(FAINT CHATTER FROM NEARBY)
Molly!
Molly, you'll miss the party.
How do you do? How do you do? Very good to see you.
And you.
Oh, my goodness...
(WHISPERS)
You go outside. Go outside.
- Clare, who's that little girl? - Oh, dear...
Poor little woman. She must have lost herself.
- Who do you belong to, child? - I'm Molly Gibson, please.
- I came with the Miss Brownings. - Hollingford people. I see.
She's very pale, Clare.
Take her into the house and let her lie down in your room.
- I'll send in some food for her. - Yes, of course, Lady Harriet.
Come, dear.
Take your shoes off and lie on the bed.
See what kind Lady Harriet has sent for you. Will you take a little? No?
Perhaps later..when you've had a little rest.
Please, ma'am, don't let them go without me. I'm to go back with the Miss Brownings.
Don't trouble yourself, dear. I'll take care.
(MAN) Au revoir, mes amis.
(CHATTER)
Did you see Pecksy's and Flapsy's hats? They looked so comical.
Well, at least that's over for another year.
It's turning quite chilly. Clare, get me my shawl.
Oh, bless us and save us. What's this in the bed?
I'm Molly Gibson, please.
Oh... Why, I quite forgot about you.
Never mind. You can stay for supper and go home in the morning.
But I must go home. My father will want me, I make his tea for him.
Well, it can't be helped now.
You shouldn't have oversle yourself in a strange house. Oh, come, don't cry.
I have a little girl who could think of nothing better than to stay in such a fine house,
but I have to leave her at home when I come here.
All will be well, little one.
Brush your hair and come down and have dessert with the other children.
Who's that creature in the plain white frock? She looks quite wild and strange.
French, I dare say. One can get them for the children. Accents and so on.
Bon soir, ma petite, comment tu t'appelles?
I don't know French, ma'am. I'm only Molly Gibson.
Ah, Gibson. I know, the doctor's child.
Oh, oh, I know all about you, little woman. Ho ho ho.
Who's been sleeping in my bed, eh?
What? Who's been sleeping in my bed? Ho ho ho.
Well, little Goldilocks, what have you to say in your defence?
If you please, my Lord, it was the lady they call Clare's bed, not your Lordship's.
- I stand rebuked, I stand rebuked. - Her father is here.
You can make your escape, little woman.
I dare say she'll be happier at home.
(SCOTTISH ACCENT) So, what did you think of life among the rich folks?
They were kind to me, but I hope I never have to go again.
Nor shall you, Goosey, if you don't want to.
I'm so glad you came for me.
Papa, I should like to get a long chain and fasten us to each end of it.
Then we could never lose each other.
So I'm to go about the country like a donkey with a clog tied to my leg, is that it?
I wouldn't mind being a clog so long as we were fastened together.
Not so sure I'd care to be the donkey. (MOLLY GIGGLES)
Molly!
- Molly, love. - Coming.
(DOOR OPENS)
And these as well, if you would, gentlemen. Before I return.
- D'you reckon I've any chance with her, Tom? - Why ask me? How should I know?
(CHATTER AND LAUGHTER)
She truly is the loveliest girl.
(SIGHS)
(DISTANT PIANO)
- Maria. - Yes, sir?
(INAUDIBLE WHISPER)
(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)
Maria, come here. Maria?
- Give me that note. - But it's for Miss Molly, sir.
- He said I should give it into her own hands. - Then you shall.
Molly? Molly! (PIANO STOPS)
You're home early. Shall I get you some tea?
- What is it? - Give her the note, Maria, then you may go.
- Have you any idea who that might be from? - No.
Good. Give it to me.
Off you go, Goosey, back to your scales.
- Am I not to know who it's from? - Not at present.
My pupils and I are engaged in an ethical debate, Molly.
Mr Coxe here was arguing for "kill or cure."
If we cannot recover the patient, we should put him out of his misery.
- Oh, indeed, sir, I didn't quite say that. - Well, you implied that, Mr Coxe.
And look how you've shocked poor Mr Wynne.
- Mr Wynne disapproves of homicide, I believe. - Of course I do, sir.
My own view is that it doesn't do to make away with profitable patients.
As long as they pay their two and six a visit it's our duty to keep them alive as long as possible.
If they can't pay, that's an entirely different matter.
- But, sir... - Father.
What?
Mr Wynne, you know Father sees old Mrs Grant every day,
who hasn't got a penny and she has the most expensive medicine that can be got.
Well, even I find it difficult to live up to my precepts all the time.
Never mind, Mr Wynne, your virtue does you credit.
Some men have no principles at all.
Well, gentlemen, time to get back to your slavery.
Master Coxe, I have a prescription for you.
Beg your pardon, sir?
One ounce of modesty, two ounces of duty, one grain of deference,
taken three times per day in aqua pura.
That should cool the burning passion which I understand you to be suffering from.
I don't think it was the conduct of a gentleman, sir,
to intercept my letter and open it and read words that were never addressed to you.
If you had told me that you loved my daughter, that would have been honourable.
Now I must write to your father and ask him to remove you from my household.
I beg you wouldn't do that, sir. I should've told you, sir, but...
