Exactly.
My son has fallen in love with Miss Cartwright, and asked my consent to his proposing marriage to her.
I am not, at present, inclined to oppose their engagement if the young woman is willing to engage herself.
But I would have to make it a condition of my consent that she did not remain at Chesney Wold.
Not remain at Chesney Wold? I don't understand you, sir.
Mr Rouncewell, pray explain what you mean.
Willingly, Lady Dedlock.
My wife and I were plainly brought up, but we have risen in the world
and we have been able to educate our son and his sisters well.
Very well.
Now, unequal marriages are not so rare in our world.
The son of a factory owner may fall in love with a young woman who works in that factory.
Mr Rouncewell, do you draw a parallel between Chesney Wold and a factory?
I agree the places are different, but I think the parallel may be justly drawn.
Are you aware, sir, that this young woman,
whom my Lady, my Lady, has placed near her person, was educated here?
Was brought up at the village school just outside the very gates of this house?
And brought up very well, I'm sure, as far as that goes.
Mr Rouncewell. . . My Lady, permit me one moment.
Mr Rouncewell, our views on duty, and our views on station,
and our views on education, in short, all our views
are so diametrically opposed that to prolong this discussion
would be repellent to your feelings and would be repellent to mine.
This young woman is honoured with my Lady's notice and favour,
but if she wishes to withdraw, she is at liberty to do so.
We are obliged to you for the plainness with which you have spoken.
Now let us leave the subject.
Sir Leicester, Lady Dedlock.
I thank you for your attention.
I shall very strongly recommend my son to conquer his present inclinations. Good day.
He's an obstinate fellow that Sergeant George. Obstinate?
He's a veritable brimstone beast.
I'd like to tear his head off.
I'd like to smash him to pieces.
You try to do the man a favour, he spits in your eye.
His position is vulnerable.
I'll call in his debts. I'll lay possession on his shooting gallery.
I'll have him in the debtors' prison. Not yet, I think.
Watch and wait, Mr Smallweed.
That's what I've learnt at law, and it's served me well.
Mr George may yet see reason.
Let him reflect a while.
He owes me money! I'd like to squeeze it out of him like blood out of an orange. And I would
if I had the strength.
He has the strength and the passion, I believe.
Is he a man of violence, Smallweed?
Man of violence?
It's his profession, Mr Tulkinghorn.
He's a past master in it. Then let's not put it to the test, not yet.
I believe I've been put in a hard spot, Phil.
Those two, they could break me, between 'em.
Not them. Ain't no-one could break you, guv'nor.
They could put me on the street,
and they're hard enough to do it.
And if I was on the street,
so would you be, Phil.
Been on the street before, guv'nor.
You don't wanna go back there.
I don't wanna put you back there.
If I were just to do what they say.
But it's a matter of honour, Phil.
This old place,
it's all we know, ain't it?
And it's all we've got in the world.
That's about it, guv'nor.
I won't see you on the street, Phil.
I made you a promise a long time ago, and I'll never go back on it.
They've put me in a hard place.
A very hard place.
I'll make you out one day, I will.
DOOR OPENS Who's that? It's me, Mr Krook.
It's Guppy, at your service.
Kenge and Carboys?
The very same.
You can put that away, Mr Krook. What d'you think I've got here?
The two and sixpenny.
You're half pickled already, ain't you?
Well, let's make a proper job of it.
Take drop y'self? Er, not on this occasion, Mr Krook.
Bit rich for my blood.
Barbary. That's what you're after.
Here.
Miss Barbary.
Mr Krook. . .
I don't believe it.
Miss Barbary was the lady who brought up Miss Esther Summerson. Ah!
Not that one.
That one Lady Dedlock now. Must be another one.
Well, they must be related.
Mr Krook, you see what I'm saying here?
Miss Esther Summerson,
my angel, Mr Krook, may be related to Lady Dedlock herself,
however distant, and thus might have a claim
in Jarndyce and Jarndyce.
This two and sixpenny - first class.
You should try it, young man from Kenge 'n' Carboys.
Ever hear the name of Hawdon, Mr Krook?
Hawdon? I have.
What's it gotta do with?
It's just I heard the other day Miss Esther Summerson. . .
Your angel. . .was previously known as Esther Hawdon.
Hawdon?
Here, I could show you a thing.
Look here.
These belonged to my lodger, Nemo.
Captain Hawdon - he really was.
Ah, eh. Don't touch.
What think, eh?
Worth? A lot?
I keep 'em all. I keep 'em all.
Hawdon. Yeah, but smell.
Smells of ladies.
Love letters. No.
Not look, smell.
You're a close one, Mr Krook.
Come to me, child.
Come here.
Tell me the truth.
Are you in love, Rosa?
Oh, m'lady.
Is it Mr Rouncewell's son?
Yes.
But I don't know that I'm in love with him.
Yet.
Yet?
I did think that he liked me.
Forgive me, m'lady. I'm not angry with you, Rosa.
You know I like to have you near me.
Thank you, m'lady.
You would not want to leave me so soon,
would you?
Even for a lover? Oh, no, m'lady.
Good.
Now, I have been thinking of spending some time in our London house.
Should you like to come with us?
Oh, yes, m'lady.
Then you shall.
Miss Esther Summerson.
Esther Hawdon.
Nemo, the law-writer. . .
. known as Captain Hawdon.
First Miss Barbary.
Second Miss Barbary.
Lady Dedlock.
DOOR CLOSES
My dear. . .
. Lady Dedlock.
Oh. . . bother!
Richard likes his fellow officers very much, he says.
There is a good deal of gaming, in which he does not join. Perhaps life will be the making of him.
If you please, sir - Mrs Woodcourt. Mrs Woodcourt?
(Perhaps she has some news.)
Mr Jarndyce, you must think this is very strange, but I will tell you how it is.
My son Allan particularly wished to be remembered to you all. Of course, Mr Woodcourt, the physician.
As I was in the neighbourhood, I thought I'd come and introduce myself.
An excellent thought. Delighted to make your acquaintance.
These young ladies, I suppose, are Miss Ada Clare and Miss Esther Summerson. Which is which, may I ask?
This is Miss Clare and this is Miss Summerson. Miss Clare... ..Miss Summerson.
Yes, I see.
Well, very nice.
Miss Summerson, I don't suppose you will have heard of Morgan ap-Kerrig?
No, Mrs Woodcourt.
I'm sorry, but I haven't.
A very great hero of our country. He's mentioned in the Mabinogion.
And we are descended in the direct line.
My son, Allan, wherever he goes, he will always remember his pedigree.
There's a lot of young ladies all over the world who would dearly love
to catch a husband who was descended from the line of Morgan ap-Kerrig.
Catch him with money, you know.
But he won't be caught, not with money or beauty,
or anything else, because birth must always be the first consideration.
Is he well, Mrs Woodcourt?
And in good spirits? Very well, thank you.
Sea-sickness has never troubled the seed of Morgan ap-Kerrig.
Might I ask, Miss Summerson, what your family was?
I never knew my mother or my father, Mrs Woodcourt.
No?
Well. . .
I dare say there's a good deal of that goes on. . . in England.
COUGHING
COUGHING CONTINUES
Jo, is that you?
Jenny?
Oh, Jo, you're not right. Just catch my breath.
All right in a tick.
You'll not be right here, Jo. None of us will.
The fever's everywhere. I'm going back to the country.
We'll set off tomorrow morning, first thing.
A bit of country air, Jo. That'll see you right.
'The boy's harmless enough, in my view, Mr. Tulkinghorn.'
In himself, perhaps,
but he knows things that he should not know.
There is a danger that he might talk to people.
The reputation of a great family's at stake here, Inspector.
Can't arrest him for knowing too much, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Well, of course not.
But you could keep an eye on him, perhaps, as a favour to me.
Make sure he keeps with his own kind, out of harm's way.
That's all I mean.
Well, I think that could be arranged, Mr Tulkinghorn.
I am obliged to you, Mr Bucket.
Letter for Guppy.
Letter for Guppy. Give it 'ere. "Private and Confidential. " Ain't we the swell?
Ow! What is it, Guppy? Never you mind.
Out of it. 'Ere y'are, sharp!
Miss, it's so good of you to come. I came as soon as I heard.
Is this the poor boy? No.
He looks fevered. No, no, don't let her take me.
Come on, Jo. Don't mind him, ma'am, he'll soon come back to his 'ead.
Don't let her come near. She won't hurt you, Jo.
Let's get you in a chair.
Come on. You're all mixed up, cos you've got fever.
We should take him home with us, where he can be cared for, Charley.
Will you come with us, Jo?
You're not the other lady.
No, I see now.
She was very like, but not so young.
Tradesmen round the back.
Ah, Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys, to see Lady Dedlock
on a matter of private business.
Step inside, sir.
My dear Lady Dedlock.
Lady Dedlock. . .
My Lady. . .
Oh!
Mr Guppy?
Of Kenge and Carboys, m'lady.
But acting, in this instance,
on his own initiative.
Will you sit down, Mr Guppy?
