All language subtitles for Devotion

Miss Branwell's package, Ted.

Here we are, Miss Branwell.

I think you'll find these will keep the
young ladies warm for the journey.

This is Miss Anne's and Miss Charlotte's.

Miss Emily I understand
will be with us yet awhile.

Yes, Mr Ames.
Miss Emily will remain at home.

Good day, Miss Branwell.

The Vicar's girls going into service.

What is the world coming to.

Good day, Lady Thornton,
this is indeed a pleasure.

Good day, Miss Branwell. Tell Miss
Charlotte that I received her letter.

And I am glad to accede to
her most unusual request.

Charles, give Miss Branwell the parcel.

No doubt, your niece intends to employ
it for some admirable domestic purpose.

But, but I think there must be
some mistake Lady Thornton.

There is no mistake, Miss Branwell.

Miss Charlotte writes
with a clear, bold hand.

A very bold hand, I may say.

Good day Miss Branwell.
To the Poorhouse, Charles.

Charlotte.

Charlotte

Emily .. Anne!

Charlotte! Branwell!

Emily, Charlotte, Anne!
─ Elisabeth.

I am endeavoring to compose
a sermon on the virtues of silence.

And I am endeavoring
to retain my composure.

Oh, that shameless girl!

May I ask what you are talking about?
─ Brown wrapping-paper!

The humiliation of it.
Tabby, where are the children?

Out yonder, I reckon.

Up on the moor.

Yes, and the gooseberries uncleaned and
the potatoes unpeeled, I have no doubt.

Your children, Mr Brontë.
─ Oh, yes.

They are always my children when
they incur your displeasure I notice.

But when you have reason to approve their
conduct, it is your brilliant nephew.

Your talented nieces.

Such occasions are
rare indeed, Mr Brontë.

Oh Branwell, please. Put me down.

Let me go, Branwell, let me go.

So your brother cannot paint nor write.
Are you still of that opinion sister Anne?

I never said that.

I said it's not your place to announce
your genius at the top of your lungs.

I think I know my place, Anne. And you
very shortly, are going to know yours.

Emily! Charlotte!

Branwell, put me down!

Branwell, please.

In the middle of the stream,
Anne, is a deep pool.

At the bottom of the pool
there dwells a large eel.

Emily! Charlotte!

It is my intention to
drop you in that pool.

Let me go, Branwell or I shall drown.

Drowning was good enough for Shelley and
he was a better poet than you are, Anne.

Very well, drown me.
─ Branwell!

Really, your sense of humour is
becoming more warped every day.

Put her down, you great bully.
─ Certainly, Charlotte.

Branwell, you beast!

Branwell!

You have a very pretty nose, Anne.

Very pretty .. and
completely devoid of character.

She has a great deal more
character than you have, Branwell.

If you think that taking
positions as governesses.

To keep the wolf from the Brontë door
denotes character or even intelligence.

How you enjoy misinterpreting
our sentiments, Branwell.

Anne and I have quite other reasons for
seeking employment. Have we not, Anne?

Yes, we're doing it ..
─ We wish to see life.

Why?

So that we may write of what we see.

Oh, you sicken me with
your idealistic prattlings.

Come down from your
complacent cloud, Charlotte.

Come down and discover that Emily and
I have more talent in our little fingers.

Than ever will exist in
your busy, noble brain.

This is our last day at home.
Please don't spoil it.

Amid the world's wide din around.

I hear from far, a solemn sound.

Remember me.

Solemn as a funeral knell.

I hear that soft voice so, so well.

Cry, oh remember me.

Do you want to see the world, Emily?

Or are you content to stay
at home and rot with me?

This is my world.

Aren't we going on with
the painting, Branwell?

No, I'm not in the mood.

Don't be foolish, Emily.

You know by now that Branwell is never in
the mood to finish what he has begun.

You see, Emily? Already she has
started to talk like a governess.

Well, wait until you've been
one for a few months.

Then we shall see whether you are so
anxious to finish what you've begun.

Branwell.

Do you know why Charlotte and Anne are
undertaking their unpleasant occupation?

I've already explained our
reasons to Branwell, Emily.

What dark mystery is this?
What are you hiding from me?

Nobody is hiding anything.

Oh your schoolgirl secrets
bore me. I'm of to The Bull.

Emily, take my things home will you.
─ No, Branwell.

You take your own things home with you.

I'll bring them.

Good old Emily.

I sometimes wonder if
you really understand him.

The trouble is Charlotte, I think
I understand him only too well.

For what we are about to receive may
The Lord make us truly thankful.

Amen.

Am I to understand Charlotte you've
been asking charity at Thornton Hall?

Oh, has it come?

Yes, the reward of your
shame is there, Charlotte.

Thrown at me for all the parish to see.
─ Yes, there it is.

You may each take a quarter.
─ I take a third.

And I take it now.
─ Emily! You pirate.

I need some of this for Stone Gap.

I mean to lead a very full life.

The recording of which, will
require a great deal of paper.

And in the peace which will
inevitable follow your departure.

I intend to write a history of
stupendous length .. so!

Be seated!

I trust we'll overlook Emily's
unseemly conduct, Papa.

Charlotte!

It is your conduct that concerns me
chiefly at the moment, Charlotte.

The prohibitive cost of paper ..

Prevents us from buying the books we need
for our "scribblings" as you call them.

But wrapping-paper, when ironed and
cleaned makes for reasonable manuscript.

You have a certain
crafty logic, Charlotte.

That is high praise from you, Papa.
─ Oh, you artful hyena.

Where is Branwell?

He stopped in the village to
collect the letters, Papa.

The London coach must have been
and gone at least an hour ago.

Nothing of the sort.
The coach is frequently late.

I should have like all my family
around the table on your last evening.

Oh, Papa, you talk as if we're to be gone
a year. We shall be back by Christmas.

And you are not to work too
hard while we're gone, Papa.

No. Emily, see to it
that the new Curate ..

I have not forgotten, Miss, your
forwardness in writing to the Bishop.

For once, Charlotte has made good sense.
You cannot work as you have been doing.

And hope to preserve your health.

I explained to the bishop that the parish
of Haworth is a great burden for one man.

Really, Charlotte. The extent and nature
of your correspondence staggers me.