Well, I knew you'd be angry with me and forbid it.
And I do love Miss Gibson, sir, very dearly. Who could help it?
Well...
By accident or design, you've managed to say the right thing for once.
Can I take it that this letter is your first attempt? She's unaware of your passion otherwise?
- Yes, sir. - Good.
Now, listen to me, Mr Coxe. This is a motherless girl of barely seventeen.
She's too young for all this and it is not what you are here for.
If you could give me your word that there'll be no more of this nonsense,
then perhaps I'll reconsider and let you stay. Do you understand?
- Yes, sir. - Good.
In any case, my daughter is leaving us very soon
to pay an extended visit to Squire and Mrs Hamley...
at Hamley Hall.
This afternoon?
- Why, don't you want to go, Goosey? - I don't know.
- I was never away without you before. - Well, everything must have a beginning.
Mrs Hamley has been asking to meet you for a long time.
She's not well, poor lady, and I think that I just must be unselfish.
But why must it all be so sudden?
It's something to do with that note.
- And you don't want to tell me the reason. - You're a witch, Goosey.
I've got a good reason and I know you'll be a good girl and trust me on it.
I haven't any gowns fit to wear.
Well, how is a man to know when his daughter needs clothes?
Go to Miss Rose's and get whatever you need in the way of frocks and hats.
- Miss Rose's? - Well...
Seems you're a young woman now and you have to learn to run up bills with the best of them.
- Here's ten pounds... - Ten pounds?
Pray, don't thank me. I don't want the money spent and I don't want you to go and leave me.
- Papa, you're getting mysterious again. - Now go away and spend your ten pounds.
What did I give it to you for but to keep you quiet?
Afternoon, Miss. Come this way, if you please.
Miss Gibson, ma'am.
Come... Molly. May I call you Molly?
- Yes, please, I wish you would. - How good of you to come.
Let me look at you.
Good. I think we shall be great friends. I like your face.
Come, let me show you where you are to sleep.
- Your room, my dear. - I like it very much.
I've had you put close to me. I thought you'd like it better, though the room's not large.
- Are...are those your sons, Mrs Hamley? - Yes. Well guessed.
That's Osborne seated and Roger standing.
Of course, they're grown now. They're both up at Cambridge.
Osborne's very brilliant and expected to get a fellowship.
I like their faces. You must miss them very much when they're away.
Oh, yes, I do.
That's why...I'm so happy to have you staying with us.
Oh...I see you've brought your sewing with you, like a good girl.
I don't sew much.
I read a great deal.
- Do you like reading, too? - Yes.
Well, it depends on the sort of book.
I'm afraid I don't much like "steady reading," as Papa calls it.
- Do you like poetry? - Oh, yes, I do like poetry.
Then I must show you some of Osborne's one day.
Mr Osborne Hamley?
- Is he a poet? - Yes, I really think I could say he's a poet.
- He's very...handsome. - Yes.
He was a beautiful boy and he's grown into a beautiful young man.
Roger was never to be compared with him.
Well, I like his face, but... he isn't like Mr Osborne at all, is he?
No, and he is not likely to have such a brilliant career.
But he's a good, dear fellow, for all that.
- Harry! - Here, sir. Here, sir.
Get in, get in, the lot of you.
God bless my soul. I'd forgotten all about you.
You're Gibson's daughter, aren't you, come to pay us a visit? I remember.
Well, I must say I'm glad to see you, my dear. Very glad indeed.
Well, well, well...
- Settled in all right, have you? - Yes, thank you, sir.
Well, I must go and dress. Can't go in like this, Madam wouldn't like it.
You see, she's broken me in to her fine London ways.
And I'm all the better for it, I dare say.
Now, see this? Tomorrow I shall have you do this for me, Miss Gibson.
- Well, I'll do it tonight if you like, sir. - No, no. Today you're a visitor.
Tomorrow I'll send you on errands and call you by your Christian name.
- Molly, is it? - Yes.
I was christened Mary, but Mama was Mary, so I was called Molly while she lived and...
- So I still am. - Ah, yes, your mama, poor thing.
I remember how sorry everyone was when she died.
No one thought she was delicate. She had such a fresh colour.
Then all at once she just popped off, as you might say.
(MRS HAMLEY) It must have been a terrible blow to your father.
But I would've thought he'd have married again by now, wouldn't you?
Well, perhaps I'd better not have said it, but it's the truth.
Everyone thought he would, but he didn't.
And I don't suppose he's likely to now. He's past forty, isn't he?
- I never thought he might want to marry again. - Molly, my dear, really...
You shouldn't mind what the Squire says.
(MRS HAMLEY) Your father seems to me just like the sort of man
who would remain constant to the memory of his wife.
- Principles of genealogy. It's a rather wild idea. - Wilder than Lamarck's?
I did come round to Lamarck's ideas. Animals adapt.
What, that ducks get webbed feet because they swim?
It tickled me at first, but a doctor knows more about membranes than that.
Pretty persuasive in an odd kind of way, though. It could be...
Ah...
Lord Hollingford, I'm to bring Mr Gibson to your mother.
Oh, you remember Mrs Kirkpatrick?