Oh, thank you, m'lady. If you'll excuse me,
I find it more natural to be on my legs on such an occasion.
All right, Mr Guppy.
Say what you have to say, if you please.
With Your Ladyship's permission, then.
Er, I'm not aware whether Your Ladyship ever happened
to hear of, or to see, a young lady by the name of Miss Esther Summerson?
I saw a young lady of that name not long ago.
Miss Esther Summerson. . . is my angel.
I have vowed to do everything in my power to advance her interest.
Now, there is a mystery about her birth.
If I could make any connection with Your Ladyship's family,
then she might have a right to be a party in Jarndyce and Jarndyce.
And if I could establish that, she might look upon my proposals
with more favour than she has exactly done as yet.
I see.
Go on.
Er, I have, um, met the former servant of the lady who brought up Miss Esther Summerson.
Her mistress was a Miss Barbary.
And Miss Barbary being your maiden name,
I imagined there might be some connection with Your Ladyship's family.
Possibly, yes.
Very good. Er, now. . .
this Miss Barbary was very close,
but on one occasion she seems to have confided in my client,
and on this occasion she volunteered that the little girl's real name
was not Esther Summerson but Esther Hawdon.
Oh, my God.
Er, Your Ladyship is acquainted with the name of Hawdon?
I have heard it.
Now, I come to the last point in the case,
as far as I have got it up.
There was a law writer, known as Nemo, who died not long ago in the house of a man named Krook.
Now I have discovered, very lately,
that this law-writer's real name was Hawdon.
It was supposed, Your Ladyship, that he left nothing behind him which to identify him.
But he did.
He left behind him a bundle of letters, tied up with a ribbon.
Who has them?
The man called Krook, Your Ladyship.
But. . .
I'm pretty sure I could get hold of them
and bring them to Your Ladyship, in strict confidence,
if Your Ladyship wishes me to.
Your Ladyship is not very encouraging,
upon my honour.
You may bring them, if you please. . .
Mr Guppy.
Say no more, m'lady.
It shall be done.
I wish Your Ladyship good day.
Mmm.
She lived.
This is a sorrowful case. What do you say, Harold?
You had better turn him out.
Turn him out?
Be cross with me, if I deserve it, but I have a constitutional objection to this kind of thing, you know.
I always did when I was a medical man.
He's, er. . . he's not safe, you know.
There's a very bad sort of fever about him. What is he to do, then?
Well, upon my life. . . I've not the least idea.
I am but a child, you know? Yes, and I believe there's not such another child on earth as yourself.
There's a bed in the loft room. He can sleep there tonight.
Tomorrow we can arrange for him to be taken into a fever hospital. Very unwise.
You can't recommend anything for the boy, I suppose? !
My dear Jarndyce. . .
I observed a bottle of cooling medicine in his pocket.
It's impossible for him to do better than to take it.
Tell them to sprinkle some vinegar about the place where he sleeps
to keep it moderately cool and him moderately warm.
But it is my considered opinion that you are very unwise in giving him house room at all.
Thank you.
All right there, Jo. . . Let's see what we can do for you.
All right.
Thank you, Miss.
You're very good to me.
I'm sorry I thought you were the other lady. Never mind, Jo.
You sleep now. Better tomorrow.
Thank you, Charley.
You get to bed yourself now, Miss. We've got him nicely settled.
Miss. Miss. Oh, Miss. . . What? What is it, Charley? !
Oh, no, he's not. . . No, Miss. What, then?
He's gone.
Gone? Gone clean off.
He's not there. I've looked all over.
He's gone.
Jo?
Jo!
What's happened to him? You don't think anyone could have took him?
Who'd want him, Charley?
The boy is safely stowed, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You're quite sure? Oh, yes, sir.
Acting on information received from a friend of ours. . .
It was all done very quiet and discreet, Mr Tulkinghorn. Hmm.
Perhaps I was being over-cautious,
but the interest of one of our oldest English families
are involved here.
Will you take a glass of wine, Mr Bucket?
Thank you, Mr Tulkinghorn, I will.
KNOCKS ON DOOR
Morning, Miss. It's a nice bright day.
Mr Jarndyce!
Mr Jarndyce, it's Miss Esther!
I have to tell you that Miss Summerson is gravely ill.
The doctor's told me that she. . .
.that she exhibits all the symptoms of the smallpox.
Miss Summerson's maid, Charley, has been kind enough and brave enough
to volunteer herself as Miss Summerson's nurse.
No-one else. . . No, no-one else, Ada. . .
is to enter her room, or to handle any dish or cup, or anything else that she has touched.
Is that quite clear to you all?
Yes, Mr Jarndyce.
I pray to God that she may survive this.
I blame myself, of course I do. I should have had the boy taken into a hospital immediately.
Damage might still have been done.
I think Esther would have done the same, even if she'd known the consequences.
You mustn't reproach yourself.
I pray to God she may survive this.
But the deuce of it is, if she does live, which is unlikely,
she'll be so horridly disfigured that any person of a sensitive disposition, such as myself,
will find her too distressing a sight to bear.
She will still be Esther, Mr Skimpole,
and her true friends will love her just as much as they ever did.
And for dinner, m'Lady?
Whatever you think fit.
I got a good forequarter of lamb from Digginses, m'Lady.
Sir Leicester's partial to lamb.
Lamb, then. Very good, m'Lady.
Oh, if you please, m'Lady?
Yes, Mrs Rouncewell?
You remember the young ladies that were staying with Mr Boythorn a while back? What of them?
One of them's taken very ill. . . with the smallpox.
Like to die, poor girl.
Mr Diggins had it from Mr Boythorn's groom. Which young lady?
Oh, not the Jarndyce ward, m'Lady, the other one. . . Miss Summerson.
Jarnuss!
Kenge-carbuncle.
Puppy.
Guppy.
She's his angel( !)
First Miss Barbary.
Second Miss Barbary, Captain. . .
Captain Hawdon!
All in here. . .
All in here somewhere!
Oooh.
It's good stuff.
Ah, it's excellent stuff.
There's a fire in me belly.
Never felt so. . .
so full of joy.
Eh, Lady Jane?
Ooh, warm as toast now.
Hold still! Damned twisty letters!
What's it all?
"My own. . .
" dear-est. . .
" dearest. . .James. "
It's Nemo and the lady.
It's a love letter.
And I can read it.
What's this? !
Lady Jane, I can read.
I can read, I can read.
Ow!
Oh. . . Oh, that's warm.
It's warmer than toast! It's warm as. . .
As warm as. . .
I say. . .
KROOK YELLS
Miss Flite.
This is late to be abroad for you.
I found it very close tonight, Mr Snagsby.
A queer sort of flavour in the air.
Opened the windows, still there. My poor birds quaking, twittering.
The cook at The Sol's Arms must have burnt the chops tonight, Miss Flite.
And I don't think, not to put too fine a point upon it,
that they were quite fresh when they were shown the gridiron.
I dare say that's it, Mr Snagsby.
It's a very tainting sort of weather. What's this coming down?
A sort of. . .
soot. Oh.
Very greasy to the touch. Oh?
What's that? Who goes there?
It's only me, Mr Snagsby.
Guppy of Kenge and Carboys, on urgent business, waiting upon Mr Krook.
It's very quiet and dark in there, Mr Guppy.
I think he's shut up shop very early tonight.
He'll see me, Mr Snagsby. A matter of pressing importance, very much to his advantage.
Krook?
Are you there? Come on, me old friend.
Business. Business.
There's money to be made for both of us.
Krook?
Where are you, you old devil?
What's this? What's going on?
What's all this sooty muck? Krook?
It's Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I've come for the letters.
GUPPY RETCHES
I wish I could go to her and be with her.
Charley is worn to rags sitting up with her night after night.
Oh, she's glad to do it. She's a good girl, the best of girls.
If anyone can pull Esther through this, she will.
Richard asks constantly about Esther in his letters.
He's so anxious about her. Yes. Yes, I know how much he cares for her.
And what else does Richard have to say for himself?
He has a good deal to say, but I don't think you'd care to hear it.
Oh, come, Ada, I won't be angry with you, nor him for that.
Not now, not at this time.
I have been coming to think I was too hard with the pair of you.
His love for you is as steady and true as anything I ever saw.
And mine for him.
But what he says does worry me,
and I think it will worry you too.
Then you had better tell me.
He wants to devote more of his energies to his suit in the Chancery Court.
I feared as much.
And he wishes to break off with Kenge and Carboys,
and engage another lawyer to defend his interest.
Please don't be angry with him,
or with me for telling you this.
I could never be angry with you, Ada. Nor will I be angry with him.
He's not to blame.
This accursed lawsuit's warped him out of himself as it's done with others before him and. . .
He must do what he think's right.
I bear him no ill will for it. Make sure he knows that, Ada.
And that there will always be a place for him here at Bleak House
and a place in my heart too.
Move along now, please. Nothing to see here.
Krook won't be opening up today.
I need to recover some property for a client, officer.
Guppy, Kenge and Carboys. I don't care who you are, sir.
No-one goes in there and nothing comes out, not till after the inquest.