Besides, I do not like Curates.

Their sickly faces
depress me intolerably.

And where is Branwell?

One thing is certain. Another year in
this place will be the ruin of his genius.

Aunt is willing to advance us some money,
which will repay from our salaries.

In that way Branwell can stay in London to
gain his diploma from the Royal Academy.

No sacrifice that enabled Branwell to
develop his talents would be in vain.

That's what I feel, Anne.

There's no reason why he
shouldn't leave with us tomorrow.

We could all travel as
far as Keighley together.

Yes. To get him safely past
The Bull. That is most important.

Don't you think so, Emily?

I don't like the plan any more than he
will appreciate the sacrifice you make.

Very well.

We once decided no important decision
would be made unless we all agreed to it.

That being the case,
Branwell shall not go to London.

All the same, Emily. I think
you're behaving abominably.

Emily .. don't you want to help Branwell?

Yes, it was foolish of me to say that.
I know how fond you are of Branwell.

But I really cannot understand your
attitude, Emily. Neither can Anne.

No Emily, I'm afraid I care not.

I do not wish Branwell to go to London,
because he isn't ready for it.

I think it would kill him.
─ What nonsense. Branwell isn't a child.

I'm not going to argue
with you, Charlotte.

Don't be angry with me, Charlotte.

Goodnight, dear Anne.
─ Goodnight, dear Emily.

Don't say goodnight to her.

I'm sorry Charlotte,
but I've already said it.

Boss .. I gave you an order
a good ten minutes ago.

Aye Master Branwell.

You ordered three drinks and
danged if I know which to serve first.

Ungrateful wretch.

That's all the thanks I get for
filling his pub every evening.

Well, here you are.

You don't think I look like
that, Master Branwell, do you?

Yes, I'm afraid I do.

However since you're dissatisfied,
I'll let you off my usual fee.

Boss, where's that brandy I ordered?
─ Here is brandy, but where is money?

Charge it to my account.
─ But you've got no account here.

I should hope not.

My account is with posterity.

No, Master Branwell, this very
morning, your good Aunt..

I thank you sir, not to bandy a
lady's name about the temple.

Now my good sir,
it's your turn to be immortalized.

I can't make a good job of
it unless you sit still you know.

There!

My best work this evening and it is only
going to cost you one glass of brandy.

You lucky man.

You cannot make a
face with three strokes.

I can.

Now, pay up my dear fellow.

As sure as that mug standing there.

I said nowt about no glass of brandy.

What mug?

Alright, coachman.

Thank you, sir.

Hey, that will cost you a
pretty penny, Master Branwell.

You alright? Nobody hurt, I trust?

The horse is shied, that's all. Some
fool threw a mug through the window.

It is I sir, to whom you
happen to be referring.

Thank you. I didn't ask which fool.

I should like a room for the night.
─ Aye, sir. Upstairs, sir.

Thank you.

Well, perish my eyes.
It is the new Curate.

That's right.

Do you hear that, my lads?
Your new Curate.

Welcome to Haworth.

My name is Arthur Nicholls.

You have the honour, sir of addressing
your Vicar's son. Branwell Brontë.

Oh.

And now, what shall it be?
─ For me? A bed.

And you shall have it my dear fellow.
Come along to the Vicarage.

No thank you.

I think I had better present myself to
your father in the morning. ─ Oh.

As you please.

Perhaps I may go as far
as the door with you?

You know .. my father detests Curates.

My sisters are man-haters.

And I drink.

So you shall be very
happy here, Mr Nicholls.

Can't you sleep, Charlotte?
─ I've had such terrible dreams, Emily.

Because I wouldn't say
goodnight to you, I expect.

Oh, Charlotte.
─ Forgive me.

Oh, Emily.

You and I must never drift apart.
That is so important.

Yes, Charlotte.

People will always quarrel over Branwell.

And Branwell will always like it.

It would be so dreadful if we
were happy and he wasn't.

That's why I want him to go, Emily.

I realize in London, he'd be with
all the temptations but I thought ..

Well, let him .. how else
can he become a man?

I believe you've shared
my thought, Emily.

Oh I do, Charlotte, but don't you see?

London is not the dream
city of his imagination.

His disillusion would be
unbearable to witness.

If you to spare him disillusion, it is
you who will destroy Branwell, not I.

No. Neither of us will destroy him. He ..

He shall go, Charlotte.

Oh thank you, Emily.

I knew you'd see reason.

Now I'm not so unkind ..

As made in gratitude.

Blow, blow ..
─ Shush.

This is my home.

It seems your family has retired.

Oh yes.

They are very retiring here.

What's the use of a doorknob
when I can't use it?

Ah .. the faithful Emily.

Come in my dear friend, come in.

I think in his present condition he ..
─ Take care of your own condition.

That's right.

Things are difficult enough, Branwell.

Without you bringing your
drunken friends home with you.

Come on.

So Charlotte and Anne have decided
to make the supreme sacrifice.

Very touching.

But unfortunately quite wasted.

It is something that
time alone will tell, Branwell.

Not at all.

I shall anticipate time by informing
you that I am not going to London.

I'm much too ill.

I think in fact I'm going to die.

Now listen to me, Branwell.

In half an hour you'll be at breakfast,
washed and in good order.

You will thank your sisters
for their generous gesture.

You will inform your doting father that
you have confidence in the future.

You will in fact, play the great
hero on the eve of battle.

A role well within
your range, I imagine.

Emily.

Have you no faith in me at all.

At least, I shall never cease
to love you, Branwell.

Goodbye, Papa.
─ Goodbye my dear. Now Remember ..

If everything isn't to your liking,
pack up and come home.

Say goodbye to your sister and be off.

We haven't lost our beloved Emily yet.
She's coming with us as far as the moor.

Well, auntie.

I'll be back before long as the Royal
Portrait painter or the Poet Laureate.

Take your choice.

You'll be back as a corpse if you don't
wear my mufflers in those London fogs.

God be with you, you bad lad.

Goodbye, father.
─ God bless you son.

You know what I expect of you.

Goodbye.
─ Goodbye, Tabby.

Goodbye, auntie. Goodbye.

Come on Keeper, come on, come on.

No long speeches.

Goodbye my dear Charlotte.

Goodbye dearest.
We'll write .. everything.

