Upstairs, Downstairs (1971–1975): Season 2, Episode 1 - The New Man - full transcript

Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Kirbridge return from their honeymoon and set up their new household in nearby Greenwich.

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Acorn Media

Now, Rose, as soon
as Miss Elizabeth arrives --

Who, Mr. Hudson?

Mrs. Kirbridge.

As soon as
Mr. and Mrs. Kirbridge arrive,

you can go straight upstairs
and pack your case.

I'll have to leave it open
for me dress and apron.

Yes. It won't take you a moment
to change and to luncheon.

Put all your things ready
to change into.

I don't want you to be keeping
Mr. and Mrs. Kirbridge waiting

when they're ready to set off
for Greenwich.



No, Mr. Hudson.

There.

Oh, Mrs. Bridges.

Ooh, that looks lovely,
Mrs. Bridges.

It always was Miss Lizzie's
favorite dessert.

Whose, Rose?

I hope Mr. and Mrs. Kirbridge
enjoyed their honeymoon.

I gather from her ladyship

that Austria proved
perfectly satisfactory --

for those
who like foreign parts.

[Chuckles] I wouldn't like
to spend my honeymoon

among a lot of foreigners.

[ Hoofbeats ]

Ah.
Well, they're back now.



ELIZABETH:
How are you, Edward?

There's rather a lot of luggage,
I'm afraid.

But, Lawrence, have you not --
Oh, that's fine.

Where's my mother, Edward?

In the morning room, Miss --
M-Mrs. Kirbridge.

Well done, Edward!
You remembered.

Hello, darling.

Mother.

Lawrence.
You do look well.

Why didn't Edward take that
for you?

No. That's the one
with the presents in it.

- Put it on the table, Lawrence.
- Not there. It'll scratch.

It's all right!
I'll put it on the floor.

Did you have a good crossing?

Very good.
Didn't stop Lawrence being sick.

I don't know why people
who aren't seasick

are always so superior
to people who are.

Oh, Lawrence,
how I agree with you.

Whenever I'm lying in the cabin
feeling simply dreadful,

Elizabeth's father
flings open the door,

letting in blasts of fresh air

and says, "What you need is
a brisk walk 'round the deck."

Throughout our married life

it's happened every time we've
crossed the Channel together.

And it's obviously
going to happen with us, too.

Except that in our case Lawrence
is reclining in the cabin

and I'm walking about the deck,
letting in blasts of cold air.

[ Door opens ]

Hudson!
How lovely to see you.

- welcome back, Mrs. Kirbridge.
LAWRENCE: Hello, Hudson.

Good morning, sir.

Would you care for some sherry,
milady?

Lawrence?
LAWRENCE: Oh, thank you, yes.

Do you want to come upstairs
and take your hat off?

No, not till I find
your present.

HUDSON:
Sherry, madam?

No, thank you, Hudson.

I'll have some schnapps
if you've got some.

It's all right.
I'm only joking.

Yes, I will have some.
Put it over there, would you?

Sit down, Lawrence.
Elizabeth is rummaging.

Your father's so sorry
he couldn't be here.

He had to have lunch
at the House

with a tiresome constituent

who didn't like the line he took
on old-age pensions.

Well, if Father knows
he was right,

I don't know why he bothers
with him.

Or is the man a large
contributor to party funds?

MARJORIE: Thank you, Hudson.
- HUDSON: Milady.

MARJORIE:
Oh, Hudson, is Rose ready?

- Yes, milady.
Ready for what?

It's a surprise that Hudson
and I have concocted between us.

Good.
I like surprises -- usually.

Look!
I got this for Henrietta.

Oh, it's, uh, charming.

One should perhaps mention that
it wasn't bought for its beauty

but for its social significance.

Good heavens.
Really?

You see, we went into this big
shop in the...something-strasse.

- The Something-Strasse.
- Yes.

Well, they were selling
hand-carved boxes and things

at enormous prices.

And I went to the back
of the shop,

and there was this little man,

working away in a dreadfully bad
light, carving them.

So I told Lawrence
to hold the owner of the shop

-in conversation --
- Yes. That wasn't easy.

He wasn't interested
in politics,

and the only poet
he'd ever heard of was Byron.

Well, anyway, Lawrence managed
to keep him out of the way

while I asked the old man

if he hadn't something
of his own to sell.

And he brought out this.

So I was able
to buy it from him direct

Without any horrid middleman
taking the profit.

That's cheating
the unfortunate shopkeeper

who was paying the rent
and taxes

and making sure
the old man didn't starve.

Never mind. It was a blow
against sweated labour.

And I know
Henrietta will approve.

[Chuckling ] Darling,
you haven't changed a bit.

Haven't I, Mother?

Did Miss Elizabeth enjoy
her peaches corberre?

She did indeed, Mrs. Bridges,
and she says

she's coming downstairs
to tell you so herself.

Oh, good gracious!

I must put on a clean apron.
I'm not fit to be seen.

I hope Mr. Kirbridge
isn't coming down, too.