Yes, I know all about the inquest.
I am one of the principal witnesses.
Better get over there, then. Coroner's gone up already.
Come to order, gentlemen.
Now, we're assembled here
to inquire into the extraordinary death of Mr Krook,
landlord and proprietor of Krook's Rag and Bottle Warehouse.
The second suspicious death in recent months
reported at the same premises,
the first being of the law-writer, popularly known as Nemo,
recorded as an accidental death brought on
as a result of the excessive consumption of opium. Mr Snagsby.
My Lord, I had occasion to venture abroad outside Mr Krook's business premises,
and I remarked upon the greasy odours on the air.
Remarked to whom? Yourself?
To. . .to me, Your Honour. I had been complaining about the very same.
And you are? Miss Flite. Tenant to the late departed, and claimant in the Courts of Chancery.
Mr Snagsby and I remarked upon it, and it was then that the young man appeared upon the scene.
What young man?
Er, that young man there, that fine, handsome young man,
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
Ah, yes, Mr Guppy.
Who, as I understand, discovered the remains?
Is that so, Mr Guppy?
I had that unfortunate. . . honour, Your Honour.
LAUGHTER Silence in court.
And what, may we ask, was Guppy of Kenge and Carboys
doing in Krook's Rag and Bottle Shop after hours?
Up to no good, Mr Guppy?
Your Honour, I take grave exception to that insinuation.
Mr Snagsby and Miss Flite will confirm that I was a regular visitor
at Mr Krook's establishment.
A trusted friend.
It was my pleasure to perform small services for the deceased.
To read him letters and documents he was unable to himself decipher.
And on this occasion? The same, Your Honour. Mmm.
And to collect a bundle of letters, which he was keeping in safe-holding, for a third party
for whom I was acting in a private and confidential capacity.
And you found him?
Dead, Your Honour. Mmm.
Burnt.
A small part of him still alight, with blue flame playing round about.
Like a Christmas pudding in a pool of brandy? Exactly so, Your Honour.
Except, I believe, in this case it was, in fact, gin.
All right, Mr Guppy, you may stand down.
Gentlemen of the jury, the deceased was an habitual consumer
of vast amounts of spirituous liquor which, as we know, is highly flammable.
The condition of the body, we've heard, was such that
all the evidence points to it having been consumed by fire.
But not from the outside inwards, as is most usual,
but from the inside outwards.
In short, I believe this is an example of that rarest of phenomena,
a case of spontaneous combustion.
Give way there! Give way there!
Oh, dear. Oh, Lord. Oh, my bones.
Be silent, sir. Are you aware that you are disturbing a properly convened coroner's court?
That's what I'm here about. My property! My property!
Krook's stuff. Put a guard on it. No-one to touch it.
Least of all that preening young villain from Kenge and Carboys.
Your property, Mr Smallweed?
That man Krook was Mrs Smallweed's brother.
She was his only living relative.
We shall make good our title.
Mr Tulkinghorn is my solicitor, and it's a brave man who tries to cross Mr Tulkinghorn.
So, transportation or the gallows for anyone who touches my property!
Put me down and shake me up, you brimstone black beetle.
Charley? Oh, Miss. You've come back to us.
How long was I away, Charley?
Two whole weeks nearly, Miss.
The doctors didn't think you'd pull through it,
but I knew you would, Miss.
I knew you wouldn't leave us.
It's very dark, isn't it, Charley?
The doctors thought the light might hurt your eyes.
I think I could bear a little more light now.
Don't, Miss. . .
Am I much marked, Charley?
Not as bad as all that, Miss.
And the marks do fade with time, so you could hardly tell they were there, they say.
Bring me a looking-glass. I want to see what you see. Not now, Miss.
Leave it till tomorrow.
Leave it till you're strong enough to get out of bed. Now, Charley.
I mean it.
Well, I never thought my face would be my fortune, and now I'm quite sure of it. Oh, Miss. . .
Charley, please don't cry for me.
I think I am very lucky to be alive,
thanks to you.
I'll run and tell Mr Jarndyce.
He'll be so happy, Miss.
Esther. Esther, Esther. . .
I don't mind you seeing me as I am,
but I'm not sure I want Ada to see me like this. I think it would upset her.
Well, you will have to take your chance on it
because I haven't been able to keep her away. DOOR OPENS
Esther. . .
I've missed you so much.
Come on. Sshhh.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys on a matter of personal business with Her Ladyship.
Her Ladyship is going out directly. Don't you see the carriage here?
Yes, I do see the carriage.
But I want to see my Lady too, and I think she will see me.
If you'd be so good as to wait there, Mr Guppy. . .
Your Ladyship,
a thousand apologies.
Circumstances beyond my control.
Oh, Lord.
Well, Mr Guppy? I, I. . .
I have to beg Your Ladyship's pardon for arriving at such an inconvenient time.
I told you you could arrive at any time.
Sit down, or stay standing, if you please.
Your Ladyship is very affable. As for sitting down, I hardly know whether
it's worth your while to be detained for so long as it would take.
The fact is, Your Ladyship, I have not got the letters
that I mentioned when I had the honour of waiting upon Your Ladyship.
And you have come here merely to say that?
It is not impossible, Your Ladyship, that I will be able to obtain them at a future date.
There were very unusual circumstances.
The person of whom I was to have the letters, came to a very sudden end.
What sort of sudden end?
Fire, m'Lady.
And were the letters destroyed with the person?
Impossible to say for certain, m'Lady,
but I will do my utmost to try and. . .
All right, Mr Guppy.
You have said all that you can usefully say at present?
Yes, my Lady.
Then I wish you good day.
Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Dedlock. I had some business of Sir Leicester's to attend to
and I supposed that this room would be empty. A thousand pardons, my Lady. Excuse me. No, stay.
The room is at your disposal.
I am going out, and I have nothing more to say to this young man.
Good day.
Excuse me, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Do we know you, young man?
Are you not from Kenge and Carboys?
Yes, sir. My name is Guppy.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I understood that I had the honour of conducting Her Ladyship's legal business.
May I ask what brought you here, Mr Guppy?
You may, sir.
But I am not at liberty to answer.
Indeed.
Very good, Mr Guppy.
Beyond saying it was business of a private and confidential nature.
Oh, I see.
Thank you, Mr Guppy.
I am much obliged to you. Good day.
So, what has been happening? What have I missed?
You have been missed, very much.
One strange thing. One day when I walked up to the village, I met Jenny from the brickfields.
She was so sorry to hear you were ill.
Blamed herself over it.
Did she have any news of that poor boy Jo? No.
But what she did say was very strange.
She told me that a lady with a veil had and asked after your health.
What lady? She couldn't say.
A stranger.
But this lady had taken a handkerchief of yours as a keepsake, and left her some money for it.
Do you remember that handkerchief, Esther?
Oh, the day her baby died.
I used it to cover his face.
Yes.
Jenny had kept it with the baby's things.
But the lady with the veil had been so particular about wanting it.
What a strange thing. I hope you're not tiring her, Ada?
No, indeed. I feel stronger with every day.
Then perhaps you'll feel well enough to see someone who's been anxious to hear about your progress?
My physician, Mr Woodcourt, you remember him?
Yes, very well. But have you heard what happened?
No, what? Oh, my dear, there was a terrible shipwreck.
Oh! Oh, don't be agitated.
He's safe.
Hundreds of dead and dying.
Numbers of drowning thrown upon the rocks, but through it all my physician was a hero.
Saved many lives. The whole country rings with it.
He should have a title bestowed upon him, and no doubt he will.
No-one could deserve it better, I am sure.
And he is well? You are sure of it?
Quite. Quite well, my dear.
Guppy, Clamb.
What do we know of Guppy?
Guppy.
Young Mr Guppy, of Kenge and Carboys? Yes.
Not a lot, Mr Tulkinghorn. Not much is known against him, at any event.
A keen, respectable young clerk.
Ambitious is the word they use for Mr Guppy.
Looking to rise in the world.
Hmm.
Were you thinking to employ Mr Guppy, sir, in some capacity?
No.
I sent for Smallweed. Is he come?
He's waiting in the outer office, sir.
Have him carried in.
If you'd care to come through, Mr Smallweed, Mr Tulkinghorn is expecting you.
Oh, have a care, you slaughterhouse ruffians.
Oh. . .
Oh, my bones and sockets!
Mr Tulkinghorn, I'd take it very kindly if you'd wait upon ME once in a while instead of causing me
to be posted all over London like a box of tripes!
Very kind of you to attend, Mr Smallweed.
I should be at Krook's, guarding my property.
And what is there to guard especially?
I don't know, but that old brimstone beast had something worth snaffling.
Guppy's after something there, I know that. Guppy, you say?
Yeah. Very full of himself he was at the inquest.
Was the name of Hawdon mentioned there? Hawdon? No.
But he's at the heart of it, I believe.
I think we should speak to Sergeant George again, Mr Smallweed.
Call in his debts. Squeeze him dry. Smash him to sawdust!
If need be, Mr Smallweed.
It may come to that.
So it's come to this, has it, Sergeant?