Come and find me before you leave. I'll be in the lab.
But surely..we've...
I expect you remember me as Miss Clare. I was here years ago as the girls' governess.
Oh, yes, and you caught scarlet fever when they did, I remember.
- We were both much younger then. - Oh, yes, indeed.
Er, well, I was thinking of myself.
Oh, come, Mr Gibson, if you were much younger, then so was I.
- Is Mr Kirkpatrick here with you? - Oh, no.
No, I'm afraid Alfred died a long while ago, when our little girl was only four.
Indeed.
I have a school at Ashcombe now and it's a summer holiday,
so when Lady Cumnor needed a companion I was able to come.
And of course, she asked for me particularly,
and I'm never happier than when I'm at the Towers.
I think you met my little Molly here on one of your visits.
Yes. Yes, indeed.
I can still see her sweet face on my pillow.
You were very kind to her, I believe. I wished I could thank you at the time.
There's a slight irregularity, but nothing to cause concern, Lady Cumnor.
I'll make up a draught for you to take at night.
Apart from that, plenty of light dishes, nothing too rich, no game and no strong cheese.
Try to walk every day, half a mile, no more. And don't sit up too late at night. And that's all.
Thank you, Mr Gibson.
Such a pleasure being told what to do for once.
No, no, no...
How, um...
How do you find Clare, now that you see her again? Do you think she looks well?
Very well indeed. The years have been kinder to her than they have to me, I think.
Oh, don't despair with yourself, Mr Gibson.
Ladies like an active man, such as yourself, to look a little weather-beaten.
Clare's had a difficult time of it, you know, and managed very bravely,
bringing up a daughter single-handed - as you have yourself, indeed.
How is she getting on, that little woman of yours?
Well enough, I think.
But it's been borne in of me of late how much she misses by not having a mother's care.
Even Lord Hollingford said something of the sort in passing the other day.
Indeed.
Perhaps I've been selfish thinking I could give the girl all she needs
in the way of care and affection and guidance in life.
You know, her happiness means more to me than anything.
Well, perhaps her happiness and your comfort might be secured by the same means.
Aye... Perhaps they might.
Ah, look, there he goes. Look, a heron.
I've never seen a heron before, only in pictures.
Rooks don't like him. Rooks and herons are always at war.
If my boy Roger was with us he'd tell you a deal of things like that.
You could show him a cobweb and he'd tell you what sort of spider made it.
- Really? - Mmm.
It's a pity they don't reckon such things at the university.
If they did, Roger would be top of the class.
But Mr Osborne Hamley is very clever, isn't he?
Oh, yes, Osborne's a bit of a genius. I was saying at the magistrate's meeting:
"I've got a son who'll make a noise at Cambridge or I'm very much mistaken."
- Mrs Hamley let me read his poems. - Did she? Did she?
- And did you like them? - Oh, yes.
I can't be reading poetry myself.
I understand they're very good, very deep, you know, but...
Roger's a good lad too, you know. A good steady lad.
(WORKMAN) I'll mark a line from here to here.
Ah, there's my pet project. I'm going to drain all that land yonder.
Good work for the men, good work for the land. Something to leave behind me when I'm gone.
Well, that's what we're here for, we're told.
Leave the world a better place than the way we found it, eh?
(SQUIRE HAMLEY) Dammit! What's the blessed boy about?
I was told he's as good as won it already.
(MAN) I'm afraid he didn't do well enough in his examination.
(SQUIRE) He said himself he was sure to be high up among the rankers,
or whatever you call 'em. By jibs an' all.
- How could he have gone and failed it? - He didn't fail.
(WHISPERS) Molly, come here, my love.
You mustn't let it upset you. He'll soon be himself again.
Roger's returned to tell us that Osborne has done very poorly in his examination.
It's quite unexpected and the Squire has taken it very badly.
He doesn't understand about Cambridge. He was never at college himself. Oh...
Poor, poor Osborne.
But he can sit again, can't he? One failure isn't the end of everything.
Of course, you're quite right. But Roger says he has very little chance of a fellowship.
And the Squire...
He'd put all his hopes on that.
I don't think Mr Roger should've told.
He had no need to begin so soon about his brother's failure.
No, my dear, you don't understand. Roger is a good boy.
But it's such a comfort having you here, child.
And you being a fourth at dinner is a blessing, too.
At times like this a stranger in the house is a wonderful help.
(SQUIRE) Get out of me sight!
(CLOCK CHIMES)
Fetch a bottle of Burgundy with the yellow seal, Robinson.
If you please, sir, there's not above six bottles of that left.
- It's Mr Osborne's favourite. - Fetch a bottle of it as I told you.
Yes, sir.
Mr Osborne's likes and dislikes have been law in this house long enough, in my opinion.
How is your father, Miss Gibson?
And when he next deigns to favour us with his company, I shall tell him so meself.
- Your father is well? - Yes. Quite well, thank you.
I shall look forward to having a talk with him when he has time.
He's the cleverest man in the county, I think.
And has the best science library, apart from Lord Hollingford, of course.
Oh, he's a good man, Gibson.
Never felt the need to go to Cambridge and dash his family's hopes.
- My dear... - Well...
