The Duchess of Duke Street (1976–1977): Season 1, Episode 5 - A Bed of Roses - full transcript

With Charlie Tyrell now in residence as the first guest, the hotel is now officially open to the public. Louisa has set a high standard for herself and is relying on word of mouth among the right kind of people to bring in the clientèle. Charlie invites an attractive, but married, woman for dinner in his rooms only to have her leave when she realizes she is the only guest. He invites Louisa to join him and unexpectedly, they soon are lovers. When Charlie must leave for America, Louisa is heartbroken but she also is pregnant. At the appropriate time, she leaves the hotel with Mary in charge to go and give birth. Soon Charlie is back and completely unaware of what has been going on, tracks her down. He also has a proposition on how to care for their child.

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The Mastersons want to
come and stay, do they?

That's jolly good,
Louisa.

They're people
worth having.

Yes. More and more
inquiries every day,

but nobody's
actually come yet.

It'll take time.

Suppose
I should advertise.

Not if you want
to be particular

about your guests.

Personal recommendation,
that's how it's done.

Now,
I'm doing my best.



Every party I go to,

I become
a positive bore

about the virtues
of the Bentinck Hotel.

And of course,

everybody knows
about your cooking.

Well, I don't want
to go slaving away

in that bloody kitchen
the rest of me life

cooking hundreds
of pies for Mather's;

dinners for all
and sundry.

I bet you
by the summer,

the place will be
overflowing.

Anyway, I thought
you liked cooking.

Ah, there's cooking
and cooking.

Done the shopping



for your little
dinner party,

by the way.

My first
at the Bentinck.

Quite an occasion.

How's that
for a menu?

Ooh.
Looks delicious.

Pâté de foie gras,
quail pudding...

Oh, by the way,
no garlic in anything.

No garlic.

She's a most
awfully topping girl.

I think you'll approve.

Oh, that'll
make a change.

Yeah. I met her
at that hunt ball

in Hampshire last week.

Same party.
Dances divinely.

Married?

I should hope so.

Yes. Husband's
in the army,

conveniently
on a mission to Egypt.

Well, she said she was
going up to London

to do some shopping
this week,

so I asked her to dine.

Keen as mustard.
Yes, she said, just like that.

You're irresistible,
that's your trouble.

She likes roses.

Does she, now?

Well, she can
go on liking them.

She's getting none
here.

I've got some nice
spring flowers,

nice and fresh...
And virginal.

Well, I shall go out

and buy myself
a new waistcoat

to impress her.

Right.

Well...

Looks like
we got a visitor

wanting to stay,
ma'am.

Have we, now?

Here, take the tray
away, Mary.

MAN: Now, see, can't you
tell her I'm here?

STARR:
Certainly, sir.

Oh, there's a letter
for you, sir.

Indeed?

Excuse me
one moment, sir.

Certainly.

Who's Old
Whiskers, then?

Gent by the name
of Smith-Barton;

Major Smith-Barton,
D.S.O.

How'd you know
all that?

There was a letter
sent here

waiting for him
to collect.

Don't like that.
Sounds like a trick.

Coronet
on the envelope.

He seems a gentleman.
Fred gave him a wag.

All right.
I'll see him.

Very good.

Here,
where's your respect?

Very good, madam.

If you'd care
to step into

Mrs. Trotter's
room, sir...

straight across
the hall.

Thank you.

You might have to carry
that lot out again.

It's a hotel,
isn't it?

Private hotel.

Any bloke can take
a room, can't he,

same as
any other hotel?

That depends.
That all depends.

Just back
from the east.

Been out there
a longish tour.

Looking for somewhere
to put up, don't you know?

I see, major.

I've been down
in Suffolk,

shooting with my cousin
Lord Dedham.

Said he'd heard
the old Bentinck

had opened again,
run by a damn fine woman

who really knew
how to cook.

That's nice.

Asked me to stay on,
you know, down there,

but the Dedhams live in
a drafty barrack of a house,

and...and my blood's
a bit thin

after all those years
in the sun,

so I upped sticks
and made for London.

Was you thinking of
a set of rooms, major?

Oh, lord, no.

I'm an old campaigner,
you know.

I don't like
a lot of fuss.

If you've got
a boot cupboard somewhere,

it'll do me.

Oh, well, I think
we can do something

a bit better
than that.

If you'll follow me.

Thank you.

Putting the major
in number 11, Starr.

Madam.

Thank you.

Thank you,
sir.

I wonder if I
might have a loan

of your
"Sporting Life."

Well, certainly,
sir.

You're sure you've
finished with it?

He's better
without it.

You're very kind.

Nicest part of London,
this, I always say.

Like an armchair.

Oh, yes.

MAJOR: I wonder

if I might have
luncheon in my room:

cold pheasant and
a bottle of Claret...

something like that.

Certainly, major.

Did you hear that,
Merriman?

I did, ma'am.
I did.

How very kind.

Charming servants
you have, ma'am.

That old fossil's
deaf as a post

unless he chooses
not to be.

I only keep him on
out of kindness.

Of course, in India,

one gets used to
half-trained boys.

Seems to have got
his feet under the table

nice and quick.

Aye, he's the sort.

We'll never
get rid of him

now he's here.

And he'll want
every meal

carried up
to his room...

breakfast, luncheon,
tea, dinner.

I've seen them
before.

There was a day
not so long ago

an old gentleman
wouldn't have had

his luncheon
in his hotel.

What does he think
his club's for?

Oh, I don't know
what some people

are coming to
these days.