You're ready to be ruined for the sake of showing, or not showing,
a piece of paper with some handwriting on it?
For myself, sir, it counts very little either way.
It counts very little, does it?
Let's see you smashed to sawdust, see how that counts with you.
For yourself, Sergeant.
But you have at least one other who depends on you for everything.
Would you bring him down with you to serve your own pride?
Your friend Captain Hawdon's dead and gone.
But what's poor Phil Squod to do if you lose your establishment?
Starve, I suppose.
That's nothing to me, nor Mr Smallweed.
But how will it rest with your conscience, Sergeant?
If I show the letter, no harm will come to anyone from it?
I offer no guarantees, but if you don't show it, I think you understand the consequences.
Then I have no choice.
You have the document with you? No. But I will bring it.
Well, make sure that you do.
But take care, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You hold the lives of others very cheap, I think.
If I were you, I should be fearful for my own.
Do you threaten me, sir? I have been threatened before,
and those who made the threats had reason to regret it.
I think I have little to fear from such as you.
Clamb!
Show the gentleman out.
DOOR SLAMS
Nearly done, Mr George. All right, Phil.
Is that the Captain's letter?
It is, Phil.
You gonna hand it over to Mr Tulkinghorn?
I can't see my way out of it, Phil.
It's that, or on the street.
Tell him to go hang. We'll get by.
I'll be all right, Mr George.
Don't worry about me. I can go back on the old one-two.
I think your fighting days are over, Phil.
No offence.
But this, it's a matter of honour.
The Captain's honour. Matter of life or death.
And the Captain's dead.
I think my duty's to the living.
Mr Tulkinghorn will have what he wants. . .this time.
Oh, so kind of you, my dear Mr Jarndyce.
Such hospitality, and now a carriage all to myself.
You will be remembered on the Day of Judgement, when my birds shall be set free. I'm glad to hear it.
Have a safe journey, Miss Flite.
Your cousin, my dear. . . Mr Carstone, the other Ward in Jarndyce.
What about him, Miss Flite? Let someone hold him back, or he'll be drawn to ruin.
But Richard is in no danger, Miss Flite.
Oh, I know the signs, my dear.
I saw them begin in Gridley, and I saw them end.
But just let someone hold him back and. . .
and all may yet be well. Goodbye, my dears. Goodbye.
What's this, Clamb?
The writing sample from Sergeant George, Mr Tulkinghorn. I asked him to step inside but he wouldn't wait.
No matter. Let me see it.
So this is Captain Hawdon's hand.
And this is the handwriting of the law-writer. . .
known as Nemo.
I'd say the handwriting of the two documents was identical.
Would you, Clamb?
We shall be quiet now Miss Flite has left us.
She does love to talk, doesn't she?
Ada, what is it?
I didn't quite like what she said about Richard.
Miss Flite says a lot of odd things about all sorts of subjects.
But to say that he might be ruined. . .
To compare him to poor Mr Gridley.
Richard's love for you is steady.
He's not like Mr Gridley,
or Miss Flite.
He has someone besides himself to care about.
That will keep him straight. Yes.
Yes, it will, won't it?
I hope it will.
We should be going down. Are you nearly ready? Yes.
But that was exciting news about Mr Woodcourt, wasn't it?
Fancy, to be in a shipwreck.
To save all those sailors' lives.
You must have felt very proud of him, when you heard the news.
I did feel proud of him.
I do.
I can't help it, though he's nothing to me now. Esther, how can you say that? Because it's true.
He cared for you. I know he did.
Perhaps he did. And perhaps he might have told me before he went away.
If I had been richer, or somebody's daughter. . .
But he never did.
And now I'm glad he did not. If he had, how he would regret it when he saw me again as I am now.
Don't look at me like that, Ada.
It's the truth, and you know it.
We are quiet this evening,
just as Esther said we'd be.
Perhaps we should send for Miss Flite to come back again.
Mmm?
Ah, forgive me. . . Ada, Esther, I think the wind's been in the east again.
Esther, could you spare me a few minutes of your time in the Growlery after dinner? Yes, of course.
DOOR OPENS Come in, Esther. Shut the door.
I. . . I was walking past your room, on my way down to dinner
and I couldn't help overhearing a little of your conversation.
Oh. And I must apologise to you for that.
You have no need to. Anything I say to Ada, I would say to you.
Then. . .
I hope you won't mind my saying
I was sad to hear you talk as you did.
About Mr Woodcourt?
Yes.
I. . . Sit down, Esther.
Did you. . .truly care for him?
Whether I did or not matters very little now.
His mother made it quite clear that I was not to think of someone with his. . .
distinguished ancestry,
and now it is quite beyond doubt.
I shouldn't think there's a man in the world who'd want to marry a pock-marked nobody like me.
Esther. . . Isn't it true? It's. . .
Please don't think I pity myself. . .
because I don't.
I know that I am very lucky to be alive.
And at Bleak House, so long as you're happy to keep me here. More than happy, Esther.
And whatever the Woodcourts of this world may think or feel,
there are those. . .
who love you very dearly.
And your. . .
your misfortune has not made you any less lovable than you were.
Perhaps. . .
even dearer,
to someone who knows you,
and. . .
truly loves you.
Thank you.
But you didn't need to say that. I knew you would not change.
And Ada and Charley, they feel the same. Not quite the same, Esther. Oh, near enough, I think.
So you mustn't worry about me, sir.
I shall do very well with my friends about me.
Rubbish. Rubbish.
Rubbish. Rubbish. Rubbish.
Hmm.
Rubbish.
Shake me up, Judy.
Oooh. Not so rough, you poll-parrot.
Let's have the next lot.
There's money in this somewhere, I know it, and I'll have it cos I'm owed it, and it's mine.
Out, out, out! Private property!
Closed for business! No admittance to loiterers, hawkers and thieves.
No admittance to anybody. Get out. Draw it mild, Mr Smallweed. You know me, I think.
Guppy. Of Kenge and Carboys.
I know you. At the inquest.
Snooping around.
What do you want now?
I'm interested in recovering a bundle of letters for a client.
Who's the client? I'm not at liberty to disclose, Mr S.
You give nothing, you'll get nothing. Who's the client?
A lady. Oh, a lady. Very nice.
So what are these letters you're after, then, you young villain?
Not a villain, sir. I am a member of the legal profession.
Same thing, same thing!
So, what are these letters?
They're private letters. Intimate letters of no interest to anyone but my client. But she'll pay for 'em.
Oh, will she? As I say, they're of no value.
No value at all. Except to my client.
But she'll pay for 'em? Er, she'll pay a nominal sum.
You mean you'll pay a nominal sum, and she'll pay you a king's ransom, you young blaggard!
That's about it, eh? Not at all, Mr Smallweed.
My motives are very pure. . .
to help my client and also, if I can, to help another lady.
A lady who is very dear to my heart, Mr Smallweed.
You do like your ladies, don't you, Mr Guppy?
So how am I to know these letters, supposing I can lay my hands on 'em?
They are tied up with a pink ribbon, Mr Smallweed.
Oh, pink ribbon. Very nice.
Shake me up, Judy. And. . .
And? And what? Come on, out with it. Addressed to a Captain Hawdon.
Captain Hawdon, you. . . Captain Hawdon? You know the name, Mr Smallweed? No.
Never heard of him.
All right, Mr Guppy,
we are making an inventory of the deceased's possessions.
Very heavy work, as you can see.
IF we find these letters, we might see our way to entering into negotiations with your lady client.
That's all I can say for the present. Show the gentleman out, Judy. Thank you very much, Mr Smallweed.
And a very good night to you. Never mind all that! Get out! Get out!
And lock the door behind him, Judy.
Captain Hawdon.
And a lady.
And a young lady.
There'll be money in that, I believe.
So where's these letters, you brimstone beast?
A letter from our friend Boythorn, with an invitation to visit him.
He's most pressing.
Should you like to go, Esther?
You well enough recovered to stand the journey? The journey would be nothing, but, er. . .
But what?
I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable about being seen outside our little circle.
I suppose that's very vain of me.
You could wear a veil, Esther, when you go abroad.
Boythorn's a good old friend who cares for you almost as much as we do.
Look what he says here. . .
"If you refuse to come," he swears he'll tear his house down!
Brick by brick and stone by stone.
You wouldn't be responsible for that, Esther?
No, I wouldn't be responsible for that.
And I must get used to my new self, and people seeing me as I. . .am now.
Please tell Mr Boythorn I'm delighted to accept his invitation.
KNOCK AT DOOR
If you please, m'lady? Yes, what is it?
I thought you'd like to know, the young ladies are staying at Mr Boythorn's again.
They've been seen round the village.
Both of them? Yes, m'lady.
The one who was ill. . . Miss Summerson, is it? Is she recovered?
Yes, m'lady, thank the Lord.
But they say her poor face is terrible scarred, from the smallpox.
Thank you, Mrs Rouncewell.
This is good of you, Boythorn.
Well, one does what one can.
What can a man do to make up for what has happened to that poor girl? Nothing.
How did it come upon her?