I don't suppose he failed his tripos, or whatever you call it, on purpose.
But he might have had the courage to come home and tell us so himself,
instead of leaving poor Roger there to bear the brunt of it.
Perhaps that's what he meant to do if given the chance.
I didn't get any pleasure from it, Miss Gibson, if that's what you imagine.
I wish it had been I that failed my examination, rather than Osborne,
for then no one would have taken it amiss.
That's an unusual dress, Molly.
- Is it the tartan of your father's clan perhaps? - No.
Papa said it was not like any proper tartan he'd seen.
He said it was quite outlandish.
But Miss Rose said it was very popular last season in London.
Well, I think it's very pretty.
- Don't you, Roger? - Very.
(THUNDER)
(THUNDER CONTINUES)
Seems a shame to wake her.
Yes, very well.
- I can call back later. - Oh...
Oh, but you mustn't leave in this rain.
- Stormy weather. - Yes.
Cynthia, my daughter, sends word that for two days last week
the packet could not sail from Boulogne.
- Miss Kirkpatrick is at Boulogne? - Yes.
Yes, she's been there for two years, poor soul. She's learning French, amongst other things.
Cynthia is a...it's a very romantic name. It's hardly fit for everyday use.
(CHUCKLES) It was my name, Mr Gibson. She was named for me.
I was called Hyacinth Clare.
And once upon a time I found that name... well, I was very proud of it.
And other people found it pretty, too. But perhaps you're right.
Such a flowery name might excite prejudice in some.
And, poor child, she's going to have enough to struggle with in her life.
A young daughter is a great charge when there's only one parent to take care of her.
Aye, it's hard for a child to be fatherless, but...
But to be motherless, now...
Might that not be a greater misfortune for a young girl?
I'm sure your Molly is most fortunate to have a father so devoted to her happiness.
You're very kind, but even so, I...
I cannot be mother and father to her.
And now, just now, she's becoming a woman.
Yes, she must be near my Cynthia's age.
- How I should love to see her. - I hope you will.
I should like you to see her.
I should like you to... to love my poor little Molly.
- To love her as your own. - Oh...
Could you? Could you love her as your daughter? Will you try?
May I introduce you to her as her future mother?
- As my wife? - Oh, Mr Gibson.
Oh, my dear.
My dearest.
Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so happy.
If you only knew what a long, lonely struggle it has been for me.
Miss Clare, that struggle is a thing of the past.
Call me Hyacinth. I hate "Clare."
It reminds me of being a governess and those days are gone at last. Aren't they?
- They are, my dearest, they're gone forever. - Then call me Hyacinth.
Oh, your own...dear Hyacinth.
Molly?
Papa?
Papa!
- I was afraid you were unwell. - No, I'm very well.
But I woke so very early this morning and I was out in the fields and it got too hot.
I meant to watch for you, truly I did.
How are you? How is everyone? Miss Browning? Miss Phoebe?
Do you know, Papa, I don't think you're looking well.
I don't look well? That must be all your fancy, Goosey.
I am well. In fact, I am uncommonly well.
Still, you need me at home to take care of you.
I do like it here and everyone is very kind.
What is it? Is it something bad?
Not at all. I have a piece of news for you.
- Can you guess what it is? - How should I?
Well, my love, I think you have felt, as I have, the difficulty of your situation.
Of a girl growing up, and you have felt the lack, as I have, of...
- You're going to be married again. - Yes.
To Mrs Kirkpatrick.
Remember? They called her Clare at the Towers.
You recollect how kind she was to you that day you were left there?
She's a very suitable age for me and she has very agreeable and polished manners,
so you and I will have to watch our Ps and Qs, Goosey.
And last but not least, she has a daughter about your age,
who will come and live with us and be a sister for you.
So that's why I was sent away -
so that all this could be quietly arranged in my absence.
Papa, if you would only come back.
Miss Gibson?
Oh...
Is it lunchtime?
I don't know. It must be nearly. I was on my way home to lunch.
But, look, you're in distress. Has something happened?
Can I be of any help?
I don't mean to intrude. If you'd rather be alone just say so and I'll go at once.
No, it's all right.
I don't mind.
- Then shall we walk back together? - No, um...
There's nothing.
Please don't wait for me, I...
I shall be all right in a little while.
No, I think I should...
My father is going to marry again.
- And you're sorry for it? - Yes.
(SOBS)
You know, it must be very hard for a man to go through life without companionship -
- Female companionship. - He had me.
You don't know what we were to each other.
At least what he was to me.
Still, he must have thought it for the best.
Perhaps for your sake even more than for his own.
That's what he tried to convince me of.
Do you know the woman he's engaged himself to?
No.
Well, that is...
I met her once when I was a little girl. Everybody said she was kind to me.
She let me rest on her bed and then she forgot all about me.
I don't think she cares for other people very much at all.
Miss Gibson... Molly...
You probably won't like me for saying this, but...
It doesn't do any good to prejudge people. Especially on the bad side.
We have to give things a chance to turn out well.
It might be for the best after all, you know.
Do you like my sermons?
Have they given you an appetite for lunch?
Come.
I do know what you must be feeling. You must have thought me very hard on you.