I may be old,

but I still know
what's what.

Well, I reckon
Major Whiskers

is a bit of a sporting
old gentleman.

What do you say, Fred?

Now, when Mr. Tyrrell
and his guest

have finished the soup,

you put the light under
the sole...not before.

And let me know
when they're ready

for me quail pudding.

I'll bring it up meself.
Did you hear me?

Yes, yes,
I heard you, ma'am.

Don't light them candles
till Mr. Tyrrell rings.

Very well.

And get done quick
when it's over.

Won't want you
hanging about

like a drunk
at a wedding.

Yes, ma'am.

Fell, 3 out.

Oh.

Probably
brought down.

Or interfered with.

Not the horse's
fault, sure of that.

Real good one.

Oh, well, you can't
always win.

What's your fancy
for tomorrow, major?

Sultan's Kiss in
the 2:00 at Sandown.

Absolute snip.
Can't go wrong.

I had it
in confidence

from a fella...

Is this
the Bentinck Hotel?

Yes, madam.

Mr. Tyrrell's party.
Mrs. Travers.

Mr. Tyrrell's
guest.

Will you
follow me, madam?

Nice-looking filly,
that.

Bit of blood there.

Highly strung,
I shouldn't wonder.

Be all right with
the right jockey up,

eh, major?

MARY: Mrs. Travers
is here, sir.

Oh, please,
show her in.

My dear Belinda,

how nice
to see you again.

Good evening,
Charles.

Do please sit down.

Cold out. Raw.

Yes, beastly.
Horribilino.

How about something
to warm you up?

A glass of Madeira?

No, thank you.

Oh. Well, perhaps
a glass of Champagne?

Well...

Don't open a bottle
especially for me.

Oh, heavens, no.

It's mother's milk
to me.

What an unusual place
this is.

Not a bit
like a hotel.

No. That's the idea.

You see, Mrs. Trotter,
who runs the place,

thought it would be
a good idea

to make it more like
a sort of country house,

don't you know?

How quaint.

What fun it was
last weekend, wasn't it?

Hmm. Yes, it was
really quite deevy.

Tubby Vernon
dressing up as a footman

and spilling the soup
all over

Admiral Squeezy Dick's
shirt

was really quite a lark,
wasn't it?

Yes, it was quite
a lark, wasn't it?

I bet the old devil
played footy-footy

with you
under the table.

Yes, he did, actually.

It was most awfully
embarrassing.

Oh,
I don't blame him.

What did you do?

Oh, my mother
taught me

always to have
a fork ready.

To repel invaders, eh?

I must be careful.

I say, that's the most
awfully nice dress

you're wearing.

Oh, I'm so glad
you like it.

It was part of
my trousseau.

My sister said
she thought

it was
rather risque.

I'm staying with her
in Paddington.

Oh, Paddington.

So handy for the park.

Yes.

I always seem
to be cuckooing

with some friend
or relation or other

when Basil is away.

I'm sure you're
very welcome in every nest.

That's what's so nice
about this place.

One is so completely
undisturbed...

private, if you know
what I mean;

one's own little nest.

You'll have me
tiddly, you know.

Oh, nonsense.

Mind you, there's rather
a nice Claret ahead.

We don't want to
spoil our palates.

No.

I say,
I hope you're hungry.

Quite famishared,
actually.

Good, because
Mrs. Trotter

really is
a very good cook.

Was I boringly early,

or is everyone else
boringly late?

CHARLIE: Well,
there isn't anyone else.

I thought just
a little intimate...

Oh, no, Charles.
I couldn't possibly.

But you did say
you'd like to...

but I had no idea.

Well, you asked me
to a dinner party

in a hotel.

I couldn't possibly
dine with you alone.

It would cause
an absolute scandalare.

It simply isn't done
in Basil's regiment.

Oh. Oh,
my dearest Belinda,

you are teasing me,
aren't you?

It's awfully unkind
to be such a tease.

No, Charles,
I'm not, really.

Really, I'm not.

But no one will ever
know, Belinda.

Just one evening.

It's all ready,
and even cuckoos have to eat.

Please don't
touch me, Charles.

I never took you for a...

For a cad.

If Basil knew,
he would shoot you.

Shoot me?

He shot a man in Durban
for less.

He shot him?

You mean
he killed him?

He only grazed
his finger, actually,

but that was because
the man moved.

I see.

Do please forgive me,
Belinda.

Silly mistake
on my part.

Yes, Charles,
it was, rather.

You'd like
to go home?

Yes, I would.

My carriage wasn't
ordered until 10:30.

Then you'll stay.
I knew you would.

No, I won't.

Then I'll
find you a cab.

I couldn't go
in a hackney cab,

not at night.

I'm sure Basil
wouldn't mind

just this once.

Top the water up
under me quail pudding,

would you,
Mrs. Wellkin?

Yes, ma'am.

What the hell
are you doing down here?

Sorry you couldn't
stay longer.

Now, you're sure
you wouldn't like me

to see you home?

No, I think I'll be
quite safe by myself

just this once.

Well, good night,
Belinda.

I hope we see each
other again soon.

So do I.
Good night, Charles.

Next time, we'll
have a proper party.

Good night,
Charles.

Good night.

Didn't even
get her to the post.

Well,
I'll be damned.

Saved our bet that time,
didn't we, Fred?

Stood up good
and proper, was you?

Well, I never did.

Stupid woman.

Typical stuffy,
middle-class army.

Cut and run
when she become aware

of your dishonorable
intentions, eh?

Poor old Casanova.