No. I believe he has to leave
very shortly.

He has an appointment
with a publisher.

Isn't he going to Greenwich
with Miss Elizabeth?

Their first day
in their new home.

Apparently not, Mrs. Bridges.

I thought Lady Marjorie seemed
a wee bit put out about it.

I'm not surprised.

Mr. Kirbridge spoke to me
ever so nicely.

- Didn't he, Mr. Hudson?
- Oh, he's always been

a very pleasant,
easygoing young gentleman.

Ruby.

ROSE: I thought he looked
handsomer than ever.

Handsome is as handsome does.

Now, Rose, as soon
as we start serving coffee,

you can go straight upstairs
and change.

I won't be a minute, Mr. Hudson.

[Clattering]

Oh, Ruby!
What have you broken now?!

Get out of here!

Do you think
you're gonna miss us, Rose,

when you go down
to Greenwich, eh?

- whee!
- Ow!

You made me spill it!

I tell you, Edward, if I miss
you, it'll be a good miss.

[Chuckles] I bet you have
some laughs out there.

I hope Rose will have
no such thing.

And, Rose,
while I'm on the subject...

- Yes, Mr. Hudson?
- Mrs. Kirbridge

not being experienced
as lady of the house,

it will be up to you
to maintain standards

in the kitchen and elsewhere.

There'll be a cook in charge
of the kitchen, Mr. Hudson.

Oh, that's very true,
Mrs. Bridges.

But a cook general
is not quite the same

as, uh, well, as what
we're accustomed to here.

Oh.

I'm not suggesting

that Rose should usurp
her authority in the kitchen.

But as far as serving,
dishing up,

running the household
is concerned,

you will have very big
responsibilities, Rose.

I want to be sure
that you take them seriously.

Oh, I will, Mr. Hudson.

I will.

You mean I can have Rose?

I thought you'd be pleased.
Mind you, you can't keep her.

I'm only lending her to you.
It's just to settle you in.

Oh, but that's marvelous.

Dear Rose.
What a difference it'll make.

I was dreading
having to give orders

to a lot of strange servants.

I've found you quite
a good cook -- Mrs. Fellowes.

Of course, with a cook general,
you don't expect

quite the same standards,

but her references are good,
and I saw her former employer.

Oh?
Did you really, Lady Marjorie?

That was a great deal of trouble
to take.

I never trust
Written references.

After all,
when you employ servants,

you're taking them
into your house,

bringing them into contact
with your children.

Everything they do
reflects on you.

In a sense,
their reputation is yours.

Oh, what a terrifying thought.

I hate being responsible
for other people.

It's bad enough
being responsible for oneself.

All bachelors feel like that.

That's why perennial bachelors
are such trivial people.

When you marry, you
have to accept responsibility.

All this just because
We're engaging a cook.

Who was her former employer?
Why did she leave?

- Had she been burning the soup?
- No.

She was in the household
of a bank manager

who'd been appointed
to a branch in Manchester.

His wife said Mrs. Fellowes
was clean and capable

but hadn't a great range
of dishes.

Never mind. I'll teach her
some Viennese cooking.

Tafelspitz.
Germknödel.

Apfelstrudel.
Sacher torte.

Well, don't alarm her too much
at first.

I should let her settle in
with cutlets and trifle.

More coffee, Lawrence?

No. No, thank you.
I really ought to be going.

I hope your publisher's
encouraging

and offers you a lot of money.

Oh, I don't suppose he'll offer
any money.

Really?

I thought if he published
your poems,

he'd naturally pay you for it.

I mean, people buy books,
don't they?

So surely...

Well, of course I really know
nothing about publishing.

No.

Lawrence hopes to write
some articles.

He'll get paid for those.

The Pall Mall Gazette have asked
him for two reviews already.

Oh, but that's splendid.

And I suppose it's the same
as with everything else.

You start in a small way
and work your way up.

Except that a poet isn't exactly
like a draper's assistant,

moving on through socks and ties
to, uh, to silk handkerchiefs.

Perhaps what we should really do
is open a poetry shop

in the Strand and sell
your poems over the counter.

Well, anyway, you've
plenty of time to look around

and decide what you want to do.

And meanwhile, you should be
able to live at Greenwich

very economically.

I agreed on £30 a year
for the cook.

I hope you feel
that's all right.

I suppose so, if that's
what cooks usually get.

Your father and I will pay
Rose's wages

as our contribution.

You'll need a kitchen maid,
but that should only cost...

£16 a year.

So, well, apart
from a jobbing gardener...

ELIZABETH:
And Lawrence's manservant.

Lawrence's...
Manservant.

I'm sorry.
I-l...

No, it's all right. I advertised
for one before we left.

MARJORIE: well, I haven't
received any applications.

No. No, well, I gave
my mother's address for replies.

I didn't want to bother you.

Ah.
Yes. I see.

You don't think a manservant
might be rather expensive?

I doubt if you could pay
less than £50 a year.

It might be a good idea
to have a boot boy.