I'm not very good at expressing myself. Somehow I always fall into philosophising.
But I do feel very sorry for you and I shall often be thinking of you.
Though I dare say it's best not to speak of it again.
Come and have a look.
That's one of the tiny creatures I fished out of the pond this morning.
(ROGER) Can you see?
(MOLLY) How strange it looks.
(ROGER) We should all look pretty strange under a microscope.
Yes.
I expect we would.
(MRS HAMLEY) Ah, Molly. There you are.
Oh, Mrs Hamley, I did behave so badly to my father this morning.
Never mind, child.
You can make all well tomorrow.
(MOLLY SOBS)
(HORSE'S HOOVES)
Morning, sir. Fine day.
Thank you, sir. Go on.
- Oh, Papa... - There, there, Goosey, that'll do.
I know all that you want to say.
- And you really, truly forgive me? - It's all forgotten, Goosey.
Now, I've brought you an invitation.
Lady Cumnor wants you to go and spend an afternoon at the Towers.
Oh, must I go?
I want you and Hyacinth to get to know each other, since she's to be your mother.
- Hyacinth? - I know, it's the silliest name I ever heard.
But it's hers and I must call her by it.
And the worse is, she's named her daughter after her: Cynthia.
Now, the wedding is at Michaelmas and Cynthia is to come for it.
And that's why I want you to get to know Hyacinth now.
And learn to love each other.
Molly.
Darling Molly, I can't tell you how I've been looking forward to this.
Come, come and sit down and let me look at you.
What eyes. So like your dear father.
You must know how nervous I feel, so you'll help me, won't you?
I know how much he loves you and we'll love each other too, won't we, for his sake?
I'll try.
Oh, so like him. The same hair.
- Papa's is going grey. - Is it? I never see it.
I shall never see it. To me, he'll always be the handsomest of men.
Oh, and he's so fond of you, dear.
You don't know how he speaks of you. Sometimes I'm almost jealous.
We'll make him so happy. Hmm?
And you must tell me all his little likes and dislikes, because you must know them.
And you must be my little friend and helper.
I don't think he's so particular about a lot of things.
But there is one thing he's very fidgety about.
He likes his meals to be very punctual.
He's often had a long ride and there's another long ride to come.
Sometimes he only has half an hour or even less to eat his dinner in.
Thank you. Thank you, my own love, that's just the sort of thing I mean.
He doesn't care what he has, so long as it's ready.
He'd as soon eat bread and cheese as anything else.
Bread and cheese? Mr Gibson eats cheese?
Yes. He's very fond of it.
Mmm, then we'll soon cure him of that.
It's so coarse and strong-smelling. I can't abide the smell of cheese,
and I know that he'd be sorry to annoy me.
- But Papa has always... - Yes, my love?
Tell me about Cynthia. When is she to come?
Oh, well, I know your father's begged for her to come to the wedding,
but I think we should think about it just a little bit before quite fixing it.
I do so want to see her. Is she very clever and accomplished?
She ought to be. I've spent ever so much money...
Well, Lord Cumnor has, on having her taught by the best masters.
My little daughter, Lady Cumnor.
Nonsense, Clare. She's not your daughter yet and may never be.
One third of the engagements I have ever heard of never came to marriages.
Well, my dear, I'm glad to see you for your father's sake.
And when I get to know you better, I hope it will be for your own.
Mmm. I like her looks, Clare.
You might make something very good of her.
Why don't you take her back to the school at Ashcombe
and let her stay with you until the wedding? Now, is that a capital scheme or is it not?
Oh, but my Lady, I...
I don't think it would be nice at all.
I mean, my Lady, I should dislike it very much.
It would take me away from Papa just these very few last weeks we have together.
Oh, she expresses herself very frankly.
Not but what there's a good deal of truth in what she says.
It must be very disagreeable, my dear, to have a stepmother
coming between your father and yourself.
I see that, whatever the advantages in the long run.
She knows her own mind, Clare. I think you will have your work cut out there.
How are you? Was it a very trying day?
- I thought about you, more than once. - Thank you.
I did try to remember what you said and to think more of others, but...
- But it's so difficult. - I know.
But you know you'll be happier for it by and by.
No, I shan't.
And if I'm to kill myself trying to think and behave as other people want me to,
I feel I might as well never have lived.
And as for the happiness you speak of... Well, I shall never be happy again.
Good day, Mr Gibson.
Miss Browning.
Miss Phoebe. I...
I hardly know where to start, but...
As you were both such old and dear friends of my wife, Mary,
and are so kind to Molly...
How is dear Molly? She's been gone away such a long time.
Well, it was necessary, I'm afraid. Thank you.
One of my young men, Mr Coxe, fancied himself in love with her.
Heavens. And has she got over Mr Coxe?
- Well, he has got over her, I hope, and left us. - Oh, I do like hearing of a love affair.
If you'll just let me get on, then you shall hear of mine.
- Yours? - Bless us and save us. What next?
My marriage, I hope.
And that is what I have come to speak to you about.
It seemed to me that my house needed a mistress again.
- And that Molly needed a mother's care. - Quite right, Mr Gibson.
Of course, it's been an anxious thing for me to decide who I should ask.