I didn't so much as
lay a finger on her.

No, but you was going to,
wasn't you, no-garlic?

Well, thank heavens
there's some honest,

decent women
left in the world

what's prepared to be
faithful to their husbands

and behave themselves.

Thank you, Louisa,

for those comforting
and consoling words.

I don't think
it's very funny.

No, it isn't.
It's rather sad, really.

Oh, Louisa,
I do want to apologize

after all the trouble
you've taken.

I really am
most awfully sorry.

Don't worry.

Forget about the ladies
for one night, eh?

Sit down.
Enjoy my nice dinner.

Just like you to
take it on the chin

without moaning.

Thanks.

Louisa, will you
dine with me?

Me?
Yes.

Do me the honor
of dining with me.

No, Charlie.
Not possible.

Got another 50 pies
to come out of the oven.

Oh, Mrs. Wellkin
can take them

out of the oven,
for heaven's...

and I've got
all the stuff to prepare

for Lady Manton's
dinner party tomorrow night.

That's tomorrow night,
not tonight.

Relax.
Enjoy yourself tonight.

Take a night off.

No one's worked harder
or deserves it more.

Eat me own poison?
Well, that'd be a laugh.

It'd give me great
pleasure if you would,

and I do need
cheering up.

Well, I don't know.

In fact, I'd say

it was your duty
to cheer me up.

Aren't I more important
than Lady Manton?

All right, then,
Mr. Misery.

Everything's
just about ready.

I suppose I'll manage.

Thank you, Mr. Tyrrell.

I should be pleased
to accept

your kind invitation
to dinner.

Just give me a moment.
I'll tart meself up.

Uh, Merriman?
Yes, sir.

Put two bottles of
the Clicquot Vin Rosé 93

on ice, would you?

Yes, sir.
Thank you.

Yeah.
That's nice, Mary.

I always did
my mother's hair.

She was proud of it.

She said it was
the only beautiful thing

she had left
in the world.

What about
her daughter?

Oh, go on, ma'am.

Yeah.

Right.

Oh.

Here we are.

Ta.

Wish I had
a nice tiny waist

like yours, ma'am.

Can't be more
than 18 inches.

Oh, that comes from
not eating, Mary.

Nothing
but tea and toast

for so long.

I ain't worn this
not since...

Well, not since
we've come here.

Wouldn't the gold necklace
be nicer, ma'am?

No, it's
the jet tonight.

It's got to be.

Why is that?

Well-brought-up
ladies' maids

don't ask that sort
of question, Mary.

No, Mr. Tyrrell
gave me that...

Long time ago.

How's that, then?

Oh, you look
beautiful, ma'am.

You look like
a real duchess.

You do, really.

Oh, blimey,
I'm glad I'm not one.

What a laugh.
Nothing to do all day

except eat too much,
sleep too much,

talk too much.

But it's all nice for
when it's make-believe.

LOUISA: Pink Champagne's
pushing the boat out

a bit, isn't it?

Well, it's
a special occasion.

I didn't even know

we had any
in the cellar.

Ah,
but Merriman and I knew,

didn't we, Merriman?

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Well, here's to

a first-rate
secondhand evening.

Well, shall we try
this woman's cooking?

Hmm.

And what would you
say to your lady

if she was
sitting here?

Well...
With the first course,

start off
with the weather.

The weather? Huh!

You can tell
Mrs. Wellkin

this toast is like
a soggy mattress.

Yes, ma'am.

Weather don't sound
too romantic to me.

Oh, it's a way of sort of
breaking the ice, you know?

How the fog stopped
the pheasants flying well

at Mentmore.

Well, that's if she's
interested in shooting.

If your lady
likes shooting,

you want to
watch out.

Or perhaps
if she likes hunting,

we might consider together
how many days

the Belvoir has been
stopped by frost this season,

then go over every yard
of that splendid hunt

we had with the Warwickshire
last November,

never missing a fence.

Then we could
consider the merits

of the big bay gelding...

what if she likes
tiddlywinks?

Then we shall play
tiddlywinks later.

Just now,
it is essential

to return
to the weather.

Why?

Because...

Just as I am suggesting

that we should
go skating together

on the Serpentine,
a thought strikes me.

"Is the lady cold?"

Well, I'm immediately
all attention and apprehension.

I must find out.

Is her tiny hand
frozen?

Here, stop it.

MARY: By the time
I'd finished with her,

she looked like
a real duchess.

She did, really.

How do you know what
a duchess looks like?

Have you ever seen one?

No, not really.
Only in pictures.

Well, she's
acting like one,

and that's a fact.

Soggy toast, indeed.

What does she
expect,

leaving me to cook
the whole dinner

single-handed
at the last minute?

I bet you
there'll be a moan

about the quail
pudding next.

Well,
now the time is ripe

to embark upon
more serious subjects...

such important matters

as where the lady
is staying for Ascot.

Oh, that's easy.
Windsor Castle,

if the queen'll
weather it.

Louisa,
I said "Serious."

Like what horribilino
plays she's been to

and what deevy
house parties

and where she dinared
before dansareing

with that divine
partnerino.

Oh, God.

And who's been
hopping into bed

with who, no doubt.

Put rather crudely.
Yes.

Well, if you will
excusare me.

Right.

Ah.

And what
do you think

your lady
would say to that?

She would be enchanted.

She'd say, "It seems
a shame to eat it."

They always do.

She'd say that
she had heard

this Mrs. Trotter
was not only

the best cook in London;

but a most beautiful
woman to boot.