Oh, no. No, no, no.
Must have a manservant.

It's such a delightful
expression -- "my manservant."

It sets one's standards.

It gives one something
to live up to.

Well, don't you think
if you had a boot boy,

you could set standards for him?

Well, it wouldn't be the same.

No.

Well, if you feel it wouldn't
put too much of a strain

on your finances.

I'm sure we shall manage
beautifully.

Well, thank you, Lady Marjorie,
for a delicious lunch.

I'll see you at Greenwich,
Elizabeth.

I suppose I'll have to take
all the luggage.

Yes, of course. I don't want to
drag it all over Holborn.

You're going
straight to Greenwich.

Greenwich --
That means greenwood.

I think I shall call it that.

"We live
under the greenwood tree."

ls there a tree in the garden?

I don't remember.

Well, we'll have to plant one.

[ Door closes]

Elizabeth...

You didn't ask
if I'd like any more coffee.

I think I would.

Oh, sorry.

Darling?

Yes?

The income
from your marriage settlement

will only bring in £700 a year.

So with Lawrence not earning
any, well, regular...

You'll have to be very careful
about money.

Well, really, Mother, I think
you've made that quite plain.

I don't feel we're heading
so much for our first home

as for the workhouse.

Oh, darling.
You know I didn't mean...

I really only wanted to say...

Well, when your father and I
were married...

Yes?

Oh, what is it, Mother?

I think you'd better come out
with it.

You'll feel much better.

Well, when I married your
father, he wasn't a rich man.

He isn't now, is he?

No.

What's mine is his, naturally,
but it isn't easy for a man

to marry a wife whose family
has more money than he has.

Oh, Mother,
we don't care about that.

Money isn't as important to us
as it is to you.

Money's always important
if you haven't enough of it.

Let Lawrence make the decisions,
darling, especially about money.

Your marriage will never succeed
if you don't.

- But it will succeed if I do?
- well...

Elizabeth...

I think I better go
and see Mrs. Bridges.

Is she better now?

Yes, quite recovered.

Though she'll never get over
missing your wedding.

Don't forget to mention
the peaches.

[ Door closes]

I'm very glad you enjoyed it.

I wish you could come
and cook it for me at Greenwich.

Oh.

Well, I'm sure

her ladyship's found you
a very good cook, miss.

A good, plain cook,
she said she was.

But not like you, Mrs. Bridges.

[Chuckling]
Oh, well.

Miss Elizabeth, you want to
start as you mean to go on.

Do as her ladyship does.

See cook's accounts every week
and make sure they tally.

I'm sure she wouldn't mean
to cheat you,

but a penny here and a penny
there soon mounts up,

and slipshod ways cost money.

Yes, Mrs. Bridges.
Thank you.

Oh, I almost forgot.

I brought you a present
from Vienna.

Well, for all of you,
for everybody.

Oh.

You open it, Mr. Hudson.

No, no, Mrs. Bridges.
You open it.

Oh, all right.

Oh, look.

Oh.

Oh.
Well, now, that's very...

Open the lid.

[Slow music playing ]

Oh.

-[ Chuckles ]
- Oh, it's a music box.

- Oh, isn't that lovely?
EDWARD: what's that tune, then?

"Tales from the Vienna woods."

Oh.

Rose!

Are you ready?

[Music continues]

I suppose we'd better go.

[ Music stops]

Fancy.
A lady dancing in kitchen.

You must remember, Ruby,

that Mrs. Kirbridge grew up
here in this house.

She'll never grow up,
not altogether --

not that young lady.

Bless her.

Edward, get out the luggage
while I fetch a cab.

- Look sharp, now.
- Now, Ruby,

get on with them tureens.

[ Gasps ]

Rose.
What on earth is the matter?

Oh, Miss Lizzie.

Good afternoon.

Who are you?
What do you want?

I've come to see Mr. Kirbridge.

- Miss Lizzie...
- what?

ROSE:
He looks like a debt collector.

Don't say we're being done
before we even move in.

Don't let him inside.

- would you be Mrs. Kirbridge?
- Yes.

Well, I had your letter, ma'am.

You see, it -- it says to come
for an interview at 4:00.

- Interview?
- For the post of valet.

This isn't my hand--

Oh, yes.

This is from
my husband's mother.

Well, I'm afraid Mr. Kirbridge
isn't here at the moment.

Perhaps you could come back
another day.

Oh.

Oh, well, I...

I-I've come along way,
see, ma'am.

Oh. Um...

Very well.
I'll see you myself.

Oh, thanks very much, ma'am.

Rose, open the door so we
can get all the stuff inside.

Oh, a-allow me, ma'am.

Thank you.

[Hoofbeats birds chirping]

[Bell chiming in distance]

Oh!

Well, you did say
you'd see me now, ma'am.

ELIZABETH:
Yes. Of course.

Do sit down.

Thanks very much, ma'am.

[ Door opens ]

Excuse me, madam.

Would you like me to pay
the cab driver?