She caught the infection from a poor vagrant boy that we took in. I blame myself.
Blame yourself because of an act of kindness to a fellow human being?
That's arrant nonsense, man.
It's poppycock. I tell you who's to blame.
It's that fellow who calls himself God Almighty.
What kind of deity is it who would visit such an affliction on an innocent girl?
I ask you, Jarndyce, what does the Almighty think He's up to?
He let her live.
And so, are you glad you accepted Mr Boythorn's invitation, Esther?
Oh, yes. I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be.
Good afternoon. Good afternoon, miss.
And a fine one, too.
Have you been blackberrying? We have. Would you young ladies like to taste some?
Thank you. Thank you.
Very welcome. Good day to you now.
What's the matter with the lady's face, Pa? Ssh. Don't be rude.
You've never heard the story of the Ghost Walk at Chesney Wold?
I'm not sure I believe in any such thing.
Well, you'd better. . . because it's a true story.
And you may see the Ghost Walk for yourself.
In the days of Charles I,
there was a Dedlock
called Sir Morbury Dedlock,
and he was loyal to the King.
But his Lady,
who had no family blood in her veins,
favoured the rebels.
She spied upon her husband
and betrayed him.
And no matter what Sir Morbury did,
he could not bend her to his will.
She would creep down, at dead of night, and lame the horses.
That was the story.
So Sir Morbury and his friends couldn't ride out to battle,
and one night, he caught her at it,
and he threw her to the stone floor so violently that he broke her hip bones.
It's not a pretty story.
And she died slowly from her injury.
But before she died, she cursed her husband.
" And ever afterwards," she said.
"Whenever you hear my footsteps on that terrace,
"you may be sure that calamity and disgrace is coming to the House of Dedlock. "
And so it has been from that day to this.
Well, I should like to see it.
Then I'll take you there tomorrow.
Mmm.
Yes, Clamb? Sergeant George, Mr Tulkinghorn.
What about him? Well, sir, seeing as how he provided the handwriting sample. . .
Yes?
Well, am I to send him through the paper to say that he's released of the debt?
No.
You say no, Mr Tulkinghorn?
Tell Smallweed to let the matter rest for one month and then foreclose on the debt.
I don't. . . I don't quite understand you, Mr Tulkinghorn.
I did not expect to have to justify my actions to my clerk, Clamb.
But, since you ask,
I choose to foreclose on the debt because I wish to do it,
and because I can do it.
Sergeant George is going to have to learn that there is a price to be paid for acts of defiance.
Quite clear, Clamb?
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir. Good.
Then go and do as I tell you.
This is as far as I may come.
Any further, and Sir Arrogant Numskull's ruffians would set upon me.
I think he's trained his very dogs to smell me out.
But you ladies will be safe to roam the grounds as long as I'm not with you.
Now, the Ghost Walk is around to the side.
There.
I wish you a happy exploration.
Thank you, Mr Boythorn.
And if you see the ghost, tell her that Lawrence Boythorn would be very happy
to see disgrace and ruin for Sir Arrogant Numskull and all his tribe.
It's a great, big, dark old place, Miss, ain't it?
Should you like to live in a place like this, Charley? No fear, Miss. Nor I.
This must be the place.
I don't care for it much, Miss.
Ssshh.
We should stay still and quiet.
Perhaps we'll hear the ghost's footsteps.
Oh, Miss!
Miss Summerson, I'm afraid I have startled you.
You have been very ill, I know.
Are you unwell now?
I was quite well but a moment ago, Lady Dedlock.
Miss Summerson, I should like to speak with you in private.
Perhaps Miss Clare and your maid could go back ahead of you? I would be very much obliged.
Yes, of course, my lady.
Come, sit down with me, child.
It will heal.
What? What is it?
I have something to tell you.
Something so dreadful I am not sure that I have the courage to speak the words.
I am your mother, Esther.
I don't understand.
I am your wretched and unhappy mother.
Can you bear to look at me?
Can you forgive me? You are truly my mother?
I never knew you lived.
They told me you had died only hours after you were born.
For 20 years I never knew I had a daughter living.
I thought I should never see you.
May I. . .
may I call you Mother?
May. . . may. . may. . . SHE SOBS
How long have you known?
How did you find me?
I only discovered the truth very lately.
And then I was told that you were ill, even dying,
and I was desperate to think that I should never see you to tell you the truth about yourself.
And now I am well, and we have all the time in the world.
No.
This story has no happy ending.
I was a wilful and impetuous young woman.
I fell in love with a young officer, and. . .
I lay with him the night before he went away with his regiment to the West Indies.
He never returned.
He was reported dead.
So this was my father? Yes.
What was his name?
His name was Hawdon.
James Hawdon.
He was a captain in the Light Dragoons. And he never knew of my existence?
I was very ill at my confinement,
and when I came to myself, they told me you had died.
And I thought I should never feel anything again. Nor did I,
until now.
Sir Leicester Dedlock asked me to marry him, and I accepted him.
Of course I told him nothing.
I deceived him and let him think that I loved him.
That was wicked of me and no doubt I shall pay for it.
I have tried to be a good wife to him, but the family honour means everything to him.
And if my secret were known, it would destroy him.
He must never know.
If he does, everything is lost. . .
he is disgraced and I ruined.
That is why. . .
.you and I
must never see each other again.
I've only just found you.
Don't. . .don't. . .
don't send me away now.
I must.
(I must. )
If we were to see each other again,
it would be discovered for certain,
and it would all come out.
This must be
the first and last time, my dear daughter.
I. . . . I came to see the Ghost's Walk,
and. . .
I thought it was just a story. . .
but it's true, isn't it?
I am the one who will bring calamity and disgrace to the house.
It is true what Miss Barbary said.
It would have been better if I had never been born. No, my love.
Try and forgive me, my child.
Esther.
Whatever's the matter?
Is there anything you want, m'lady?
No. . .thank you, Rosa.
Nothing at all.
KNOCKING AT DOOR
Esther?
Are you well?
Yes, well enough now, Ada.
But you were upset. Don't deny it.
I saw you as you ran into the house.
I was a little upset. But now I'm fine.
It was Lady Dedlock, wasn't it?
What did she say? Was she very angry with us for trespassing? No.
What, then? I can't tell you, Ada.
It's a secret? Yes, it's. . . it's a secret.
So secret you can't tell your best friend in all the world?
Well, I gave my word.
Perhaps one day I shall be able to tell you.
But for now, you must promise to never ask me about it.
I thought we would never have secrets from each other, Esther.
I hope that this will be the only one.
I was going to tell you one of mine, but now I'm not sure that I shall.
Esther! Ada!
Later.
Mm-hm.
My dear, young ladies, what can I say?
What a wretched dog I am to be sure.
Invite you to stay, then abandon you to your fate like the babes in the wood. Yet it must be done.
And my friend Jarndyce says you will forgive me.
Mr Boythorn, whatever is it?
My friend has been called away urgently,
and I'm to accompany him to witness a document.
I have assured him you will be able to survive our absence very well.
It'll only be for a day or two. Yes, indeed.
Being as you are, two very sensible and competent young women.
I hope we are, sir.
Well, I am most prodigiously obliged to you both.
There, what a bit of luck.
I couldn't think how I was going to manage it.
Manage what, Ada?
Ladies. This way.
Now, you mustn't be cross.
There's someone staying here that wants to see you. Wants to see me?
Here we are, ladies.
Richard.
Esther.
Come, let me see you.
Much changed, as you see.
No.
No, still our same, dear Esther.
What a joy it is to be together again, all three of us.
Let's sit down.
HORSES THUNDER PAST
So, let's say those two young people marry.
What about Esther?
She has been Ada's companion. . .
Will she go with Ada when Ada is Mrs Carstone?
I would hope that she will want to stay on at Bleak House.
As your housekeeper?
Not necessarily as my housekeeper.
Then as what, man?
Ah.
Of course.
Why didn't I think of it before?
You mean to marry her.
BOYTHORN LAUGHS
You mean to marry her.
Is it so very ridiculous, Boythorn?
Ridiculous?
No, of course not.
One hears of such things every day.
Old men marrying their young housekeepers.
Tell me, if you don't think I'm being over-curious,
when did you first conceive this plan?
When you first put her to school? No.
Was that what it was all along?
Were you bringing her up to be your bride?
No. It. . . Boythorn, I beg of you. . . No, no, she knows nothing of this.
Not yet. Now, I've spoken more than I meant to.
You will respect my confidence, old friend. Absolutely.
Though I were dragged apart by horses, until I was torn in pieces, I wouldn't breathe a word of it.
So this was your secret?
Do you think it's very bad of us?
To see each other in secret? No.
But you could have come to the house, Richard. You'd have been very welcome.
I'm not so sure of that.
Things are a little awkward at present between our guardian and me.
All my fault, I dare say,
but. . . here we all are. I hope you'll both stay for supper.
Mr Grubble has engaged to do his best for us.
Fowl, chops, cutlets and I don't know what.
Esther, it's so good to see you again.
I, um. . . I came as soon as I could.
And how does Army life suit?