And think of us Emily, dear.
─ Goodbye dear Anne.

Goodbye, Emily.
─ Look after yourself, Branwell.

I shall expect to see
you at my first exhibition.

I'll be there Branwell.

See that the new Curate does his job.

Yes .. yes.

Alright, Keeper. I'll race you. But you
must give me a start now. Now stay.

Stay.

Now!

[ door knocks ]

Come in.

If you please sir .. Mr Nicholls.

Nicholls?
─ The new Curate, sir.

Oh yes, ask him to come in.

And tell Miss Emily I wish to
see her when she returns.

How do you do Mr Nicholls?
─ How do you do sir?

I hope I find you well.
─ Of course I'm well.

Does that surprise you?

No doubt, the Bishop acting on
information received from my daughter.

Has pictured me a helpless invalid
with one foot in the grave.

Why no, not at all.
─ Well that sir, is not the case.

And let me assure you. You are here
neither at my wish nor my request.

It was my daughter Charlotte who took
the liberty of writing to His Lordship.

I hope I shall give you no
cause to regret her action.

I hope not.

Well .. you look a strong,
healthy specimen.

Which is certainly more
than I expected. Sit down.

Now.

I understand from his Lordship,
you were educated abroad.

Well, I shall not hold that
against you .. but remember.

No fancy foreign airs here.

We have some pretty rough
customers in this parish.

Who are not to be charmed
into a state of grace.

Would you care for a pipe?

Am I being tested, sir?

I've no use for a man without a vice.

A small one preferably.

It supports his character.
─ Thank you, sir.

And I dare say the large vices
support the church, don't they?

Very good Mr Nicholls.

I am happy to find you
possessed of a sense of humour.

Ah, Emily. Did they get off alright?
─ Yes, Papa.

This is Mr Nicholls who's come to
assist me in the care of the parish.

My daughter, Emily.
─ Why, how do you do?

Good morning.

You will stay to luncheon of
course my dear Nicholls?

Yes thank you, sir.

Sorry you didn't arrive earlier.
You'd have met my son.

He left for London this morning
to make his place in the world.

I think you'd have got on with him.

Do you think Mr Nicholls would have found
much in common with Branwell, Emily?

I'm sure he would, Papa.

Would you take a glass
of wine, Mr Nicholls?

No thank you. I never
touch it before sundown.

You will be pleased to hear that the sun
sets early in these parts Mr Nicholls.

Emily.

I hope they looked after you well
at The Bull last night, Mr Nicholls.

Oh yes, thank you.

The hospitality of The Bull
left nothing to be desired.

Yes. The Bull is noted
for its hospitality.

I'm sure you felt at home there
immediately, Mr Nicholls.

Not immediately, Miss Brontë.

I was called upon to take up my duties as
a Curate rather sooner than I'd expected.

Oh, indeed?

One of your parishioners, who
had indulged rather freely.

Seemed in sore need of an
escort for his homeward journey.

I hadn't the heart to refuse him.

But it proved to be a very thankless task.

Ruffians like that should be left
to find their own way home.

You can be sure, Mr Nicholls ..

That your thoughtfulness was appreciated.

This is where Charlotte and I used
to come when we were children.

To see who could pick the most
blackberries for Tabby's pies.

Poor Charlotte.

She must be absolutely
wretched at Stone Gap.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sure I talk far too
much about my family.

No. I like to hear you talk about them.

It helps me to know you better.

That's a reward in itself.

Thank you.

Well, come along Mr Nicholls.

Between us we haven't picked enough
to make even one pie for poor old Tabby.

I'm not really lazy you know. But so far
I've seen very few blackberries to pick.

I can't understand it. Last year
was a very good season.

Why don't we sit down and
wait until next season?

Oh, you'll never last until then.
─ Last?

What I mean is .. no Curate has
ever stayed very long at Haworth.

It's too quiet and dull here, even for ..

Even for a Curate?

Well, Miss Emily.

Here is one Curate who is
asking for nothing better ..

Than to see many a season at Haworth.

Provided, of course ..
─ What?

That you promise to stay
and see them with me.

I promise.

Well, back home to Tabby.

Come on Keeper, come on boy.

Where is Emily?

She's assisting Mr Nicholls
with the Sunday School class.

Uhuh.

May I ask the significance of
that grunt, Miss Branwell?

Emily is full of good works
these days. Is she not?

You've never brought me this way before.

I never bring anyone this way.

Not even your brother and sisters?

Oh no .. they don't like this
part of the moor at all.

They think it is ugly.

It is a rather lonely place
here I suppose but ..

I don't mind that.

Why should you? You belong here.

You don't think it is ugly,
do you, Mr Nicholls?

There could never be anything
ugly about your world, Miss Emily.

But I do feel somewhat of a trespasser.

Oh, no you're not. That's
why I brought you here.

Knowing you is a rare privilege.

Thank you, Mr Nicholls.

That's what I wanted to show you.

Not quite what dreams
are made of, is it.

But it's been in mine ever
since I can remember.

A strange, awesome-looking place.

It's the place I write about.

And even though it is
grey and storm-swept.

And made for strange,
unyielding people.

The lovely things are all the lovelier.

Who lives there?

Ghosts.

You don't really believe
in ghosts, do you?

Oh yes. I've both seen and heard them.

They are in my dreams sometimes.

It seems that I stand
here, just at this spot.

Watching that house in
the silence of the night.

And then, suddenly I ..

I hear a sound that terrifies me.

The beating of the horse's hooves
coming nearer and nearer.

And I turn and ..

And here comes a great,
black horse and a dark rider.

And he thunders down on me.

I cannot move.

What does he look like?

I've never seen his face.

For a minute, you had me
believing your strange fancies.

There, Mr Nicholls you see.

When I'm with you, my dreadful nightmare
turns out to be one of our moor horses.

Well, it's getting late.
Shall we be on our way?

Come on, then.

What's the name of that place?
─ I call it "Wuthering Heights".

How happy you look, Emily.

I think you must have
anticipated my homecoming.

Well, is there no greeting
for the prodigal?

Branwell .. what brings you home?

It seems that London has
treated Branwell shamefully.

Yes, Emily.

You might have acquainted yourself
more with the ways of that loveless city.