ELIZABETH:
Oh. Oh, yes.

Yes, please, Rose.

What is your name?

Watkins, ma'am.
Thomas Watkins.

And, um, you have
some references, of course.

Oh, yes.

Yes. I've got a letter here
from my last employer.

Abergavenny.

Oh, I don't think I could go
to Abergavenny,

Wherever that may be.

It's in wales.

I thought it might be.

[ Door closes]

Your purse, madam.

Thank you, Rose.

Uh, didn't my mother say

that the cook
was supposed to be here?

Yes, madam.

I'll go and see where she is.

Why did you leave
your last employer?

He was going to Australia,
ma'am.

Oh.
Didn't you want to go with him?

No.

No, not enough scope there,
from what I hear.

Well, I don't know

that there's going to be
a great deal of scope here.

What would my duties be?

Duties?
Yes. Yes. Duties.

Well, uh, to look after the
master's clothing, I suppose,

light the fire in his
dressing room, keep it tidy.

Clean the boots,
fill coal scuttles.

Clean the boots?

If you wouldn't mind.

So I'd be his footman valet?

Yes.

We'd like you to wait at table
and -- and help out generally.

Indoors, that is.

We thought we'd get
a jobbing gardener for --

Oh, I'll look after the garden
for you, if you like.

Oh. Yes.
All right.

ROSE:
Cook?

Cook?

Are you there?

[Latch clicks]

Oh.

Here, now.

I thought you'd come
while I was out.

I hope you thought to put
something on the fire.

We've only just got here.

Besides, it is not my place
to make up the kitchen fire.

Oh.
There, now.

I suppose you'll be wanting
a bit of hot supper tonight.

And the master and mistress
will be wanting their dinner.

Well, I can't do everything,
not with my leg.

The master will be dining out
tonight.

Oh. There, now.
And I got some nice chops in.

I thought he'd fancy them.

Oh, well.

I feel they're going to be
always coming and going.

I don't like a household where
they're always coming and going.

And like I told her ladyship,

I can't do any heavy work,
not with my leg.

What would the wages be?

£50.

£50 a year
and a suit of clothes.

- A livery?
- No, no.

I don't want you in a livery.

Oh.

You see, you'd really be
my husband's valet.

I think a black suit
would be appropriate.

Right you are, ma'am. when
would you like me to start?

- Start?
- well, I can get my things

and be with you
tomorrow morning, if you like.

Oh, yes. Alright.

Perhaps you could come
fairly early

so that my husband
could see you.

Right you are, ma'am.

Excuse me, madam.

Have you engaged that young man?

I rather think I must have.

What on earth time
did you get in last night?

Just after midnight.

You were sound asleep.

Midnight?
But the last train...

I went for a walk.

Lawrence.

I was waiting for you.

LAWRENCE: Oh.

Were you?

I thought you'd be tired out

after all your little wifely,
nest-making activities.

No, I got off the train and
it was such a glorious night.

I could hear
Queen Elizabeth dancing

in a ghostly but compelling
manner down at the old palace.

So I went for a walk
up to the top of the hill,

and I sat on a gate
and I wrote a poem.

I chanted it to myself
very loudly all the way back.

And when I came in,
you were sleeping,

like a rather tousled Madonna.

I thought it was a shame
to wake you.

So I didn't.

Oh.

Mrs. Fellowes...

Mrs. Fellowes, have you seen

the big warming dish,
the silver one?

Oh, it must be there somewhere.

Oh, there, now.

I thought those sausages
had burst.

And I pricked
every last one of them.

ROSE: I know it's here
somewhere. I want to know where.

It's called a chafing dish.
It holds water at the bottom.

I know they've got one,
'cause I've seen it.

They was given one
as wedding present.

There was a big dish
up on top of the dresser.

Well, what's it doing there?

It's supposed to be kept
with the rest of the silver.

Mrs. Fellowes, have we
by any chance got a stepladder?

Oh, out by the coal hole.

How do they like their bacon?

I don't know!

Oh.

Oh.

I wonder if I've got time

to slip 'round the corner
and get some kidneys.

I can't serve burst sausages.

ROSE: Mrs. Fellowes, would you
give us a hand, please?

Mrs. Fellowes, could you come
and take it from me, please?

Oh, no!

Look at me apron.

Oh, I-l can't serve breakfast
like this.

You shouldn't have put
your clean one on

-till you were ready.
- I thought I was ready.

Oh.

Course, in me last place,
we had a kitchen maid

to do the dirty work.

Yes.

Well, we had kitchen maid,
footman, butler,

and another house parlourmaid.

Oh, daresay you did.

But you haven't now.

How you'll manage when
you've got all the fires to do,

I don't know.

And I can't do any heavy work,
not with my leg.

I told her ladyship that
from the start.

ELIZABETH: I forgot to tell you.
Your man's coming this morning.

Man?

Footman/valet, valet/footman.

Oh, my manservant.

He came for an interview
with you yesterday,

and as you weren't here,
I saw him.

Good.
What's he like?