And of course,
I'd have to explain

that Mrs. Trotter
was in reality

a nasty old dragon
with a face

like the back end
of a horse bus.

You'd better watch it,
Mr. Tyrrell.

You'll get a clout
on the lug-hole.

High jinks up there,
Mr. Merriman?

Heh!

High jinks it is,
and no mistake.

Bit perky,
our Mrs. Trotter,

eh, Fred?

♪ That old Flo,
such a change, you know ♪

♪ When she left the village,
she was shy ♪

♪ But alas and alack ♪

♪ she's come back ♪

♪ With a naughty little twinkle
in her eye ♪

Ha ha ha!

Oh, you're made
for the halls, boy.

Ha ha ha!

Oh, my God.

I think it's about time
your lady

went back to
her pots and pans.

No, not quite.

Not till I've told her

that her hair is like
the finest gossamer

seen at dewy dawn;

her eyes like twin pools
of rare delight;

her cheeks
like blushing clouds...

what about
her Hampsteads?

Huh?

Uh, a ring of pearls

culled from
an eastern crown.

Not bad. Not bad.

Where was I?

Cheeks like
blushing clouds.

Oh, yes.
Um, lips...

Like two rosebuds
newly op'd in June.

Neck like a column
of Alabaster.

I think that's about
far enough, isn't it?

Yes.

Then I tell her
that I love her.

And your magic spell
always works, eh?

No.

It's rather like
hooking a salmon.

That's the real sport
of the thing.

It's just a sport,
is it?

I suppose it is...
Usually.

And you always
win in the end?

No.

Sometimes the lady says
her carriage is waiting.

I ain't got a carriage.

She wants tea and biscuits
and a pear.

She can
whistle for them

as far as
I'm concerned.

It's not my job.

Hey?

Well,
there's pears there.

Eh, too ripe.

It's the best they had
left in the market.

After 11:00,
she gets me down a note.

Would I go and do
the marketing

for Lady Manton
in her place?

It's not right,
Mr. Merriman.

I can't do everything
in this hotel.

We can only any of us
do our best,

Mrs. Wellkin,
I should think.

Oh, yes.

But I never come back
here to be put upon.

Do our best?

I reckon the best thing
I can do

is tell Mrs. Trotter
to find somebody else

to do her cooking.

Oh.

You want to watch it,
Mr. Merriman.

Eh?

Proper tantrum
she's in this morning.

I said to her...
quite civil...

"Your mail,
Mrs. Trotter," I said.

She bit me head off.

"Why isn't it
on my desk?" she said.

"Why are there
dirty paw marks

"all over this floor?

This is meant to be
a hotel," she says,

"Not a bleeding
dogs' home."

She's got out of bed
the wrong side,

and that's a fact.

And not her own bed,
either.

Is that what you think,
Mr. Merriman?

It's not what I think.

Oh. Old Major Whiskers
is still in bed.

As I was making up his fire,

he was telling me
about how he fought

the fierce pythons of
the northwest frontier of India.

Pathans.

Huh?

Pathans.

Oh, yes,
that's right.

He said if they didn't
have us to fight,

they'd fight each other
for the fun of it.

Just like the Welsh.

Mr. Merriman,
he'd like some biscuits

and a glass of
light port at 11:00.

And the loan of
your sporting paper,

Mr. Starr, if you'll
be so obliging.

That all?
That's all.

But I don't know
how I'm ever gonna

get it all done
at this rate.

Morning.

Hello.

Will you come out
to lunch with me?

I can't. I'm supposed
to be running a hotel,

not waltzing round
the West End with you.

Your tea, ma'am.

Thank you,
Merriman.

Do you
want a cup?

No, thank you.

This pear
is not ripe.

I know, but...

well, take it
away, then.

Yes, ma'am.

Don't bring me unripe
pears in future.

I won't.

Oh, Charlie, what have
we gone and done?

What will people say?
What will they think?

No one will know.

Well, of course
they'll know.

The servants
will find out,

then everyone
will know.

Well,
does it matter?

"Have you heard

"That Mrs. Trotter
at the Bentinck

tucks up
with her customers?"

I oughtn't to drink.
That's my trouble.

You mean the whole thing
was just to cheer me up?

No, I don't mean that.
Of course I don't.

You know very well
I don't.

No, your magic spell
wouldn't have worked

unless I'd wanted it to.

I just feel in me bones
it's dangerous.

We can't go back now.

No, but we
can take a pull,

a real pull.

Stop?

Yeah.

Is that what you
really want?

No, of course
it's not what I want.

Can't always have what
you want in life, can you?

Hardly ever, come to that.

I don't know.
I just don't know.

Look. I got
all the accounts to do.

Got that dinner party
for 24 tonight.

Yes.

All right.

Just locking up,
Mrs. Trotter.

Sorry we're late.

We was held up
in the fog.

Dinner go all right?

Yeah. I think they was
highly delighted.

Good night, then.

I'll turn
the lights out.

All right, madam.

Good morning, general.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Good morning.
Good morning.

Good morning.

Something
for Fred.

Oh, thank you,
Mrs. Trotter.

MERRIMAN:
Excuse me, ma'am.

There's a message

come around
to the kitchen

from the German
Embassy.

Can you do
dinner for 30

Thursday night?

Oh, my God.

I'll join you, Charlie.

No, I can't,
but Mrs. Wellkin can.

Yeah, she can do it.

Well, don't stand there
like death warmed up.

What's the matter?

Wasn't Mrs. Wellkin
they asked for, ma'am.