Before you threw me
into its chill embrace.

It is a city of Philistines.
No success without influence.

No admission without patronage.

No patronage without toadying.

You wanted this to happen, Emily.
You and Charlotte and Anne.

One more rival out of the way.
It leaves a clearer field, doesn't it.

Soon you'll find that three is a crowd.
Then you'll cut each other's throats.

I don't believe what I'm saying.

Forgive me.

What shall I do with him, Emily?

What shall I do?

It's no use looking to Emily.

Her only concern is
with Miss Emily Brontë.

Thank God Charlotte will be home in
a few days. She'll think of something.

She always does.

If there is a better ironed petticoat
at Thornton Hall tonight ..

Oh, it's really beautiful, Anne.

Do you think I might wear
it instead of my dress, Aunt?

A high time to jest on such matters.

Oh, on our first night at home it is
permissible to jest about anything.

What have you got in that
mysterious box, Emily?

Flowers for the fair, my dear.

For Charlotte .. for Anne.
And for Emily.

Oh, Emily. You think of everything.
You've made them beautifully.

This is my first happy day for months.

I shall record the fact
instantly in my diary.

How many copybooks
did you fill at Stone Gap?

Six at least.

But it would take a good dozen to
properly describe that horrid household.

Anne only managed to fill three.

That is only because my
penmanship is smaller.

I was every bit as unhappy
as Charlotte. I assure you.

I think it's very shocking of you both
to pry into the affairs of a family.

It's wicked enough to tackle
about your employers.

But to record their shortcomings
is the height of indecency.

Prying into the lives of others
is the art of a novelist, Aunt.

Well, heaven be praised,
you are not novelists.

No. We are not novelists .. yet.

"The night is darkening round me."

"The wild winds coldly blow."
─ Give me that, Charlotte!

"But the pirates then found
me and I cannot, cannot go."

Charlotte!

There is no need to get excited, Emily.
I think it is a very beautiful poem.

I don't care what you think of it.

But please keep your
fingers away from my work.

I'm very sorry, Emily.

But Charlotte has such
a lovely plan, Emily.

She thought we might all put our poems
in one package and send them to London.

"Poems by three sisters."

Think what a stir it would
cause if they were published.

I would as soon think of publishing
my poems as .. selling Keeper.

Come, come girls, hurry.
You are the strangest creatures.

You have finally secured an
invitation to Thornton House.

And now you talk of nothing but poetry.
You'll never get husbands that way.

Your necklace, Emily.

Charlotte .. remember you'll
be among the fox-hunting set.

No talk of poetry, please.

And .. I hear that Dr Seaton's
son has turned over a new leaf.

And he need no longer be avoided.
Quite the contrary, in fact.

If anyone should ask you to dance
Emily, don't try to look pleased.

Now come along, girls, hurry.
And enjoy yourselves.

Goodbye, Aunt.
─ Goodbye, Aunt.

Good evening Mr Nicholls.
What a pleasant surprise.

Good evening.
─ Where is Branwell?

Your brother wishes me to tell you
that he will meet you in the village.

He's asked me to escort you there.

Well, that is very kind
of you, Mr Nicholls.

May I introduce you to my sisters, Anne?

How do you do?
─ How do you do?

And Charlotte.
─ How do you do?

How do you do?

Are we waiting for anything, Mr Nicholls?

No, I beg your pardon.

Are we not to meet Branwell at the Inn?

I thought you might prefer
to wait at a little distance.

We have learned not to be
over-sensitive, Mr Nicholls.

So, if we are to meet our brother
at the Inn, let us stop at the Inn.

I'll fetch him.

Hello!

Here I am, right on time, you see.

Oh such finery, such elegance.

Branwell, get in. We're late.

Give me the reins, Nicholls.
We'll be there in no time at all.

I think I will drive, Mr Brontë.

Very well.

Well, it we're to have
a priest as pilot ..

Why not a painter as postilion?

Get off you fool!

I think that's what the
horse is trying to say.

There.

There.

There.

I thought we would reach Thornton
House rather earlier than expected.

Oh, you were wonderful, Mr Nicholls.

Thank you, Mr Nicholls. Now will you
turn around and go back to the village.

For what, Miss Brontë?
─ For Branwell. He may be hurt.

A few bruises on that wild
head won't come amiss.

Be good enough to do
as I say, Mr Nicholls.

I'm afraid I must decline, Miss Brontë.

Your brother is in no fit condition
to squire you to Thornton House.

I order you to return instantly!

At this very moment, Branwell
may be lying dead in the gutter.

At this very moment, I don't care.

We shall want the carriage at 11:30.

As I shall be present at the ball,
it can be arranged quite easily.

Are we to have you as a
chaperone this evening?

I'm afraid so.
─ Good heavens.

Miss Brontë, I believe.
─ Good evening, Lady Thornton.

Home for the holidays?
─ No, I haven't been away.

Good evening, Mr Nicholls.
─ How do you do.

May I have the pleasure
of a dance, Miss Brontë?

I'm sorry, Mr Nicholls.
My program is full.

May I have the pleasure of
the next waltz, Miss Anne?

Why yes, Mr Nicholls.

Are you going to dance with
me tonight, Miss Emily?

As often as you like, Mr Nicholls.

Well, everyone seems to
be enjoying themselves.

Those unhealthy girls from the Vicarage
haven't sat out a single dance.

I only asked them to alleviate
the bareness of the walls.

Why do you call them unhealthy?

They like poetry. They go for long walks.

And the eldest one collects
brown packing-paper, as a hobby.

That one looks as though she may collect
a husband before the evening is out.

So, you see I've turned
over an entirely new leaf.

Oh, I know Mr Seaton. My Aunt says
you are no longer to be avoided.

Quite the contrary in fact.

Really, Miss Anne.
You do say the oddest things.

Don't be angry with
Charlotte, Mr Nicholls.

She has a sharp tongue, but she
doesn't mean what she says.

You'll find that out when
you get to know her better.

The whole incident is already forgotten.

Have you killed many foxes
lately, Sir John? ─ What?

Are you glad to be home
again, Miss Brontë?

I'm not sure.

Mr Nicholls, I find after all that I
am disengaged for the next dance.

You have my sympathy, Miss Brontë.