Oh, well enough, I suppose.
But. . .
I find it hard to settle.
Esther, it's very difficult to settle to anything until our Chancery suit is decided.
But our. . .our guardian says the case could run on for years and years without ever seeing a settlement.
He says it's the family curse, Richard.
What Mr John Jarndyce says and what might be the case, can be two very different things.
Besides, I'm not accountable to Mr Jarndyce or to Mr Anybody.
But. . .
we won't go into that now. He and I must agree to differ, that's all.
So. . .are you looking after your own legal affairs now?
No, no. Vholes is the man.
And what a man for putting his shoulder to the wheel.
Er, Mr Skimpole introduced us, you know?
I'm eternally grateful to him for doing so.
You won't be joining your friend for supper, Mr Skimpole?
Not this evening, Mr Grubble. Best not.
Ah. Right you are, sir.
Um. . .
Fresh glass, Mr Grubble?
Right you are, sir.
Is Mr Skimpole the best person to advise on matters of business, do you think?
Well, I was surprised myself at first, but if you met Vholes, you'd set all doubt aside.
We're all action now.
There's more expense, of course,
but that's only to be expected if we're to see results.
Ada understands all that. Don't you, Ada?
And it's for your sake as much as mine, you know?
But Richard, what if nothing were to come of it, after all?
What if you've been wearing yourself out with waiting and anxiety,
and false hopes and expense?
I never wanted to be rich and I'm sure you didn't either.
No, of course not. Then why not give it up?
Give it up?
Then we could be poor and happy.
Ada, I would.
I'd do it like a shot. The. . . the money's nothing to me. Then?
Justice.
Justice for me and for Ada, that's all I want.
I won't be done out of my rights by Mr John Jarndyce, or by anybody.
Let's leave all that.
Seize the moment.
I can't tell you how happy I am to be with you both again.
And he will spend all day with us tomorrow.
You see, what I was thinking, if we can keep him here,
away from all his cares in London, then he will remember himself.
The old Richard, who never really went away.
He certainly loves you as much as he ever did.
Do you think so? Mm-hm.
I think he does.
And I shall never give him up, no matter what happens.
Do you think we could persuade him to stay here until Mr Jarndyce comes back?
Then we could all be friends again.
We could try.
Now, pay heed.
That's for the rag and bone man.
Those are for the rag and bone man. Grandfather.
You're for the rag and bone man if you give me back answers. What's that?
I thought they might be what Kenge's boy was talking about. Pink ribbons.
They was under your chair. It's them.
The letters to Captain Hawdon from a lady.
There's money in this.
DOOR OPENS Who's that? Who's there? Get out! Get out! Trespassers. Spies.
Mr Smallweed, I reside in this house
and I have a perfect right to be here.
Only on my say so.
Who's the landlord here? Me! And we're putting the rents up.
Get some proper tenants in, eh?
Queen's Counsels, Members of Parliament, younger sons of the aristocracy. Oh!
Younger sons of the aristocracy, here?
I don't think so, Mr Smallweed. Good day to you.
Don't you turn your nose up at me.
I'll see you in the gutter!
Oh, Ada, if only life could be like this all the time.
Well, it could, couldn't it?
One day. . .
. perhaps.
Ah, Miss Summerson. How delightful.
A thousand pardons for this intrusion upon the sylvan scene.
And this. . . Oh, can it be. . .
poor Mr Coavins's eldest daughter?
Yes, sir, if you please, sir. It's Charley, sir.
Charley. And grown so fine.
Why, you're a credit to your poor father, my dear. Thank you, sir.
I was able to give him a good deal of employment while he lived,
and if one of your little brothers should set up
in the same profession, I dare say I could do the same for him. Yes, very likely.
Miss Summerson, always so sharp.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
I'm so. . .
If only Jarndyce had heeded my advice.
The, er, the. . .the. . .
Not still contagious, I hope?
Not in the least, Mr Skimpole. You needn't fear.
May I ask who your friend is, Mr Skimpole?
Why, you may indeed, Miss Summerson.
This is Mr Vholes.
Mr Carstone's indefatigable attorney, just come down from London on urgent business for his client.
And now you understand the reason for our visit.
I hope we don't disturb you, Miss Summerson.
Mr Carstone gave express instructions that he was to be informed whenever his case is up before the Chancellor.
And as I find it is in the paper for tomorrow, I am come down by the express coach to confer with him.
I expect he will want to go straight back to London.
Is his presence really necessary tomorrow, sir?
Well, no. Can it do any good?
No, I'm not aware that it can.
Then why all this travelling up and down, which I suppose is at Mr Carstone's expense?
You suppose correctly, Miss Summerson.
But Mr Carstone has laid down the principle
of watching his own interests.
And when a client lays down his own principle,
I am obliged to carry it out.
Am I not? Of course I am.
My conscience is quite clear.
Ah, I believe I see my client now.
Excuse me, Miss Summerson.
There you are, Miss Summerson.
Common sense, responsibility and respectability all united.
What a man he is, to be sure.
And what a pleasure to be able to introduce him to our young friend. And how did that come about?
Why, Vholes asked for the introduction and I, er. . . I gave it.
Did any money change hands, Mr Skimpole?
Why, now you mention it, yes, I believe it did.
Hmm.
Indeed. . . I think you might say that Vholes bribed me.
Well, he gave me something, at any rate.
Called it "commission".
Was it a five pound note?
Do you know, I think it must have been. I understand.
Ah, Miss Summerson, you understand everything.
So young.
Whereas I. . .
I understand nothing.
A child.
Mr Smallweed?
Shop's shut. No admittance!
Get out before I set the dogs on you. HE BARKS
Down, sir, down. Better get out quick, I can't hold 'em. Mr Smallweed, it's me.
Guppy. Kenge and Carboys.
Guppy, is it? All right, come forward. Stand to be recognised.
Shake me up, Judy.
Ooh. What do you want?
I was wondering whether you'd come across those letters I was mentioning.
Letters? What letters? We're up to our throats in letters here!
Tied with pink ribbon? In a lady's hand?
Addressed to a Captain Hawdon?
Ah, those letters. Now I recall.
So what if I had found 'em?
Then my client would be very interested in purchasing 'em. Your lady client? That's right.
For a nominal sum? That's right.
What sort of sum?
Ten pounds?
Do you think I'm a new born baby, Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys?
If I was to have a sight of 'em, Mr Smallweed,
I may be able to offer something a little bit more handsome.
So, have you got 'em or not?
Mr Guppy. Oh.
Mr Tulkinghorn, sir. How do you do, sir?
Here on business, Mr Guppy?
I am, sir. Kenge and Carboys' business?
No, sir. Oh. Set up chambers of your own, have you, Mr Guppy?
No, sir. I am here on behalf of a private client.
In Kenge and Carboys' time.
Mr Kenge will be interested to hear of it when I tell him.
Really, sir, begging you wouldn't.
Name of your private client?
Not at liberty to disclose it, sir.
Quite sure about that?
Wild horses wouldn't drag it from me, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Wouldn't they, now?
All right, Mr Guppy, take yourself off.
But I was talking to Mr Smallweed, though. . .
Good day, Mr Guppy.
Right.
He was after them letters.
Did you let him see them?
No, Mr Tulkinghorn. Or let him know that you had 'em?
No, Mr Tulkinghorn. Soon as I saw the name Hawdon,
I thought, "Mr Tulkinghorn will wanna see these. "
Hmm, quite right. I shall want something for 'em, Mr Tulkinghorn.
I will pay you £250 for these letters,
on condition that you deny ever having seen them,
or any knowledge of Captain Hawdon in connection with a lady,
or with anything else. Do you agree?
Yes.
Then that concludes our business.
My clerk will bring you the money before close of business today. Good day to you.
And then the search fees, and the attendance fees,
and the various disbursements, and attending upon your good self. . .
Yes, yes, of course, but we are making progress?
We are very active, Mr Carstone.
We have our shoulders to the wheel.
No stone is left unturned.
Yes. Good.
Good.
If it weren't all so deuced expensive.
That is the way of things, Mr Carstone.
Nothing is for nothing, as they say.
Are Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock still in town, Clamb?
Er, no, sir. They've returned to Chesney Wold.
Then I shall have to visit them there.
You have a gentle touch, Rosa.
Thank you, milady.
I find it soothing.
And I am in need of soothing.
We are all out of sorts today, Rosa.
Sir Leicester is out of sorts because his candidate has lost the election.
Are you interested in politics, Rosa? No, milady.
Nor am I.
But it seems he was defeated by Mr Rouncewell's candidate.
Sir Leicester is very angry with Mr Rouncewell.
He thinks Mr Rouncewell is trying to bring down the aristocracy.
I don't care tuppence about it. . .
but I am sorry to see Sir Leicester so distressed.
Is that why you're out of sorts, milady?
That, and the fact that Mr Tulkinghorn is coming to dinner.
You don't care for Mr Tulkinghorn, milady?
No, I do not.
I care for you, though, Rosa.
Very much.
Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
And I find my house in very good order.
No robbers, then? No ghosts.