Well, I'm going to
the theater that night

to see
"The country girl,"

So you can tell them
the answer is no.

Very good, ma'am.

German embassy.

It's nothing but a lot of
bleeding foreigners anyhow.

Chocolate cake, Fred.

Here, look at that.
It's your favorite.

Ha ha ha!

Well, that's
a turn-up for the book,

and no mistake.

30 for Thursday?

She's gone barmy,
and no mistake.

That's what she said.

I suppose
she's forgotten

there's people
staying in this hotel

who have to be
cooked for as well.

And more coming!

Oh, she's gone barmy,
Mr. Merriman.

That's a fact.

I mean, there's nobody
I've worked for

who looked after
her servants

better than
Mrs. Trotter did.

Really thoughtful.

I'll grant you

her temper's
never been good,

but what's an argy-bargy
every so often?

This spoony business...

Oh, I don't know.
I really don't.

Oh, isn't it lovely?

Oh, ta
ever so much.

I'm gonna wear this
when we go to Ascot.

That'll put them
lady doo-dahs' noses

out of joint.

Oh, it's honeysuckle.
Look.

♪ I am your honey,
honeysuckle ♪

♪ You are my bee ♪

♪ Ah, di, da ♪

Oh, Charlie, darling!

Oh, I feel tingly
all over.

Like when I had measles,
but nicer.

I don't care
about nothing.

I don't care if it's
Christmas or Easter.

I must be going potty,
I really must.

Oh, it's nice, though.

It's like being
up in the air somewhere.

Everything else
is ever so small

except just us.

Do you feel like that?

Very happy.
Not quite like that.

Well, ain't you ever
felt like that...

you know,
all sort of giddy?

Yes, I have,

but a long time ago,
when I was about 15.

I developed
an absolute passion

for one of the girls
who worked in the dairy

at home on the farm.

Oh, I was much too shy
even to talk to her.

I just gazed from afar
in adoration.

Ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha!

I soon grew out of it.

Oh, I hope I don't grow
out of it too quick.

Here, Charlie, come on.
Let's.

This time of day?

Oh, what's it matter
what time it is?

But Mary will be in later
to turn down my bed.

Oh, don't be
so stuffy.

Come on up
to my room.

Nobody turns down
my bed.

It's nice and warm
and cozy up there.

Come on.

MARY: Mr. Merriman.

Huh?

This passion
Mrs. Trotter has...

Eh?

It's changed
her nature.

Terrible she seems
to have gone.

All flighty.

I suppose
it's marvelous for her,

being in love
and all that.

May be a marvel for her,

but it's not at all
marvelous for us, Mary.

More like sitting
on a powder keg for us.

An explosion, is it,
Mr. Merriman?

Any second of the day.

Order and sense
out of the window.

Confusion reigns.

"The country girl"
instead of the German Embassy,

if you get my drift.

Not entirely,
Mr. Merriman.

Hmm?

There was a chef
in a hotel

where I worked once.

He had a great touch
with fish.

Could make a common
piece of hake

taste like turbot.

But when he had
a passion on him...

there'd be a spell
that he had one

once a week...

why, then,
I tell you the truth,

he could make sole
taste worse than skate.

That's what it can do to
a normal, sane human being.

She's took bad, then.

Well, I had hoped
to die peaceful in me bed.

It'll be thankful release
when it comes.

But not in the ruins
of the Bentinck Hotel.

Mmm. You have a most
powerful imagination,

Mr. Merriman.

Yeah, lucky for some,
but not for others.

What you have in this world,
you pay for.

Good afternoon, sir.

I'd like to see
a room, please.

Yes, sir.

Sitting room,
bedroom, bathroom.

You have
such arrangements?

Yes, sir.
Good.

I'm sorry, sir.

I can't take on
any new guests,

not without the
proprietor's permission.

May I see
the proprietor, then?

Mrs. Trotter's not here,
I'm afraid, sir.

When will she be back?

I have no idea, sir.
She didn't say.

Major, excuse me.

Mrs. Trotter didn't
mention to you

when she'd be back,
did she?

No. She's been out
a lot lately.

In fact,
a great deal.

Well,
in the meantime,

perhaps I could look
at the rooms available.

I have a cab
waiting outside.

Oh, not without
Mrs. Trotter being here.

She's very particular,
you see.

What exactly
do you mean to imply

by that remark?

Oh, nothing at all, sir.
It's nothing personal.

You'll bear me out there,
won't you, major?

Uh, yes.

Mrs. Trotter's
very particular.

And where,
by the way, sir,

do you come into it?

Oh, not at all,
really.

I'm just staying here,
don't you know.

Well, I'm delighted
to hear that somebody is.

I should be obliged

if you would give
Mrs. Trotter my card

with my compliments

and tell her
that in future

I shall not be
bothering her anymore.

There are plenty
of hotels in London

where they do
have rooms.

Yes, my lord.

I'm exceedingly
sorry, my lord.

The sorrow is mutual.

Good day.

Do you think
I did right, major?

I'm sure you did,
Starr.

Sure you did.

STARR: I hope so.

Fred didn't wag his tail
or anything.

Still, Mrs. Trotter
has a real weakness

for lords.

Yes, but she does like
to pick them herself.

That's true.

And I don't think this one
was anything special

in the way of lords.

Still, what a way
to run a hotel,

eh, major?

Your papa was
the best fagmaster

I ever had at Eton.

Always gave me a tip
for everything I did.

You know, a ha'penny
or a sausage

or something...

not like that fellow

Master
William Duckworth.

He was a real brute.