I should like to have the next
dance with you, Mr Nicholls.

With pleasure, Miss Brontë.

Do not imagine that my singular request
is prompted by a desire to dance with you.

In that case, we had better find
somewhere where we can talk.

Where shall we sit?

Mr Nicholls. I have noticed, and I think
many people here must have noticed.

That you have paid very particular
attention to my sister, Emily.

In your absence Miss Brontë, your sister
Emily and I have become good friends.

I value that friendship, and I have
every intention of preserving it.

And I have every intention
of protecting my sister ..

From any humiliation to which her
generous nature might lead her.

It is useless to prolong
this conversation.

Shall we return?

What I have to say will not take long.
I have a plan for Emily.

A dream very dear to both our hearts.

Any obstacle which stands in the way of
fulfilment I will remove without scruple.

Do I make myself clear?

May I ask the nature of your plan?

When I have saved sufficient
money from my present duties.

I am going to take Emily to Brussels.

There are Pensions there ..

That offer an excellent education in
exchange for the teaching of English.

An admirable plan, Miss Brontë.
Most practical.

It surprises me that anything of such a
prosaic nature should haunt your dreams.

Is it prosaic to want
to escape from this ..

This rut in which we've
spent all our lives?

Is it ignoble to yearn
for a bigger world?

A world rich in material for the
books we shall one day write?

Miss Emily gives me the impression of
being happy in her "rut", as you call it.

And you?
─ And I?

You I fear, will take your rut with you.

They are playing the music for
the next dance. Shall we go in?

With pleasure.

I hope it is clear, Mr Nicholls that you
will dance no more with Emily now.

On the contrary .. I'm going
to ask her for the next dance.

Very well .. you came to
the Vicarage at my request.

And tomorrow you shall leave at it.

There are ways of dealing with ladies of
your perverse temperament, Miss Brontë.

It is fortunate for you that
I am not a woman beater.

Charlotte .. Charlotte.
─ What is it?

Charlotte, please come.

Well, Sir John.

Are you still pursuing the
dangerous sport of foxhunting?

Really, sir.
Your humour is out of place.

Oh, Sir John, don't
take me so seriously.

John!

Lady Thornton! Haven't seen you
at The Bull lately. ─ Bull?

Young man, I think you'd better leave.

Lady Thornton, if you come along and
show me where you've hidden the drinks.

I might save the
supper dance just for you.

Mr Brontë, there will be neither dancing
nor drinking for you here tonight.

Come on, Branwell. Excuse me.

Sorry old fellow, I'm ..
─ Going home.

Before I've had a drink?
─ They're serving drinks on the terrace.

Well, why didn't you say so?

Goodbye, Lady Thornton. I'll be back.

Good evening Lady Thornton.
It was very pleasant.

Good evening, Lady Thornton.

There's not a drink in
sight as far as I can see.

Never mind about that, now.
─ But I do mind.

Come on, Branwell. You've
had enough for one night.

Stop mollycoddling me!
─ Be reasonable. Pull yourself together.

Let me go, you!

If I were a man, you would have
to answer for this, Mr Nicholls.

A change of sex could hardly make you
more unjust than you are at this moment.

Please, let's go home.

The whole village is talking about it.

I cannot allow my Curates to be
involved in scandals of this sort.

I'm afraid you'll have to go, Nichols.

Very well, sir.

Just a moment, Mr Nicholls.

Father.

I claim full responsibility for the
lamentable happenings of last evening.

Mr Nicholls action was prompted by his
desire to spare my sisters more disgrace.

Indeed, he took the only course
possible for a gentleman.

I did not employ Mr Nicholls
as a gentleman.

And as for you, sir. I should prefer
not see your face for a very long time.

Such talk cannot hurt me, father.

I am already too numbed
by the great blows of destiny.

The toe of my boot
should be your destiny.

Nicholls .. you may stay.

But in the future,
keep your fists to yourself.

He should have cracked your skull.

I thank you for your honesty.
─ It was nothing.

Can you lend me a shilling?
─ No.

No.

One can hardly expect a clergyman
to practice the charity he preaches.

You are not nearly as bad as you imagine.

I do not imagine myself to be bad at all.

I am much misjudged by my sisters.

Who I have no doubt have already
poisoned your mind against me.

Ungrateful wretches.

What have you ever done
to earn their gratitude?

If I had any money, I should
do a great deal. ─ What?

Anything that would take them and their
tedious enthusiasms out of this house.

You know, Branwell. I've never
seen any of your pictures.

[ door knocks ]

Yes?

Why, Miss Emily.

Good afternoon, Mr Nicholls.
─ Please come in. ─ Thank you.

Tabby just baked this cake.

She thought you'd like to
take it to that poor family ..

On Leyton Street
when you visit them.

That was very thoughtful of Tabby.
And very kind of you to bring it.

Please sit down.

We haven't seen much of you over
these past few days, Mr Nicholls.

I imagine my presence at the Vicarage
will occasion nothing but embarrassment.

You must not let yourself
be intimidated by Charlotte.

In any case, she's so excited by
this morning's good news that ..

Our misfortunes at Thornton
House are all but forgotten.

Branwell, has sold his
picture .. "The Castaway".

Oh .. please offer him my
warmest congratulations.

He has most generously offered to
send Charlotte and me to Brussels.

We are to complete our education
there at the "Pension Heger".

That is splendid of Branwell.
I'm very pleased.

I realize how much this must
mean to you and Miss Brontë.

Charlotte is delighted.

And you are not?

But Miss Emily, I thought it
was your aim, your dream.

Dreams that come true, are no
longer dreams, Mr Nicholls.

But think, Miss Emily ..

I can only think that even
now it is not too late.

Anne could go in my place.

Tell me I need not go, Mr Nicholls.

I'm afraid I can't tell
you that, Miss Emily.

And it will give me intense pleasure to
acquaint that insufferable Mr Nicholls ..

With Branwell's magnificent gesture.

I like Mr Nicholls. I think he's
a gentleman of great integrity.

He is not a gentleman at all.

Let us get on with Emily's
things .. dear Emily.

What a wonderful experience
this will be for her.

[ French language ]

Perfect. Monsieur Heger
will be delighted.

Delight is an emotion
unknown to Monsieur Heger.

You are quite wrong.