I don't know.

I don't think Rose liked him
very much.

We're not engaging him
for Rose, are we?

No, but she'll have to work
with him.

Lawrence,
there's an article about you.

Really?

"Alone among the younger poets,
Lawrence Kirbridge

is able to express
new and exciting thoughts

in a language of classic style
and simplicity."

- who is it by?
- Uh, Stephen Keating.

Oh, so this
is the little surprise

-he said he'd got for me.
- Do you know him?

Yes. we had dinner with him
last night.

I thought you were having dinner
with your tutor from Cambridge.

We met Stephen Keating
with some friends.

He took us all
to the Café Royal.

I talked about Austria

and was frightfully witty
about lederhosen,

people who said "Gruss gott"

every time they tripped
over your feet in the park.

So Stephen's going to get me
a commission

to write some articles about it.

But that's marvellous.

Yes.

Isn't it?

Mrs. Fellowes,
if you would do the plates

before doing your pots and pans,
I could finish the drying up

-and get on with me work.
-[ Bell rings]

Oh, there, now.

I thought the tradesmen
would be calling 'round

-for their orders soon.
- I'll go.

It's probably the new man.

Ooh.

- Oh.
- Good morning.

- You'd better come inside.
- Yeah.

Well, I'm not gonna get very far

standing outside on the step,
am I?

Good morning.

You can put that there.

Then come upstairs

and I'll see if the master
is able to see you.

I think I'm going to buy
dozens of copies of this

and send it to all my friends.

I mean, there's no point
in being famous

-if nobody knows about it.
- You can't go now!

Why not?

ELIZABETH: That man's coming.
- well, you see him.

I saw him yesterday.

Besides, you've got to decide
if you like him.

I never know if I like people.

Tell him I'll, um...
Tell him I'll take him on trial.

Oh.

Excuse me, sir.
The new man is here to see you.

Ah. Um...

All right.
Let him come in.

[ Door closes]

- Good morning.
- Good morning, sir.

What is your name?

- Thomas Watkins, sir.
- Ah.

Do you like being called
Thomas or Watkins?

Oh, "Thomas" will do nicely,
thank you, sir.

Good. Good.

Have you any references?

Yes, sir.
Madame already seen them, sir.

His last employer
lived in Abergavenny.

Abergavenny?

Oh.

What wages would you like?

Well, madam suggested
£50 a year, sir.

And, uh, is that, um...

Oh, that's quite satisfactory,
sir, thank you.

Oh, good.
Good.

Well, if -- if that's all, sir.

Yes. Yes, I think so.
Thank you.

Where shall I put my things,
ma'am?

Rose will show you.

[Bell rings]

Do you like poetry?

Well, I'm not familiar
with a great deal, sir.

I used to know "The boy stood
on the burning deck."

LAWRENCE Music?

Well, I've been known to display
a light baritone, sir --

in the right time
and the right place, of course.

Yes. well, we weren't
going to ask you oblige us now.

Oh, I didn't think
you were, sir.

Oh, Rose, uh, will you show
Thomas where to put his things?

There's a room behind
the kitchen, isn't there?

Yes, madam, where the boot boy
was to sleep.

- Yes. well, you can...
- Only there isn't no bed.

There's a spare bed
in the attic, Rose.

If you ask Thomas, I'm sure
he'll help you down with it.

Then you could buy some material

and make some curtains and --
and a bedcover.

- Fix it up nicely for him.
- Me, madam?

Oh, come along, Rose.
Come along. Never know.

You may discover a whole
new range of hidden talents.

You may design such a beautiful
little bough for Thomas

in the basement

that people will be coming
from miles around to see it.

Just like, well,
just like the Great Exhibition.

Yes, sir.

LAWRENCE:
Pity about Rose.

- Pity?
- Mm.

Do you remember
that day she came to tea

at Henrietta's lodgings?

She didn't
exactly let her hair down,

but she laughed, she talked.

She looked almost pretty.

Rose?
- Mm.

Now she looks every day,
more and more,

-like an acidulated spinster.
- No, she doesn't.

- It's all wrong, you know.
- what is?

We take these young girls --
just think of it --

thousands of them
from all over the country --

and we shut them up
in servants' halls,

put them in unbecoming uniforms,

tell them they can't have
any followers,

and they end up as a deadly army

of elderly,
muffin-serving virgins.

All those girls
with the names of flowers --

Rose, Violet...Primrose.

I never heard of a house maid
called Primrose.

[Clicks tongue]

If I had my way, Rose would be
wearing diaphanous clothes

and go floating about the house,

singing,
with flowers in her hair.

That'll be enough,
Mrs. Fellowes.

That'll be enough,
Mrs. Fellowes.

Mrs. Kirbridge
isn't very partial to soup.

Well, I hope she likes that,

after all the trouble
I've taken.

Best beef broth there is,
in that.

ROSE: when they've finished
their soup, I will tell Thomas,

and he'll come down
to get the next course.

What do you mean, tell me?
I'll be able to see for myself.