No hobgoblins?
We did have one visitor. Richard.
Mr Carstone came to see us.
Rick? Was Rick here?
You're not angry? No, indeed. I'm only sorry that I missed him.
I do not think he would have come to the house
if he had known you were here.
Still on that tack, is he?
The wind is in the east there. Oh, Rick, Rick.
We tried to persuade him to stay. . .
. but he was called away.
Army business? Unfortunately not.
Court business? Yes.
He has a new lawyer, a Mr Vholes.
Introduced to him by Mr Skimpole.
And they are making a meal of him, I have no doubt.
Poor Rick.
Ada, I believe I have done you wrong and done Rick wrong.
No, I don't think that.
Even if Richard does.
And he doesn't believe you've done him wrong, exactly.
Only that his interests conflict with yours in the Chancery Court.
I gave up all my claims to an interest in that case many years ago.
When I say " did you wrong",
I mean when I refused my consent to your engagement.
It would have been better if I had consented.
Well. . .
I consent now.
Rick's love for you is the best and steadiest thing about him.
You are his best hope now, Ada.
Yes, yes, yes,
yes, yes, yes. All right, Mr Bunce.
In the matter of Jarndyce and Jarndyce. . . Yes, Mr Brownlow?
Application for costs, m'lud.
Yes, I dare say. Any more?
GENERAL AGREEMENT Very well, I'll hear them now.
As for the rest. . .
the several depositions and representations waiting to be heard,
the meat of the matter, as one might say,
postponed till Wednesday fortnight.
And this man. . . Rouncewell,
who has been a guest in my house, a guest under my roof, Tulkinghorn,
has sided against me, with the rabble. Most regrettable.
And this was the man who wanted to take my lady's maid away and educate her, if you please.
As if Chesney Wold were not good enough for her.
I have no intention of parting with her.
But these people are very proud, in their way.
If they felt the girl. . .
Rosa, is it? . . had been tainted by the association. . .
Tainted? Ridiculous.
I heard a story, very lately, of a townsman of Mr Rouncewell's
whose daughter attracted the attention of a great lady.
Yes? Yes, go on.
The great lady I speak of treated the girl with great kindness
Kept her always near her.
So far, so good.
But the great lady had a secret.
She had, in early life, been engaged to marry a young rake. . .
A captain in the Army.
She never did marry him,
but she gave birth to a child
of which he was the father.
Shocking. Shocking.
Years later, the truth emerged.
And when Mr Rouncewell's townsman heard of it,
he took his daughter away from the great lady
saying that she had been tainted by the disgrace of the association.
Mmm.
Well, in such circumstances, of course,
if such a thing were possible, one could understand it.
But the fact of the matter is that such a set of circumstances could not possibly happen.
The behaviour you speak of would never have taken place.
Well, yes, quite, exactly.
The story must, I suppose, be apocryphal. Mmm.
How long have you known?
I have suspected for a long while.
Fully known it, a little while.
Months? Days.
And now you are going to expose me?
I have not yet decided what I'm going to do.
You can save yourself the trouble.
I shall leave Chesney Wold tonight,
and forever. No, you will not.
You will hear what I have to say.
Go on.
You must understand, Lady Dedlock,
that my sole consideration in this unhappy case is Sir Leicester.
Then why do you keep me from going away?
Because your flight would spread the whole truth far and wide.
It would be impossible to save the family credit for a day.
It is not to be thought of.
When I speak of Sir Leicester being the sole consideration,
he and the family credit are one.
Sir Leicester and the baronetcy,
Sir Leicester and his ancestors, Sir Leicester and Chesney Wold.
So. . .
This is to be hushed up, if it can be.
And how can it be if Sir Leicester is driven out of his wits or laid on his death-bed?
Go on.
My experience teaches me
that most people would do far better to leave marriage alone.
So I thought when Sir Leicester married,
so I have always thought since.
And, well. . .
what's done is done.
I must now ask you to keep your own counsel for the time being
about what we both know.
And I will keep mine.
I am to drag my present life out,
holding its pains at your pleasure, day by day?
I am afraid so, Lady Dedlock.
I am not sure that I could do that, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You must, Lady Dedlock.
For your husband's sake.
For the sake of the family honour. . .
you must.
Your flight would spread the whole truth far and wide
It will be impossible to save the family credit for a day
It is not to be thought of
Rosa, come here, child
Yes, m'lady?
What would you say if, after all,
I let Mr Rouncewell take you away and have you educated to be his son's wife?
I thought Your Ladyship wanted to keep me as long as possible But circumstances have changed
You do like Mr Rouncewell's son?
Yes, m'lady
I have been selfish wanting to keep you for myself
I shall be very sorry to lose you, Rosa
Dear Esther
Dearest Esther
My very dear girl
No
My very dear Esther
I hope what I write
will not come
as
too much of a surprise to you
I'm sorry, do I disturb you? No
No, not at all What is it, Esther?
Er
I should like your permission to make a short visit to London
You remember Caddy Jellyby, who married Mr Turveydrop from dancing school?
Well, she tells me she's going to have a baby Ah!
And Ada would like to come with me, of course She wants to see how Richard is getting on
So have we your permission?
Yes, yes !
I had hoped by now I
Well, never mind Esther, of course you have my permission
My very best wishes to young Mrs Turveydrop
Thank you
Damn!
I'm very sorry, Mr Tulkinghorn's engaged
FRENCH ACCENT: I will see him! I will! Let me pass!
I'm very sorry, Mr Tulkinghorn
I have had a great deal of trouble to find you, sir Have you?
He's not at home, he's engaged, he's this and that, he's not for you
Well, you're here now What have you to say?
Zat you have not used me well
You have been mean and shabby
I 'elped you to trap my mistress the dress the boy recognised You owe me something Mr Tulkinghorn!
My dear young woman, I owe you nothing You performed a service and you were paid for it.
You promised to 'elp me You said you would find me a good position
I said I would consider it
Having considered it, I decided against it,
because I judge your temperament to be too fiery to be suitable for a lady's maid
With a lady who was kind to me, I could be as meek as a queen dove
Ha ! I think not!
Then you will do nothing for me?
Nothing at all Then you had better beware !
No, YOU had better beware
If you come here again, you may find yourself taken by the police,
strapped on a board and carried through the streets for all to see
What do you think of that? I dare you to do it!
Don't put me to the test, young woman
Rubbish
Good day, Mr Smallweed Rent! Er
In due course, Mr Smallweed, as promised Now, or you're out!
Now we'll have some fun, Judy
Rubbish Rubbish
Rubbish !
Mr Smallweed,
I cannot make my key turn in the door Oh, dear
And why is that, I wonder( ? )
Cos I had the lock changed, that's why!
Mr Smallweed, you cannot do this to me ! Done it, ain't I ? Done it!
But my things, my
My poor little birds !
What have you done with them ? In the alley You're lucky I didn't wring their necks
You're lucky I didn't bite their little heads off!
Well, go on then Hook sling it!
No come backy!
But, Mr Smallweed, I
Where am I to go?
What do I care about that?
Who do you think I am , the Christmas Spirit?
Hop it! Out! One two, one two ! Judy, take the broom Chase her out
Right you are, Grandad
There she goes
Ooh Oh, my bones
Shake me up, Judy
So, as you see, we're managing very well
We've got more pupils than ever before, and Prince has taken on three apprentices,
and I've learned myself to play the piano well enough to get by
But how will you manage when the baby comes? But we will manage, somehow
I'm sure you will, Caddy
It was you who got me started on trying to make something out of myself
I'm ashamed to think of what I was like when you first met me,
unpolite and inky and not a good word to say to anybody!
Maybe you don't see much of a difference now, but if there is it's thanks to you, Esther
No!
No, you've done it yourself, Caddy
I wish I could say I'd done as much with my life as you have with yours
Oh !
Oh, Lord ! Mrs Guppy? Is Mr Guppy at home?
Mrs Guppy, may I come in?
Miss Summerson !
This is indeed an honour SNIGGERING Mother!
I took the liberty of sending you a note, Mr Guppy You did
And I have it here
Mother, please
I do beg your pardon, Miss Summerson
Perhaps I could speak to you alone for a moment Mother?
I came here rather than to the office because I did not want to cause you any embarrassment,
remembering what you said to me on another occasion
Oh Yes
Er
Forgive me, was you referring to the occasion when I , erm
made a declaration
( Oh, Lord ) Erm , I feel a little giddy
It's very hot and close in here
Where was I ? You were saying that you made a declaration, Mr Guppy,
a declaration of love, and a proposal of marriage Which you turned down You did
You won't object to admit that I don't object You proposed and I turned you down
There's no doubt about that Thank you, miss I , er
regret that my arrangements in life combined with circumstances beyond my control
will make it impossible for me ever to renew that offer in any shape or form
That's quite all right, Mr Guppy
I'm very sorry, truly I am ,
but it couldn't be Now, could it?
You know?