Possibly, Charlotte.
─ Why don't you like Monsieur Heger?

Too much head .. too little heart.

If you were married to Madame Heger ..
─ Speak a little louder, Charlotte.

I do not think Giselle could quite
hear what you were saying.

That was rude, Emily.

I cannot endure the superior airs
affected by the French girls here.

Anyone would think they had won Waterloo.

Ah, Mademoiselle Charlotte.

Yes, Monsieur Heger?
─ I have read your notebook. Every word.

Thank you, Monsieur.

I appreciate the honour of
letting me into your mind.

It is a most beautiful world, and you
have a real talent for expressing it.

That is a great compliment from a critic
of your standards if you really mean it.

But I do .. you have made a
brilliant and original discovery.

I, a discovery?
And what is that Monsieur?

That "woman" is actually the lover.

And not merely the one who is loved.

As writers have tried to
prove for thousands of years.

But women have always known
that to be so, Monsieur.

Of course, and men have always
tried to conceal it from them.

The extraordinary thing is.

That it should first be
revealed by an English girl.

Now, to get back to your
notebook. I also noticed ..

Charlotte.

Must you parade your popularity with
Mr Heger in front of these awful girls?

You know how it infuriates me.

Why should I be secretive about
a friendship I value very highly?

Now Mademoiselle Blanche,
what is your complaint?

Well, Madame Heger.

Because those English girls are
permitted to give a few lessons ..

They seem to have forgotten that
they are still only pupils here.

Mademoiselle Charlotte
is a dangerous one.

Always running to Monsieur Heger
with her little "suggestions".

Trying to impress him
with her own efficiency.

I think you have formed an inaccurate
estimate of Mlle. Charlotte's character.

I may be wrong, of course.

Perhaps Mademoiselle Charlotte's
pursuit of Monsieur Heger.

Is prompted by her desire
to improve her French.

Mademoiselle Charlotte is a
pupil of unusual brilliance.

We have great hopes for her future.

Yes, she certainly is a
young lady to be watched.

She is very young. Sometimes a
little headstrong, a little impetuous.

But her intentions are
I am sure, excellent.

I don't anticipate any trouble
from Mademoiselle Charlotte.

You may go, Mademoiselle Blanche.
─ Oui. C'est tres bien, Madame.

Asseyez vous, mes enfants.

Good afternoon, Miss Charlotte.

The lesson goes well, yes?

Yes thank you, Madame Heger.
They are reciting some verse now.

Ah .. some of your own, perhaps?

What makes you think
I write verse, Madame?

A little bird told me.

Good day, Mademoiselle.

Recommencé Mathilde.

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be."

"For loan oft loses
both itself and friend."

"And borrowing dulls
the edge of husbandry."

"This above all.
To thine own self be true."

"And it must follow,
as the night the day"

Asseyez vous, Mademoiselles.

What are you doing this
afternoon, Miss Emily?

This is a musical-accomplishment
class, Monsieur Heger.

And what has been accomplished?
─ Well ..

That is perhaps, something
I should judge for myself.

Now, Marie. Will you be kind
enough to play for me?

No, Marie. You must show
a little more reluctance.

I am very sorry Monsieur Heger, but
I have forgotten to bring my music.

Surely, there is something
you can play by ear?

Well, there is one little piece.

She was right.

She has forgotten her music.

Now, Marie. You can do better than that.

Play the Chopin Prelude in A-Major.
You know that very well.

Oh, charming.
One of my favourite pieces.

Please continue, Marie.

She cannot continue what she has
already finished, Monsieur Heger.

Of course.

Of course. What was I thinking about.

[ French language ]

Miss Emily.

It seems that I grow
absent-minded in my old age.

That will never do, will it.

No Monsieur Heger,
I don't think it will.

Are you coming out, Emily?

Ah, Miss Charlotte.

There is one thing I must say to you.

It is natural enough that you should take
an interest in your sister's teachings.

But in future I would prefer if you would
confine your attention to your own class.

My attention does not always
follow my eyes, Monsieur Heger.

And I am well aware of my duties.

Oh, you mustn't take me so
seriously, Miss Charlotte.

She has not forgiven me for seeing more
in her writing than she want to be there.

That is not true, Monsieur Heger.
But since you have raised the point.

Why should it be so surprising that a
writer should know something of life?

Do not misunderstand me, Miss Charlotte.
My little laugh was a kind one.

I was merely curious in view
of your quiet background.

As to where you might have observed
these mature and worldly passions.

Which you write of so brilliantly.

Naturally, she makes them up.

And I think that an even
greater tribute to her talent.

Allow me to speak for myself, Emily.

Monsieur Heger, you can't possibly
know what my past life has been.

As a matter of fact, my experiences
in the world you mention ..

Have been quite revealing.
─ Charlotte!

Oh, there is a letter for you
from England, Miss Charlotte.

Thank you, Madame.
─ Run along.

She'll have success, that Charlotte.

Certainly, she works hard enough.

So, father's eyes are troubling
him, Aunt has a cold ..

Branwell behaves disgracefully
and Keeper is losing his hair.

You know, Emily, in the three
months we've been here ..

I don't believe Anne has sent
us any good news once.

Charlotte .. will you please
tell me something?

What caused you to act that extraordinary
little scene for Monsieur Heger?

Act?
─ Yes.

Hinting of non-existent romances.

And presenting yourself as a rather
disillusioned woman of the world.

There are some things, Emily, which
I thought it better not to tell you.

But now perhaps, you might as well know.

I did have one rather, well .. unpleasant
experience while I was at Stone Gap.

And only my ability to cope with such
things, saved me from having another one.

Much nearer home.
─ What do you mean, Charlotte?

I haven't mentioned this to
you before, Emily, because ..

Well, because I was too ashamed.
But you might as well know now.

On the evening of the
Thornton House ball.

That insufferable Mr Nicholls
tried to kiss me.

In fact, he did kiss me.

Mr Nicholls?
─ Yes.

That was hardly the action
of a gentleman, was it?

There is no need to look startled.
It all happened a long time ago.

And I can assure you I was
quite equal to the situation.

Now let us see what Anne has to say
in this important looking postscript.

Emily! They are going to
publish two of our poems.

In "The Cornhill" magazine.