You'll be waiting outside
for the dirty dishes.

Oh, no, I won't.

- I'll be serving.
-[ Chuckles ]

If you mean waiting at table,
no, you will not.

- I am the parlourmaid.
- And I'm the footman.

Come on. Live and let live.
We'll serve at table together.

Come on.

By the way, the Anstees
have asked me for the weekend.

They've asked you.
What about me?

- Hmm?
- Don't they know you're married?

What, you mean
that husbands and wives

should always go everywhere
together?

Now, we don't believe
in those absurd conventions.

I'm sure the Anstees don't
either.

I notice you believe in absurd
conventions when they suit you.

Now, when did I ever believe
in absurd conventions?

When we got married.

But that was to please
your parents.

And your mother.

Oh, no. Oh, no.
No, you're quite wrong there.

She didn't want me to marry you
at all.

Who are the Anstees, anyway?

- There you are.
- where am I?

In a state of abysmal ignorance.

What am I supposed to do
with this?

I think the idea
is that you should carve it.

Oh.

[Sighs]

The damn thing is full of bone.

Would you prefer me
to carve it, sir?

Yes, I think you'd better.

If there's one thing

that's designed to turn me
into a vegetarian overnight,

it's trying to hack lumps
of meat off a charred carcass

and then being asked to eat
the damn things.

My grandfather says
that carving is an art

which every gentleman
should be proud to practice.

Mm.

Since your grandfather's notion
of art

is centered firmly
on Frith's "Derby Day"

and Tennyson's
"Idylls of the King,"

I don't feel
too utterly cast down

at being unable
to live up to his ideals.

You still haven't told me
who the Anstees are.

They're the most
important people

in the literary world today.

Good.
Then I should like to meet them.

I don't think they'd amuse you.

I don't always need
to be amused!

They are the centre of a circle.

- who are?
- The Anstees.

Oh.

What's this?

Artichokes, madam.

You know I don't like
artichokes.

Tell Mrs. Fellowes
not to get any more.

As it happens, I like artichokes
very much indeed.

Very well, Rose.

Tell Mrs. Fellowes
only to get artichokes

when I am away for the weekend
and Mr. Kirbridge is here.

Yes, madam.

What kind of circle?

Writers, poets, painters.

Either you're, uh...

Either you're in the circle
or you're not.

ELIZABETH: And what
do the Anstees actually do?

They don't do anything.

They are.

They're patrons of the arts.

Good.

Perhaps they'll give you
some money.

Do you know, you sound
exactly like your mother.

[Water splashing]

I think I'll go to bed.

Are you coming?

Yes.
All right.

I'll just finish this poem.

[ Footsteps ]

- Good night, ma'am.
- Good night.

[Sighs]

Put your foot in here.

What?

Put your foot up in here.

I'll do no such thing.

I clean everybody else's shoes
'round here.

I might as well clean yours.

Now, there's a neat foot.

Oh?

My mother used to say

you can tell a lady
by her hands and her feet.

She was quite right.

Here. Come on. I can't get
a proper purchase there.

Here.
Watch it.

You shouldn't be doing this,
by rights.

It's not your place.

I don't believe
in people having places.

ROSE: Hm.
Be a funny world if they didn't.

You ever seen a grave?

Grave?

THOMAS:
When it's just been dug.

Very deep and very narrow.

Once I did.

I think a lot of people,
soon as they're born,

they'll put their feet together
and their hands by their sides,

and there they are
for the rest of their lives --

all ready for their graves.

I don't believe in that.

Don't you?

No, I believe in making
the most of life for yourself

and for other people.

After all, we're all
in it together, aren't we?

Mm.
Yes, I suppose we are.

So we might as well enjoy it.

Well, come on.
Give me the other one.

Oh.

[Whispering]
Elizabeth.

You asleep?

[ Door closes]

Oh, come on, Rose. Come and help
me to open these presents.

ROSE: Oh, madam,
I've got my work to do.

Well, you work for me now,
so you have to do what I want.

Daresay but you wouldn't like it

if doing what you want
meant the whole house got dirty.

I'd rather be knee-deep in dirt
than open these by myself.

Go on, Rose.
Go and get the others.

There's something
very depressing

about presents which arrive
after the wedding.

It's like guests
that come on the wrong day.

They look slightly ridiculous.

You don't know what on earth
to do with them.

Well, don't be long.
I've got my bedrooms to do.

And, madam, what about
the trunks still at Eaton Place?

We're running very short
of linen.

I'm sending Thomas for them.

Thomas?

He can take the train
tomorrow afternoon.

Oh.

How do you get on with him?

Oh, better than I expected,
I must say.

Oh, come on.
Don't be so stuffy, Rose.

He may be rather
a rough diamond --

Oh, he's not a rough diamond,
madam.

Oh?

What on earth is...

Oh!

Oh, how simply appalling-.

I can't put it up anywhere here.
Lawrence would have a fit.

Who's it from, Rose?

Oh, uh,
Mr. J. Hetherington-Grass.