If his eggs
or his toast

weren't done
exactly right,

he used to give me
a terrible walloping.

I hated
that fellow's guts.

I never thought I should
ever feel sorry for him,

but I did.

He joined some smart
cavalry regiment,

treated his men
just like he treated me

at school,

and they wouldn't
stand for it.

Mutinied.

Duckworth was
court-martialed.

Last time I saw him,

he was an old man
of 45

drinking himself
to death in Boodle's.

Gone to pot.

Rather like this place.

What do you mean?

You aren't implying

that Louisa Trotter
bullies the servants?

Oh, lord, no.

She's a most
charming woman.

It's just that,
uh...

Rather going
to the dogs.

You probably
wouldn't notice,

but the servants
chatter away to me.

They, uh, pour out
their troubles

to the old
Dutch Uncle.

It's very sad.

They're not at all
happy at present.

In fact, I think
Starr and the cook

are thinking
of leaving.

I say, that...
that is bad.

I'd be sad to
have to go myself.

It's a...
it's a great pity,

especially after
all they told me

about Mrs. Trotter

making such
a great effort

to get the hotel open
in the first place.

Yes, indeed.
Mmm.

Still, I...

I don't suppose
there's anything

you and I
can do about it.

A nice drop of Port,
this.

Yes, it's Croft's '72.

I brought it up
from home.

Father's been forbidden
to drink the stuff,

to his fury.

How is he?

Mmm,

not awfully good,
actually.

He had a very bad fall
out hunting

a couple of months ago.

Hasn't got right.

It's his back, really.

None of the doctors seem
to be able to do anything.

He and my mama
are just off to New York

to see some quack
over there.

Oh. Very sorry.

I was given
a pipe of Port

by a very generous
godfather

as a christening
present.

Sad to say, I never
touched a drop of it.

Well, how is that?

When I was 21
and the stuff

was just ready
to drink,

I had to sell it off
to pay my debts.

It probably saved me

from getting
chronic gout.

Oh, well,
I'd better turn in

if I'm to look for
another billet tomorrow.

Good night, Charlie.
Thanks for the Port.

Good night, sir.

General
and Mrs. Maxwell

are coming
for a few days,

so I figure
I'll put them

in, uh, number 5.

So make sure it's
all clean and ready.

Yes, ma'am.

Will you be requiring
flowers in there?

Why flowers?

He's only a general,
not The Pope.

And Mr. Tyrrell's
going away.

I see, ma'am.

Got to go off
with his ma and pa

to America.

How long will he
be gone for?

No idea.

Well, anyway,
it will give me the chance

to give his room
a real cleanout.

That's right.

Good-bye, Merriman.

Good-bye, sir.

Bye, Fred.
Bye, Mary.

Look after Mrs. Trotter,
won't you?

We will, sir.

All ready, sir.

Thank you, Starr.

Might get the boat back on
an even keel now, Fred, eh?

Good morning, Starr.

Good morning, sir.

Damn nice dog,
that of yours.

Yes, major.

I had a dog very
like yours myself

once in India.

Marvelous ratter.

I bet Fred's
a good dog with a rat.

I daresay, major.

Nice sporting
sort of dog.

By the way, Starr,

there's
a good thing going

in the 2:00
at Plumpton.

Near certainty.
Nice price, too.

Timbelino.

Put a guinea on it
for me, will you?

Yes, major.

A guinea,
you said, major?

That's right.

If you could advance
me the money,

I should be
most grateful.

Of course, you get
50% of the winnings

at 14-1.

Very well, major.

Much obliged, Starr.

Is Mrs. Trotter
alone?

Yes, sir, she is.
Mmm.

Come on, Fred.

Time you had your wash
and brush up.

Then maybe we'll have
a look around for a rat.

I can certainly smell one...
Quite clearly.

I wonder if I might

have a word with you,
Mrs. Trotter.

Yeah, of course
you can, major.

Come in.

It's a bit awkward.

The fact is,

I have a favor
to ask of you.

About money, is it?

Eh, yes, it is, rather.

Um, shortage of same...

temporary shortage
of same.

You see, it's been
a bit difficult lately.

Trustees being
a bit tiresome.

Of course, it won't
be long now.

It's just a question

of getting things
sorted out.

Of course, I realize

I can't go on
staying here

with my bill unpaid.

Of course you can,
major.

This old place
is humming like a top.

It's not gonna
ruin us.

Wouldn't be the same
without you.

Oh, that's awfully
civil of you, ma'am.

I'm really most
awfully grateful.

Just forget it.
Take a pew.

We'll have
a glass of wine

and drown our sorrows.

Had any news
of Charlie Tyrrell?

Yeah. He just
sent a postcard.

Oh.

"Dreadful voyage.

"Sick as cats
all the way,

and New York is
cold as charity."

Oh, Merriman,
bottle of wine, please.

Yes, ma'am.

And not that muck

you brought up
last time.

Bottle of
the Bollinger '93.

Bollinger '93.

All right
for you, major?

Oh. '93.

He's short
of the tinkle.

That's Old Whiskers'
trouble.

How can you tell that,
Mr. Starr?

Can always tell

when they get
specially friendly

and confidential,

then borrow
a guinea off you

to put
on a certainty.

Mr. Starr says that
Major Whiskers

is short on money,
Mr. Merriman.

Can that be true?

Oh, he's not paying
for this wine,

I can tell you that.

She's paying for it.

Drinking
the profits.

But how can a gentleman
not have any money?

Oh, it's not that
he hasn't got any money;

it's just that he hasn't
got any available.