The lady that I have chosen...
Tell us at once who she is, there's a good man.
Mrs Kirkpatrick, who used to be governess at the Towers.
Oh...
Well, she... she is a very elegant-looking woman.
Nonsense, sister. What's elegance got to do with it?
Men don't marry women for their elegance. Not widowers, at any rate.
So what was the favour you came to ask for, Mr Gibson?
Do sit still, Phoebe.
I wanted to ask if you'll have Molly to stay
while Mrs Gibson and I are on our wedding journey.
Well, you might have asked us last time, before you asked Madam Hamley.
We're your old friends, and her mother's friends, too,
although we're not county folk, who you like to spend all your time with nowadays.
- That's unjust and you know it, Miss Browning. - Well, maybe it is and maybe it isn't.
But at all events...
Of course little Molly may stay with us, as long as she likes.
Yes, as long as she likes.
- Oh... - There's no call for sighing, Phoebe.
I don't know how you could ever have got the notion that Mr Gibson would think of you.
- Good morning, my Lord. - Morning, Preston.
Mrs Kirkpatrick...
Such a happy day for you. Pity Miss Kirkpatrick will miss the wedding.
She would have been a charming addition to the bridal party.
- Poor Cynthia could not be spared from school. - Dommage.
Ah, Clare...
Oh, you are looking very pretty. Come along in.
That's the idea. Oh, don't crease your dress now. Put it over my knees, I shan't mind.
Going to a wedding, who minds anything? Different if we were going to a funeral, what?
Miss Gibson?
Thank you.
- When will Miss Kirkpatrick be back? - I don't know.
- What is she like? - Very beautiful.
I expect she's very clever and accomplished, too, isn't she?
I suppose she is, yes.
You see, she has such a charm about her that one forgets what she herself is
in the halo that surrounds her.
Oh...
Lady Harriet.
I think I have the advantage of you, Miss Gibson. I met you once when you were just a child.
I've come as an amateur bridesmaid to help you out.
Go on, walk on.
I dare say it's something of a trial for you, this second marriage of your father's.
- I wonder how you'll all get on together? - So do I.
Well, from my experience, if you're a very good girl and suffer yourself to be led,
you will find your new stepmother the sweetest creature imaginable.
I never managed it, but you might.
I was hoping Cynthia would be here for the wedding.
Oh, the daughter? Yes, so was she, I dare say.
But I understand she's grown into a great beauty these last years.
Perhaps her mama wished her a little younger or less pretty.
That's a wicked thought.
Whoever heard of a mother jealous of her own daughter?
I'm sure there must be some other reason.
Who is that man?
Papa has asked Mr Preston to stand witness. He's his land agent here in Ashcombe.
I've an instinctive aversion to him.
He does his duty by Papa, but don't allow him ever to get intimate with you.
What shall you be doing while the happy couple are on their wedding journey?
- Oh, I'm staying with the Miss Brownings. - Oh, really?
I know them very well. Pecksy and Flapsy I call them.
They're such comical creatures with their attempts at gentility,
quacking and flapping about.
- I shall come and call on you there. - No, don't.
- Please, I beg you would not. - Why ever not?
Because...
Because I don't think you should speak of the class I belong to
as if it were some strange kind of animal to make fun of.
- But I don't think of you in that way, Molly. - But I am that sort of person.
And I don't think you should come and call on me at the Miss Brownings'
if you're going to laugh at them, call them names.
I'm sorry, my Lady, I don't mean to be disrespectful.
No, you're quite right. I don't regret a word I said about that man Preston,
but as for the Miss Brownings, I'm very sorry indeed if I offended you or them.
Will you forgive me, if I promise to mend my ways?
Yes, of course I will, if you really mean it.
I do. I feel very chastened. Truly.
Thank you, James.
(INAUDIBLE CHATTING)
Lady Harriet. Quite an honour.
But we have had our own excitement while you were away.
Mr Roger Hamley paid a visit and he was asking most kindly after you, Molly.
And he brought you that over there. I wouldn't touch the horrid thing.
- Oh, a wasps' nest. - Wasps' nest indeed.
Either he or you or both of you must be crazy.
Did you know there are over a hundred different kinds of wasp in England alone?
He told me all about them one day.
More to the point, he brought a note from Mrs Hamley,
asking if we could spare you on Thursday.
The men are all going to the Agricultural Show, Mr Osborne as well,
for he's at home just now, and she wanted you to keep her company.
- And may I go? - To be sure, my dear.
(MOLLY READS) The pleasure stirs the maddening soul
The heart, the heart is lonely still.
Fain would I fly the haunts of men
I seek to shun, not hate mankind
My breast requires the sullen glen
Whose gloom may suit a darkened mind
Oh, that to me the wings were given
Which bear the turtle to her nest.
- Then... - Then would I cleave the vault of heaven
To flee away and be at rest.
- Osborne. Back so soon? - I'm afraid so, Mother.
Bullocks just aren't in my line, I find.
Molly, this fellow is my son, Osborne.
So, Miss Gibson, you're fond of Byron, are you?
Yes, and Mrs Hamley showed me some of your poems, too.