Oh, he's that rather vulgar
millionaire friend of Father's.

Must be worth a fortune.

Good.
Least we can hook it.

Do what?

Put it up the spout.

Here, madam. where ever do you
learn such strange expressions?

Oh, I've learned a lot
while I've been away, Rose.

Doesn't it show?

After all,
I'm a woman of the world now,

with grave responsibilities.

Well, you look cheerful enough
to me.

Oh, yes, I am -- very cheerful.

I've come back from my honeymoon
with stars in my eyes

and a house in Greenwich.

And a hideous alabaster vase
which we could take to uncle

when we run short of cash...
which we certainly shall.

There is money in the family?

Oh, yes. Her ladyship's family
is quite wealthy.

Big house in the country?

Mm. Southwold.
I was born there.

Well, on the estate.

Oh, it's beautiful.

You should see the hothouses.

Well, they've got nectarines,
peaches, grapes.

Course, it's more than
your life's worth to go inside.

Yes.

Big stuff there, I shall expect?

Oh, yes.
Very big.

Well, I say, it's bigger than
this whole house put together.

Bigger even than the servants'
hall at Eaton Place.

Eaton Place?

What's it like at Eaton Place?

Well, it's what I'd call
friendly but dignified.

Dignified?

Mm.

They were all friendly
belowstairs,

but we know where we are.

You mean you have to know
your place.

Oh, yes.
Mr. Hudson sees to that.

Mr. Hudson?

[ Hoofbeats ]

Good afternoon.
Mr. Hudson?

I am.

I've come to collect
Mrs. Kirbridge's trunks.

So you're
Mr. Kirbridge's new man.

I am.
Thomas Watkins.

Her ladyship mentioned the fact
that you would be coming.

Come in, please.

Mrs. Bridges.

- Pleased to meet you.
- How do you do?

This is Edward.

This is Ruby, my kitchen maid.

Ruby, go and finish laying
the tea in the servants' hall.

We, uh, have our tea
a little later.

I suppose we can't ask you
to join us?

Ah, no, no.
I have to be going.

I have to catch the train
back to Greenwich.

Mr. Kirbridge will be wanting to
change for dinner, see?

Oh.

Well, perhaps you'd like, uh,
just a cup of tea now?

Oh, well, that's very kind
of you.

Thanks very much, Mrs. Bridges.

I shall arrange for the trunks

to be brought down
while you're having your tea.

Come along, Edward.

Um, yes, Mr. Hudson.

[Liquid pouring]

I don't suppose there'd be

a piece of your walnut cake
around, Mrs. Bridges?

My walnut cake!

How ever did you hear
about that?

Well, Rose just happened
to mention it, see?

[Chuckling]
Oh.

Well, I'm afraid
we had the last slice yesterday.

Oh.

But perhaps you'd like to try
a slice of my cherry cake.

Oh, lovely, yeah.

Oh, uh, sit down, Mr. Watkins.

Thank you very much,
Mrs. Bridges.

There.

So, you're valeting
Mr. Kirbridge, are you?

Yes.
Yes, that's right.

But you're a footman as well?

Well, I've said I'd put my hand
to anything that's needed,

you know.

Oh, you want to watch that.

I like it best
when everybody knows their place

and what they've got to do.

When they don't,

the servants get put upon,
and then everybody suffers.

Yes. well, I don't think
I'll get put upon, Mrs. Bridges.

See, I-l don't mind what I do
as long as people are pleasant.

Oh.
I'm just the same.

There, now.

Oh, thanks very much,
Mrs. Bridges.

And, uh,
how are Mr. and Mrs. Kirbridge

finding things
in their new home?

Quite a love nest, I daresay.

Oh, yes.
Yes.

Oh, it's a good thing
he doesn't have to keep on going

to that House of Commons,
like Mr. Bellamy.

THOMAS: Oh.

Mind, he's got
a lot of engagements --

you know,
lunches and dinners and such.

Oh?

Now, you just taste that cake
and see how you like it.

You know, it looks grand.

You know, that's the best
cherry cake I ever tasted.

Oh.
[ Chuckles ]

Well, next time you come,

you must try my walnut cake
and see which you prefer.

So, uh, Mr. Kirbridge
has to be away from home

-quite a bit, then?
- Mm.

Most days,
he goes off up to town.

You know, you never know
when he'll be back.

Oh, well, of course
Mr. Kirbridge

isn't used to living
in a household yet.

No.
Not la vie bohème, eh?

Oh, no.
I didn't mean anything wrong.

No.
No, course not.

But a bachelor gets accustomed

to going and coming
as he pleases

and having meals at all hours
and sitting up half the night.

He does that, all right.

Does what?

Well, I-l suppose
it's with him being a poet.

You know, he's --
he's got into the habit

of working by himself
late at night.

By himself?

Late at night?

Oh, well...

They'll soon be setting up their
nurseries, I wouldn't wonder.

Cab's here, Mr. Watkins.