He never will have
any available.

People like him
never do and never will.

Money just slips
through their hands

like a piece of wet soap,
as you might say.

Well, couldn't happen
to a servant...

workingman,
as you might say.

Only to a gentleman.

Why is that?

Oh, it's in the nature
of things, Mary,

and there's nothing
you can do about it.

STARR: Now,
don't you listen

to old gloom, Mary.

People
like the major

have their ups
and downs,

that's all.

One day soon,
you'll find

he'll be suddenly
so flush,

he'll be taking
a set of rooms

just to himself...

And buying a string
of racehorses

into the bargain.

Oh. Sorry, ma'am.

As Mr. Tyrrell
was away,

I thought I'd get
his bedroom curtains washed.

All right, Mary.

Mary, come in here.

Yes, ma'am?

Sit down.
What?

I said sit down,
cloth-ears.

I'm gonna have a baby.

Been round the doctor's.
I'm 9 weeks gone.

Oh, what
a terrible thing.

Oh, don't look so
bloody poor-faced.

I'm sure even in Wales

people make mistakes
sometimes.

What are you gonna do?

Are you going round...
I mean, there are...

No, I'm not.

Not having anyone
do me in

with dirty
knitting needles.

Anyway,
I happen to believe

if God makes a baby,
he has a reason to,

and you have to lump it.

Now, no one's
to know about it

except you and me.

But Mr. Tyrrell
will have to know.

No, he won't,

and you won't
tell no one.

No, I won't.

Will you
swear on it?

Cross my heart
and hope to die.

There's no panic.
Be all right for a bit.

When it starts to show,
I'll go away somewhere;

stop all me outside
cooking.

And you'll have to
run this place.

But I couldn't, ma'am.
I never could.

You will when I've
finished with you.

LOUISA: Now, the credit's
bigger than the debit,

so you subtract
the debit,

and that makes that
11 pounds, 3 shillings,

and 5 pence,
3 farthings, right?

Now, that's profit.

That's not bad
for one day.

Now, keep
all the cash in here,

locked up always.

And when there's enough,

you take it
around to the bank

in St. James Street.

What's enough?

Oh, when it's
nice and heavy.

You have to use
your savvy.

Oh, I see.

Right. Next page.

Now,
tomorrow's Friday,

so we have to pay
all them bills.

We'll make
a list of them.

Now, you want to
answer all the letters

the day they come.

That way,
it's more polite...

especially people inquiring
about rooms and that.

Have a look at them.

Well, how can I tell

if they're the right
sort of people, ma'am,

not being a snob
like you?

Oh, there's ways
of telling.

Now, here's one from
a Mr. Worthington-Jones.

He's not in "Who's who."
I've looked.

Might be all right.

On the other hand,
he might not.

He might have just
tacked the Worthington

on to the Jones for luck.

It's nice paper.
It's handmade, and it's white.

Now, never trust
colored papers.

And the address
is printed proper,

from a plate.

You feel that?
Now, that's engraved.

Common people
wouldn't know about that.

I see.

So you just write back
to Mr. Worthington-jones,

thanking him for
his esteemed inquiry,

et cetera.

But suppose
somebody comes in?

I don't know if
he's right or wrong.

Oh, you can always ask
Starr or Merriman.

They'll have
quite a good idea.

If you're really stuck,

you can ask
old Major Whiskers.

He might not be here.

Oh, he'll be here,
all right.

I reckon, like the poor,
he'll always be with us.

Charlie.
My dear fellow.

How splendid to
see you again.

Thank you.

My goodness.

How we've all
missed you.

Oh. Well, the place
seems buzzing.

Oh, yes,
going splendidly.

Full up with

the most awfully
good lot of people.

I say, I was sorry to
see about your father.

Yes. It has been
pretty grim.

In the end,
quite frankly,

it was
a merciful release

when he did die.

Glass of Port?

If you'll forgive me,

I have rather
a lot to do.

Hello, Merriman.
Been well?

Oh, fairish,
my lord.

Middling,
as you might say,

in the circumstances,
but, uh,

if I might be allowed
to say so, my lord,

it's as good
as a tonic

to have you
back with us.

Thank you.

Be a good fellow

and bring
a bottle of wine

into Mrs. Trotter's
room, will you?

Uh, she's not there,
my lord,

but, then,
you know that.

Why, no, I didn't.

Been away
on the sick list

a goodish time,

hasn't she,
Merriman?

Oh, fair bit
of time now, my lord.

What's wrong
with her?

Oh, a bit off color,
out of sorts.

Gone away somewhere.

Really?
Very strange.

Who looks after
the hotel?

Miss Phillips
is in charge

since Mrs. Trotter left.

Miss Phillips?
Mmm.

Oh. Thank you,
Merriman.

Oh, so you're
Miss Phillips,

are you, Mary?

Oh, sir.
My lord.

We wasn't expecting
you back, my lord.

Your room's
not ready.

I was only
passing through.

What's all this
about Mrs. Trotter?

Well,
she was took poorly

with her nerves
and all that,

and the doctor said

she had to go away
and rest.

But I had a letter
from her

just before I sailed.

She didn't say
anything about it.

Well, um,
she said to me

she didn't want
to worry you...

you with troubles
enough of your own.

Where is she, Mary?

I don't know, sir,
not for sure.

Somewhere
on the coast.

Been traveling
about, you know.

Mary, I want to know
where she is.

I swore I'd not say
to anyone.

I can't tell you.

Is she all right,
Betty?

That's what I
was going to ask.

Oh, crikey, Charlie.