- Oh, did she? And what did you think of them? - I thought they were very beautiful.
- Did you truly? - Yes, of course, or I wouldn't have said so.
Not like the rest of the world, then? Good, I like that.
(OSBORNE) Oh, I meant to tell you, "sullen glen" reminded me.
I spent a day in Haycraft's studio.
I wish you'd come and see his new work. You'd like him, too.
He talks as well as he paints.
Oh, I'd love to, Osborne.
- But your father frets so if I go away. - Well, let him fret. Indulge yourself.
- What do you think, Miss Gibson? - I don't think it's fair to ask me.
Oh, you don't? I beg your pardon, then.
Osborne. Why couldn't you tell us you were coming home?
Sorry, Father, I didn't think you'd miss me.
Roger missed half his dinner hunting for you.
I didn't mind it, sir. I said we'd find him here.
- Mind on higher things, no doubt. - Well, I wouldn't necessarily say that, sir.
- Good day? - Very good.
I saw the prettiest little Jersey heifer I've ever clapped eyes on.
Nearly brought her home for you.
How are you getting on with Huber's book?
- Oh, Byron. - I am reading about the bees as well.
- But Byron is more congenial. - There's no contest.
(CLOCK CHIMES)
Anything else, Molly, love?
Don't want new missus to think we can't do things right here.
No, I don't think so, Betty. It all looks very nice, I think.
I should hope so, too. And if she don't like it, she can go elsewhere.
(HORSE AND CARRIAGE APPROACHING)
Well, Molly.
Oh...
Betty...
Oh... Oh, very nice.
Molly, my dear, show your mama to her room.
I've ordered a sort of tea-dinner for you. Shouldn't you like to have that first?
Oh, dear, I'm not sure that I'm not too fatigued to eat. Journeys do tire me so.
But one mustn't think about oneself, so perhaps I will take just a little something.
- What is it, my dear? - I'm sorry, Hyacinth, I have to go out.
One of my patients is dangerously ill.
- It's old Mr Craven Smith. -Oh, I am sorry.
Oh, you're going straight out again on our first evening at home together?
Well, it can't be helped, my love. I'll be home as soon as I can.
Well... What will be will be, I suppose.
In that case, Molly, perhaps I will take a little supper in my room after all.
Would you be so kind as to show me the way?
(BELL RINGS)
(BELL RINGS AGAIN)
(BETTY MUTTERING) I've only one pair of hands.
- It's all right, Betty, I'll go this time. - Oh, thank you, love. There.
(BELL RINGS)
(BETTY MUMBLES) Oh, she'd try the patience of a saint.
Oh, I'm so lonely, darling, in this strange house.
Will you be my little maid tonight and help me unpack and come and talk to me, hmm?
I really do think that your dear papa
might have put off his visit to Mr Craven Smith just for this one evening.
But perhaps Mr Craven Smith couldn't put off his dying.
You droll girl.
Well, if he is dying, as you say, then what was the use of your father going off in such a hurry?
Does he expect a legacy or anything of that kind?
Well, Papa can sometimes do something.
Something to make the last struggle easier, that is.
And it's a great comfort to the family to have him there.
What a dreary knowledge of death you have for a girl of your age.
Oh, dear, what an old-fashioned bed. Still, we'll renovate the house by and by.
Not my room. I want it to stay just as it is.
Come and read to me, dear. The sound of your voice will soon send me to sleep.
How was Mr Smith?
Dead. He just recognised me.
He was one of my first patients when I came to Hollingford.
- And where's the new mama? - Oh, she was tired, she went to bed early.
Must I call her Mama?
I should like it if you would.
Then I shall.
Congratulations, Mrs Gibson.
It's a pleasure to see my good friend Gibson so happily settled.
You couldn't have done better, my dear.
Tea, ma'am.
- Are both your sons at home, Squire Hamley? - Neither, ma'am.
I hope Mr Osborne will visit us soon. Molly tells me he's such a handsome young man.
Does she? Well, that's as may be. Handsome is as handsome does, I say.
Ah, I was afraid you weren't in.
We're all wrong at home, Molly.
Osborne's gone and lost the fellowship he went back to try for,
and now he's gone and failed his degree.
After all he said and all his mother said, and I, like a fool, boasting about my clever son and...
Well, I don't understand it.
And it's thrown Madam into one of her fits of illness.
Your father came to see her this morning and she asked him if she might have you about her.
And he said I might come over and fetch you and, well...
here I am.
- You will come, won't you, my dear? - I'll be ready in two minutes.
My dear, stop a minute.
I'm sure your papa quite forgot that you're going out with me this evening.
- But it's not important, is it? - She's a very sick woman, Mrs Gibson.
And she's set her heart on seeing Molly. Is there no way of getting her off?
My dear, an engagement is an engagement.
And you're engaged not only to Mrs Cockerell, but also to me,
bound to accompany me in the absence of my husband.
I'm sorry, Squire Hamley, but I think that Molly's duty is quite clear.
And I'm sure you will acknowledge that an engagement is an engagement.
Did I say an engagement was an elephant, Madam?
Perhaps you might find it possible to permit her to come to us tomorrow?
Certainly. She'll be ready at any time you name.