Thackeray has read them and asks:
"Who are these brilliant brothers"?

Mr Nicholls does you
the honour of loving you.

Why do you always speak
so slightingly of him?

The honour of loving me?
You must be mad.

He'd probably been overindulging
himself with the elderberry wine.

Oh Emily .. it has begun.

It's started to come true.

I must go and tell
Monsieur Heger at once.

Monsieur Heger was
delighted about our poems.

He's promised to take us to the
exhibition. Won't that be wonderful?

What is the matter with you, Emily?

Monsieur Heger said ..
─ Charlotte, my dear. Do you mind?

I believe I've heard enough of
Monsieur Heger for one day.

Why are you so unfair to him?

I've never known a man more gentle
and considerate in every way.

I can quite appreciate his
gift of charm, Charlotte.

But I want you to be happy, that's all.

Let us forget the subject.

Of course, you write
like an angel, Emily.

But I tell you, love is not the tormented
thing you are making it in your book.

And you know, I find
your people very strange.

Somehow, they do not
seem very real to me.

When are you going to
finish your book, Charlotte?

I don't know.
I don't want to write now.

I'm much too busy living.

Or is it dreaming?

Well .. whatever it is.

It suits me admirably.

There are those whom it may
not suit so admirably, Charlotte.

Oh!

Whatever is the matter, Emily?

The rider on the moor.

I saw him.

Oh do go to sleep, dear.

I saw his face.

There is so little time.

Wonderful.

Oh no, my dear Carlotta.
It was not wonderful at all.

It was the China duck
at which I was aiming.

Then I'm glad you missed because I
would rather have the clock. Thank you.

Oh, I wish Emily were
here to enjoy all this.

Why did she have to have a
headache tonight of all nights?

I do not think she has a headache.

She is just very unhappy, poor child.
─ Whatever makes you think that?

You must take good care
of your sister, Carlotta.

You must guard her as if she
were your own conscience.

For that is exactly what she is.

I have a perfectly good conscience
of my own, thank you.

Oh, no you haven't.

But don't look so distressed, my dear.

You are probably a great deal
more attractive without one.

I wish you'd treat me
as a grown-up person.

Ah, that would be a very
dangerous thing to do.

Oh, the "Tunnel Of Mystery".

Would you care to try this
experience, Carlotta?

I would like it very much.

Oh, then you are very brave.

I wonder why it is called
the Tunnel Of Mystery?

That is what we are going to discover.

Well?

Now the mystery of
the tunnel is explained.

Monsieur Heger.

I shouldn't have.

I thought you wished to be
treated as a grown-up person.

Oh, but surely, you must realize
that it was wrong. I mean ..

You are married.
─ Yes, I am married.

But that is a detail which has escaped
your attention until a few moments ago.

Monsieur Heger.
─ Carlotta, you can't have it both ways.

You are a dreadful, though
charming, little hypocrite.

And if I were to apologize,
I would be one too.

In that case, I think we
had better go home.

If that is your wish my dear.

I am sorry if I have
offended you, Carlotta.

Nevertheless, I shall remember
this evening with much happiness.

I shall remember it forever.

Oh Monsieur Heger, I know I've
been very young and foolish.

But I could bear that you
should regard me lightly.

But I do not.

Knowing you has been the
happiest experience of my life.

Carlotta.

You do care for me a little, don't you?

You are so very sweet, Carlotta.

How could I do otherwise?

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Oh Emily, I've had such
a wonderful evening.

Whatever are you doing?

I've had a letter from Anne.

Branwell is terribly ill. We'll have
to go home at once, Charlotte.

Go home?
─ Yes.

Did Anne say so?

No, but I can tell from the tone of her
letter that that is what she meant.

Branwell is always being ill,
and he always recovers.

We should look very foolish if we rushed
home and found him perfectly well.

Branwell, to whom we owe our
education here .. is probably dying.

Now, get your trunk packed.

I shall do nothing of the sort.

You never liked this place, Emily. And
you're probably only too glad to leave.

But I have no intention of
giving up my education here.

The sooner you stop the form of education
in which you are indulging at this moment.

The better it will be for everyone.
─ I don't know what you are talking about.

But I refuse to sacrifice my career
for any hysterical whim of yours.

I'm going to ask Monsieur Heger.

What can I do for you, Miss Charlotte?

My brother is ill.
─ Oh .. that is sad.

Naturally you feel you
must return to England.

Emily thinks so .. I don't know.

I wanted to ask Monsieur Heger's advice.

I think that Monsieur Heger would
tell you that in matters like this.

One must ask the advice
of one's conscience.

In your case, I am sure it
would be a most reliable test.

You cannot wait to get
rid of me, can you?

You are a clever pupil and
a very satisfactory teacher.

Why should I want to get rid of you?

Because I love your husband.

All our girls love Monsieur Heger.

He has quite a way with him.

Is something the matter, Miss Charlotte?

Monsieur Heger, I told her. I had to.

You told her what, Miss Charlotte?
─ I told her of our love.

Mademoiselle Charlotte is upset.
She's had bad news from England.

Her brother is ill. So she and
her sister must go home.

I'm sure Emily over-exaggerates
the seriousness of the situation.

I don't think it will be necessary.
─ Miss Charlotte.

I have a great faith in your courage.

I shall not presume to advise you.
I think you know what you must do.

Monsieur Heger.

You won't send me away like this. I ..
─ I'm not sending you, Miss Charlotte.

It only seems wise that you go.

Now my dear, it is long
past your bedtime.

Goodnight, Miss Charlotte.

Now really, my dear ..

I've been wrong about almost
everything that really mattered.

I may even have been wrong
about poor Mr Nicholls.

Perhaps you were right.
Perhaps he did love me.

What do you think, Emily?

I think, Charlotte .. that
you've had a severe shock.

I also think.

That you will recover with a rapidity
that may astonish even yourself.

Look .. there's England.

"I was only going to say that .."

"Heaven did not seem to be my home."

"And I broke my heart with
weeping, to come back to earth."

"But the angels were so angry, they flung
me out into the middle of the heath."

"On top of Wuthering Heights."

"Where I woke, sobbing for joy."

That's as far as I've got.

Yes, it's all there, Emily.
All that need be told.

Perhaps a little more besides.