You didn't half
give me a turn.

I'm sorry
about your dad.

So you're
Lord Haslemere now, eh?

So it's a girl,
is it?

I'll kill that Mary.

Not her fault.

I found these.

Oh...Charlie.

They're rather
out of date.

However did you find out
about the baby?

Worked it out.

How?

It's 3 hours
on the train

down here
from London.

Plenty of time
to think.

You left the hotel
just as things

were beginning
to get busy.

That didn't sound like
the Louisa Trotter

I used to know.

She wouldn't have
left that place

even if she was dying,

unless she had something
that she had to hide...

from me, from everyone.

It didn't take
Sherlock Holmes

to guess what it was.

I ain't been
too clever, have I?

They all know?

No, no one else.

Was it bad?

Well, it was a bit rough,
being the first.

Why, Louisa?

Why didn't you
tell me?

Well, it's none of
your business, is it?

My mess.
I've got to clear it up.

God, you are
pigheaded sometimes.

None of my business?
How dare you.

Oh, for heaven's sakes,
it's not your fault.

Well, men are born
to chase after women,

aren't they?

Otherwise, there'd be
no human race.

And women have got
to watch out,

or they cop it.

Oh, I broke me own rules.
I knew what I was doing.

It's a nice little baby.
It's nice and healthy.

No trouble,
not like her mother.

You really thought
you'd get away with it?

Well, I nearly did.

Another week,
clean and clever.

Not very clever.

What are you gonna
do with her?

Well, I haven't
worked it out,

not exactly, but...

She'll be looked after
proper.

She won't
lack for nothing.

Except a mother
and a father.

You didn't need
to say that.

I think I did.

Louisa, I want you
to marry me.

Oh, you're a real
gentleman, Charlie,

I'll say that for you.

You don't have to do
the honorable thing,

not this time.

I love you,
you silly woman.

Yeah, but would you have
asked me to marry you

if it hadn't been
for the baby?

I don't know.

Quite frankly,
I don't know.

It's not a very fair
question.

It's the greatest
compliment

I'm likely to be paid
in my little life.

And I do appreciate it,
honest, but...

But you don't
love me?

No, it's not that.
It's...

Well, I'm just not
cut out to be a wife...

anyone's wife.

I mean,
look at that baby.

It's a nice enough
little baby,

but I don't love it.

I mean,
it could be anyone's

as far as I'm concerned.

I don't know why.
I'm just made like that.

I wouldn't be no good
as Lady Haslemere.

I'm best left
as Louisa Trotter, eh?

It's best to be honest
about things, eh?

Not to pull the wool.

Only leads to trouble
later on.

Yes.

It was a wonderful thing
that we had.

Shan't never
forget it, ever.

But it's over.

So...best
to frame it, eh?

Then we'll always have it
to look back on

when things is bad.

Well, you're bound
to feel a bit low

after the baby.

Perhaps you'll
change your mind.

Oh, I ain't been
too bad.

Quiet of this place
gets me down.

It's like a cemetery
with seagulls.

All I want to do

is get back to
noisy old London

and my hotel.

Louisa...

Would you mind if I
took charge of the baby?

One of the grooms
and his wife

at home in the country

have just lost
their child.

They're an awfully
nice couple.

I think they'd be very...

yeah,
that's a good idea.

May I go
and take a look at her?

Yeah. Yeah.
That'd be nice.

Ah, Starr,
your paper.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Morning, Mary.

Morning.

Morning, Fred.

No one's speaking to
Fred this morning, sir.

Got him all dolled up,

ready to greet
Mrs. Trotter,

and what does he do
but miss parade?

Some lady friend
down at St. James' square.

I'll bet
Fred's a devil

with the ladies.

By the way, major,

Mrs. Trotter
sends her compliments

and would be obliged

if you'd call on her
in her room

at your convenience.

Oh.
Right you are.

Thank you.

Poor old
Major Whiskers.

Can't help
feeling sorry for him.

He hasn't had a bad run
for no money.

When I saw your bill
was still unpaid, major,

I couldn't hardly
believe me eyes!

I...I really am
most dreadfully sorry.

I thought I'd best wait
till you got back to explain.

You can't live on tick
all your life, you know.

Eh...
As a matter of fact,

I'm expecting a draft
any day now.

I tell you what,

I'll go down to the bank
again this morning.

Come off it, major.

Any draft you get goes
straight on the ponies.

Now, this hotel
ain't run

as a charitable
institution,

not no more.

You've all been
so jolly kind to me here.

Rather dug in now.

I just wish I could
think of a way of...

of paying you back.

I could
think of one, major.

STARR: Good afternoon,
my lords, my lady.

Major.

Ah.

Oh, Henry!

Hello,
Barty, old boy.

Haven't seen you
for years.

Anthea.

How splendid to
see you again.

Hope you're both
well.

Follow me
if you will.

Put up here
before?

HENRY: No.

Had to close up
the house in Belgrave Square.

Too big.

MAJOR: First-class
place, this.

Wonderful cooking.

HENRY: Splendid.

I hear there's
a fine lot of partridges

about in Norfolk
this season.

Oh, yes...

Hello, Starr.

My lord.

Hello, Fred.

I see we're celebrating
Mrs. Trotter's return.

Yes, my lord.

We're all
highly delighted

at her recovery.

And so am I.

Oh, Merriman,

bottle of wine in
Mrs. Trotter's room,

if you please.

Very good, my lord.

Charlie.

You've come back,
then.

Oh, I'm glad.

Of course I have.

This is my home.