Thank you very much, Madam. I'm much obliged to you.
Now, my dear, I must never have you exposing me to the manners of such a man again,
and you must not go on accepting invitations as though you're an independent young lady.
- Papa said I might go. - Yes, well, now I am your mama.
All references should be made through me.
But, well, as you are to go...
..you may as well go well-dressed.
I will lend you my new shawl and set of green ribbons,
for at Hamley Hall one never knows who may be coming or going.
Thank you, but I don't want the shawl and the ribbons, please.
There will be no one there except the family. There never is, I think, and now that she's...
She's so ill.
Oh, my dear, how can I bring you back into good temper?
You jump at invitations without consulting me, refuse my prettiest things.
How can I please you, Molly? I wonder.
There you are, Miss Molly, she's expecting you.
I'll go straight up there.
Osborne has been such a disappointment to us.
I can't think how so much money was spent, and he refused to explain it.
And now the Squire won't have him in the house.
Oh, Molly, how could Osborne have gone so wrong?
You mustn't distress yourself.
If I could have spoken to him quietly, I know he would have told me everything.
- Then send for him now. It will ease your mind. - No, no, no.
I can't go against the Squire's orders.
You can't think how it cuts him to the heart to have to lay off his workers,
and he...and he's so angry since he heard...
..that Osborne has been borrowing money against his expectations...
.when the Squire should die.
I would never believe that. Couldn't it be that someone has imposed upon him?
Bad men will do that. I've heard my father say:
"Gain a good man's trust and then use it to ruin him."
Oh, you're a good girl, Molly.
You'd think well of anyone.
- Not quite anyone. - I've been so weak.
I made...such an idol of my beautiful Osborne,
and now it turns out he has...feet of clay.
(SQUIRE) Robinson, come here!
Robinson!
Ah, Molly. Er, she's very bad. I'm sending for your father.
Would you go to her? It would calm her, I think.
It's just an attack, it'll pass.
Robinson, send Thomas round to Gibson's house.
All right, Goosey, you get some rest.
- She's come through this time. - Oh, thank you, Gibson.
Praise God she's turned a corner now. May I go to her?
Don't let her talk.
I think you should write to the sons, Molly. Tell them to come as quickly as may be.
She's come through this time, but it can't be long now. Do you know their addresses?
I don't know Osborne's. I can enclose a letter for him in Roger's.
Aye, that'll do. Whatever these two lads may be to the world,
they're as close as any two brothers that I know.
And let the Squire know that you've done it. It'll be the gentlest way of breaking it to him.
- Will you tell him, my love? - Yes, Papa.
Well, I thought, you know, as the day wore on she got a little stronger.
What do you think? Where there's life there's hope, eh?
I was thinking, as soon as she's better, we'll take a trip to London or Bath.
What do you think?
When Papa was here this morning he told me to write to Mr Roger and Mr Osborne.
To tell them they had better come home.
And he wanted me to tell you I had written to them.
He told you to send for Osborne and Roger?
Yes.
Yes, I understand.
It has come, then.
But it were Osborne brought it on.
I cannot forgive him for that, I cannot.
You're a good girl.
God bless you.
She was asking for Osborne again today.
- Does she know he's coming soon, any day? - Yes.
But she wants to know where he is.
I can't tell you.
- But you're sure he'll come? - Quite sure.
Fanny...
She calls me Fanny sometimes.
It was the name of a little sister of ours who died.
I wish I could tell you, and her, all that I know about Osborne.
But I'm so involved in promises and secrecy.
How is she? You will tell me. You must know the truth.
I've travelled night and day since I got your letter.
She's very ill. But I don't think she feels much pain.
She's wanted you sadly.
- My father sent me away. - I know.
I think no one knew how ill she was.
Oh, you know. Yes, she told you a great deal. She was very fond of you.
And God knows how I love her.
If I'd not been forbidden to come home, I should have told her all.
(SQUIRE) Molly, is that you?
- You're here, sir. - He arrived just a few moments ago.
Did he?
Robinson, Mr Osborne's here. Get him what he wants.
Perhaps HE can eat and drink.
Mama...
I'm here.
Aye, that's it. Come and say goodbye to her. She may know it's you.
Walk.
Really, not gone yet? Why, how she lingers.
Who's that? Where's Betty?
Betty didn't quite suit and had become so impertinent.
But she's looked after me since I was a little girl.
Well, now you're a young lady and you've no more need for her.
Oh, I have such news for you. Cynthia...ah, Cynthia is coming to live with us.
I want her to come in good temper, because between ourselves, she's just a little bit wilful.
So I'm fitting up her room and yours just as I...
- Oh, no, please. Not mine. - Oh, yes. Yes, of course yours, dear.
Think what people would say about me in the town,
petting my own daughter and neglecting my husband's.
Everyone shall know I'm not a common stepmother. So...
A little French dressing-table, different colour on the walls. What do you say?
What have you done with my things? They were my mother's.
Oh, Molly, I don't know what's to be done with you.
I've done my best, but there's no pleasing you.
Perhaps you should think of others now and then, like the rest of us have to.
I'm very much afrraid that you and Cynthia will prove two ofr a kind.