♫ Dee da dum ♫

♫ Dee da dum ♫

♫ Dee-dee da dum ♫

What a row.

♫ Dee da dum ♫

♫ Dee dee-dee da dum ♫

I suppose she'll be going about
with flowers in her hair next.

Hmm?

What on earth is the matter
with her?

Could it be that the desires
of Rose, the virginal nymph,

are aroused by the dark
masculinity of the welsh beau?

I find that remark cheap
and disgusting.

I'd better go and see
if Thomas is packing my things.

[ Door closes]

[Exhales deeply]

[Clears throat]

Do you like being a valet?

Oh, I've no objection to it.

I would have thought it'd be
rather a dead-end job.

I wouldn't say that, sir.

Not many valets
become prime minister.

Not many poets do either.

Uh, did you want to take
this tie with you, sir?

LAWRENCE:
Yes. It goes with those socks.

Ah, it should have been cleaned,
really.

No mind.
I'll give it a press later.

Yes, every job's got scope
in it, sir, if you look for it.

And, um...

And what scope can you find
in being a valet, hmm?

Well, let's see, sir.

Uh, you might become, uh, famous

and travel all over the world
reading your poetry, see?

Well, uh, naturally,
I'd come with you,

and I-l might meet one
of those rich American ladies.

There's lots of them about,
I believe --

Widows and such, like --
and I'd marry her, see?

Or, uh, maybe we'd go
to South Africa

and, uh, I'd be playing cards

with a man who --
who couldn't pay

but, uh, he'd give me
a worthless scrap of paper

that'd turn out to be
a diamond mine.

So there you are --
millionaire again.

Oh, there's always scope
somewhere, sir.

Meanwhile, you press my ties?

Ah.

Well, sir, you --
you have to do a good job

on whatever you're doing
at the moment, sir.

I mean, you have to do that.

Otherwise you can't
take advantage of the scope

when you find it, see?

Do you ever wear these, sir?

Yes, of course I do.
Why?

Well, they are a bit like
a coster's night out, isn't he?

They are my walking socks.

Since we shall be going for long
walks all over the Downs,

I shall certainly
be needing them.

Very good, sir.

[ Door closes]

I wish you weren't going.

Oh, I'm sure it'll be
dreadfully dull.

- You'll be much happier here.
- Not without you.

- Oh.
Lawrence...

...while you're away,
will you think about us?

Of course I will.

I do love you.

Well, I love you, too.

- No, don't say it like that.
- How should I say it?

You -- You make it sound
so easy.

It's not easy at all.

I must go and change.

I'll miss my train.

[ Chuckles ]

Here, Thomas.
Do you ever go down the mines?

No.

No. Dad said I was too bright
for that.

So he sent me to school.

But then he died.

Mum needed the money coming in.

So I went to work
in a bicycle shop.

What did you do?

Mended punctures, mostly.

Mending punctures
to cleaning boots.

I haven't progressed very far,
have I?

Yes, you have.

See, you only clean boots now
to oblige.

[ Laughter, indistinct talking]

You know, sitting here
with you mending my coat,

We're like an old married
couple, aren't we?

Not quite.

Here, Thomas.

Your last job
can't have been very good

or they wouldn't have let you
wear a coat like this.

Well, I suppose
they didn't notice.

Yeah.

Well, that'll have to do until
the master gets you a new one.

You know, I think you must be
the nicest, kindest,

prettiest girl
in the whole world.

Oh, you're just saying that.

- Am I?
- Mm.

Try me.

[ Gasps ]

- THOMAS: Come on.
ROSE: [Chuckles ] what?

- Come on, Rose.
-[ Laughs ]

N-No, Thomas.
No.

It wouldn't be right.

You love me.
That's right enough, isn't it?

Well, m-maybe, but if it doesn't
feel right, then it isn't right.

You're a funny girl, aren't you?

Mm?

Here.
Tell you what I'll do with you.

I'll make a bargain.

I close my eyes, blindman bluff,
chase you 'round the kitchen.

If I catch you, you've got to
give me a proper kiss, right?

[ Laughs ]
I don't accept.

You have to accept.

- One.
- I...

- Two. Three.
- Thomas, I don't.

That's not fair!

Right, I'm after you now.
-[ Laughs ]

Now, then, give us a clue
as to where you are.

ROSE: [Chuckling ] Oh.
- Now I can hear you.

ROSE: You're cheating.
- THOMAS: I can't see a...

- Ooh, mind the bin.
- Now I can hear you.

I can't hear you at all, Rose.

-[ Laughs ]
- Oh, there you are. Got you!

I've got you!

How dare you --
dare you behave like that!

I won't have it in my kitchen!
I won't!

[Voice breaking]
You can take a week's notice!

Both of you!

[ Sobs ]

[ Footsteps departing ]

[ Door slams ]

[Door opens, closes]

When would you like me to leave,
madam?

Oh, Rosie.

Rosie...

[ Sobs ]

Oh, Miss Lizzie.

[ Sobbing ]

Let me make you some hot milk.

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