But the memory of it will stay with me
Mr Guppy, please stop I want to tell you why I came to see you
I beg your pardon Please do
When you asked me to marry you Which proposal has been repudiated
you also said that you might be able to help me by making enquiries into my birth and my ancestry Yes
Yes, and I have already made some discoveries I want you to stop,
Mr Guppy
I have been told all the circumstances of my birth,
so I would be very grateful if you would make no further enquiries
Is that all? Yes, Mr Guppy, that's all
Then, Miss Summerson,
upon my soul, you may rely upon me
in every respect
Esther! Ada ! What's the matter? I thought you were with Richard
I went to his lodgings at the time we arranged, but they said he'd gone out and they didn't know where
Where else but the court?
Another adjournment? Again, nothing done ! Nothing !
Nothing done ! No, no, sir
Don't say, "Nothing done, " sir That is scarcely fair
We have our shoulders to the wheel, and the wheel is going round
The wheel goes round, but it does need oiling from time to time
Yes, indeed Which reminds me, there are some bills for you to sign, Mr Carstone
Let's go this way It's just a short step to my chambers
Ada ! Esther!
Whatever are you doing here?
Oh, Lord, it was today, wasn't it?
Ada, I'm so sorry
It doesn't matter I've found you now Am I forgiven?
Excellent! Now, I know a very good place to eat The devils on horseback are the best in London
Do you know, I heard the most extraordinary thing from Tulkinghorn
What was that? Our neighbour Boythorn
has been entertaining Mr John Jarndyce and the wards in Jarndyce
And what should that be to us?
Well, Mr Jarndyce is an old friend of yours, I understand
They should have been entertained here, not at that fellow Boythorn's place
I'm sure that Mr Jarndyce wouldn't have felt slighted in the least by not being invited here
Well, I disagree
I have written to Mr Jarndyce to invite them all
Welcome back, welcome back! It's been a Bleak House indeed without you to brighten it!
I think the wind has been in the east since you went away
We weren't away for long I know, but you were very much missed, both of you
Now, when you're both ready, supper is on the table
We have received an invitation from a very august personage
Sir Leicester Dedlock has invited all three of us to stay at Chesney Wold What do you think of that?
Why should he invite us?
He knows we are friendly with Mr Boythorn, and he hates Mr Boythorn
I know I was astonished myself But, do you know,
there's a degree of acquaintance from the past Didn't you meet Lady Dedlock,
when you went to look at the ghost walk? You must have made a great impression on her
and that the invitation comes from her rather than Sir Leicester I'm sure it does not
You are not intending to accept, are you?
Why not?
I couldn't possibly go
Why not? If Sir Leicester thinks you're good enough for Chesney Wold, who are you to disagree? I can't go
Esther!
KNOCK AT DOOR
Esther
I've come to tell you why we
why I at any rate cannot go to Chesney Wold
It is a secret, but I think I must tell you
Go on
I am Lady Dedlock's daughter
She told me so herself, and she also told me that we must never meet again
So, you see,
the invitation
It couldn't possibly have come from her
Esther, Esther! Poor, dear girl!
You must not tell anyone else ! Of course I shan't tell anyone else
What a burden it must have been to keep that secret
Worse for her Yes
Perhaps
Esther
there is a secret I have kept from you all these years, but now I think you should know
The lady who brought you up,
who entrusted you to my care
was Lady Dedlock's sister
Her sister?
But didn't you ever suspect?
Not for a moment I did think you might have been HER child, the sister's
That would have explained why she broke off with Boythorn so suddenly
So she sacrificed her life for me
I wish she had not
She never loved me
She was right it would have been better if I had never been born
But then, I would never have known you
would I ?
You have filled my life with joy
But you have changed my life, too Esther, let me go on now, or I shall never manage it
Our lives are changing
Rick has already left Bleak House, and Ada will not be with us much longer
But I hope
that you will want to stay here
with me
Yes, of course, if you wish it
Will you stay here
as the mistress of Bleak House?
As my wife?
I know the world will say I am far too old to offer myself as a husband for a young girl,
but I can't help what I feel, and I care for your feelings much more than the world's
There I've said it
I love you, Esther
Will you be my wife?
May I think about it for a little while?
Of course ! Of course
As long as you like
Thank you
You tell your policemen to seize me on the street and bring me here when I have done no crime
What justice is this?
You've been annoying respectable citizens, mademoiselle
It seems a friendly warning might be in order Who gives you your orders?
Is it my lady? Or is it that devil Tulkinghorn?
They are both as bad as each other
This is a free country! Where is liberate, egalite, fraternite?
You forget, mademoiselle, we haven't had no revolution here
I must ask you to write down your present address on this paper
so we can keep an eye on you
Unless you prefer to be clapped in irons tout de suite
All the same to me You're as bad as the worst of them Give me the pen
There
Much obliged, mademoiselle And that is all? I can go now?
Yes
Yes, I will
Aren't we all quiet this morning?
This is delicious, Esther No one makes blackberry jelly like yours Oh, indeed
Is something the matter? No, nothing's the matter
That is
Esther, could you come and see me in the growlery in a little while? Yes, of course
What is it? What's she done? Has she got the accounts all wrong?
No ! Nothing like that, Ada
I hate secrets
So do I
Why didn't you tell her?
Tell her what, exactly?
That we are engaged to be married
I wasn't sure I Esther, I have had an anxious night of it
Are you sure this is what you really want?
Yes !
Or I would not have said so
You wouldn't have rather carried on as we were?
I WAS surprised when you asked me to marry you
You thought of me as a father
rather than as a lover Yes
But now I think I could learn to think about you in that other way
Truly? Yes
Truly
I don't know what marriage is like
I think perhaps no one does until they try it
And I think that you and I may do as well as others at it
Dear Esther!
But all the same,
I think you need time to accustom yourself to the idea,
and so for now I think it's best if we continue as we were
At least, that is, as far as others are concerned
And not tell Ada Not for the present If you should change your mind I shan't go back on my word!
Humour me in this, Esther
Very well
And now I have my work to do
What an inspiring sight!
Captain Carstone ! And where is it to be now, hmm ?
China? The West Indies?
The Hindu Kush? We shall be quartered at Deal for the time being
Oh Not TOO dangerous, then !
Not dangerous at all
Except to the pocket
I've been wondering whether it might be best to sell out,
after all
Dear me I am sorry to hear that, Mr Carstone
Well, there are so many expenses Mess bills, stabling
one or two debts of honour
Ah, yes Regarding which, if you would be so good as to
Thank you If I could only have some assurance of a speedy settlement
Ah, Mr Carstone
you know me, I think
I am not the man to give assurances when the facts are not certain
Ah, what a man, eh?
What a fellow What integrity!
Yes
Yes, you're a good man, Mr Vholes, a true friend
SHOULD I sell out, do you think?
You might think that the best course
You might very well think that
But I would not wish to influence you one way or the other
I am afraid that he has no present means at all
Even if he sells out, that money will be eaten up in debts he has incurred in the service
Meanwhile, I have three daughters to support
and an aged father in the Vale of Taunton
How are they to be fed?
Now you mention it,
I've always found an application to Mr John Jarndyce rarely goes amiss
But Mr Carstone has broken with him , has he not?
Perhaps he has
But I fancy my friend Jarndyce has not broken with HIM
# Oh, what care I for house and land?
# What care I for treasure oh?
# What care I for my newly wedded lord?
# I'm away with the raggle taggle Gypsies oh #
Very pretty
Sir!
You startled me
You like your work here, Rosa? Yes, sir
My lady is kind to you?
Very kind, sir
She is fond of you, I think Rosa?
My lady!
Rosa, will you fetch my book?
I think it is in the little sitting room Yes, m'lady
What were you saying to her?
Nothing
Merely passing the time of day
I don't like your speaking to her
She is a very agreeable young woman,
and I believe she loves you dearly
I wonder what she would think of you if she heard of your disgrace
You will have to forgo that pleasure, Mr Tulkinghorn, as I have decided to send her away
No, you will not do that
Do you presume to tell me how to run my household?
We have an agreement, you and I
You will not draw attention to yourself by doing anything out of the ordinary
I understand that you wish to protect your little favourite from the taint of association with you,
but it will not do, Lady Dedlock
If any action is to be taken, I will decide what and when
Not you
Oh, my bones !
Go steady, there, you brimstone beasts ! Let me out, you Ooh
Judy, shake me up
Afternoon, Mr Smallweed
What brings you here? Just a friendly call, George
How's business? Quiet
That's a pity I've come to call in your debt, George
What are you talking about? That debt was settled, and you know it
Oh, no, George, I don't think it was
Settled? No, no, no, no Look here £2 43 7 s 2d and 3 farthings still owing
Your memory must be playing tricks on you, my old friend You promised me if I supplied a letter
with the Captain's writing on it it would put me straight and clear, and I did it Against my conscience
And now you tell me I'm not straight and clear after all? That's about the size of it
Cruel world, innit?
You little bloodsucker, I'll give you "cruel world"
I'll snap your neck for you ! That debt was settled, and you know it
No, George, it's not me, it's him ! I'm just the messenger! He sent me to tell you
Who sent ya? Oh, my bones!
For pity's sake, George !
Mr Tulkinghorn