That's the kind of book I
should like to have written.

Oh, you could have written a
better book than this, Branwell.

You still could.

There is no need for that sort
of eyewash between us, Emily.

Of course, one thing is as clear
as daylight about the two books.

You are both in live with the same man.

Now don't get excited, my dear.

I don't expect that anyone but your
discerning brother will ever notice it.

Charlotte certainly won't.

She never sees an inch
beyond her aristocratic nose.

You are not attempting any
passionate denials, I notice.

I've never been able to
deceive you, Branwell.

You are giving it too
much thought, my dear.

What are you talking about?
─ That pretty view.

You haven't been looking
at all well lately.

You're imagining things, Branwell.

All the same, I should lose no time in
finishing that masterpiece of yours.

Try and get some sleep, Branwell.

Will there be noting
else today, Miss Brontë?

Let me see.

We have some very
nice Brussels sprouts ma'am.

Sprouts?
─ Yes. Only tuppence a pound.

Yes, I think I will have ..

No, thank you, Mr Tripp.

Nothing more today.
─ Very well, Miss Brontë.

Why, Mr Nicholls.

What a pleasant surprise.

It's a small world, isn't it.

I was on my way to the Vicarage to
return these chapters of your book.

Oh, then you may walk back with me.

And on the way back you can tell me
your truthful opinion of Jane Eyre.

How do you do, Mrs Hart.
─ How do you do, Miss Brontë.

I'm sorry you cannot stay for tea.

I'm sorry too, Miss Brontë.

Do you think you could spare the time to
see Branwell for a minute before you go?

Do you think that Branwell
would care to see me?

Of course.
─ Very well then.

Mr Nicholls.

Ever since my return I've done my best to
atone for my previous injustice to you.

You have been kindness itself.
─ Then what is it?

Whenever possible, you avoid me.

And when you cannot
avoid me you laugh at me.

Miss Brontë.

May I say that .. I see
you for what you are.

And what you are pleases me.

And if I attempt to avoid
you or laugh at you.

That is my feeble defence.

But from what do you
wish to defend yourself?

From liking you too well.

Shall we go in?

I've a visitor to see you, Branwell.
─ Hello Branwell.

You are looking much better today.

Good afternoon, Miss Emily.
─ Good afternoon, Mr Nicholls.

It was good of you to come, Mr Nicholls.

But I am not ready to see a priest yet.
─ How do you feel?

Thanks to the forced confinement inflicted
on me by these charming jailers here.

I remain in very poor health, thank you.

Your charming jailers are quite as
anxious as you are for your recovery.

They too, would appreciate
a little more freedom.

The martyr's crown sits most uneasily
on that elegant brow of yours, Charlotte.

Then I surrender it, willingly .. to you.

I don't think these family exchanges can
be of amusement to Mr Nicholls, Branwell.

On the contrary.

I find Branwell's persistent attempts
to shock me most diverting.

I sometime think Nicholls,
that you regard my family ..

As a troop of players
performing for your benefit.

That shows how little you know me.

But beware lest one day you are called
on to play a part in our wretched story.

Wretched story? What nonsense, Branwell.

Oh come, Branwell.

Don't try and make a tragedy
of your little comedy of errors.

I can see no comedy in the error I
suspect you are about to commit.

Branwell!

Emily, do not try and save a situation
when there is no situation to save.

Or is there?

Well, I must be off to my parish meeting.

The next time I come to see you
Branwell, don't talk in riddles.

I'm a very simple fellow.

If you had the least idea of
what I was talking about.

I doubt if you would care
to come and see me again.

Go and get yourself some tea,
Emily. I'll stay here and tidy up.

Goodbye, Mr Nicholls.
─ Goodbye.

Emily.

Why don't you let
Mr Nicholls read your book?

My book would have little
interest for Mr Nicholls, Branwell.

Oh do let him. He has been
most kind about mine.

I do not choose to, Charlotte.

Of course, if your object is to
make Mr Nicholls leave us ..

Wasn't that your object
not so long ago, Charlotte?

The air in this room is stifling.

The air of anticipated success that you
exude would make any room seem stifling.

Why are you so ill-disposed
towards me, Branwell?

Ill-disposed?

Nonsense. You saved my life.

What?
─ Certainly.

The knowledge that my continued
existence hurts you immeasurably.

Is the only thing that
makes my life worth living.

You don't mean that, Branwell.

But whatever you may say,
or whatever you may do.

I shall never forget the great
sacrifice you made for us.

I am much too ill and too tired.

To go on playing the role of
hero, saviour or anything else.

So let me inform you that I
did not send you to Brussels.

Nicholls bought my picture on the
condition that you and Emily ..

Should be sent abroad to
complete your education.

Now that you know I've done nothing to
earn your gratitude, will you please go.

Thank you for being so
truthful with me, Branwell.

But contrary to your expectations.

I have now more reason to
be grateful to you than ever.

Of course, we shall have to
repay him. Every penny of it.

We can discuss that tomorrow.

But if any proof were
needed that he loves me.

This is it .. don't you agree?

I agreed a long time ago.

Yes you did.
You are very clever, Emily

I'm afraid you have a rather poor
impression of my emotional reactions.

After what happened in Brussels.

That schoolgirl hysteria.

But ..

This is different.

I never guessed that love
would be such a quiet thing.

Why doesn't he speak?

Can you imagine why, Emily?

Oh, Emily.

Why must you always fall asleep?

Just when the conversation
has begun to get interesting.

Now Branwell, you'll sleep
like a top after you've had this.

Nah .. milk always keeps me awake.

No, Anne. I think this poor tired
heart of mine needs a little stimulus.

A little of father's brandy
would work wonders for me.

Run downstairs and get it.
There's a good girl.

No Branwell, you know that
is strictly against orders.

Alright.

Leave me to die in peace, you murderess.

Goodnight, dear Branwell.

Sleep well.

Blast the girl.

I shall be forced to
use my own, I suppose.

There's precious little left, too.

[ door knocks ]

Yes?

I'm sorry. I thought
your father was here.

There were a couple of books
he said I might borrow.

Father has gone out with Aunt Branwell
and Anne, to the village concert.

Please take whatever
you wish, Mr Nicholls.

Thank you.

Are you unable to find what
you are looking for, Mr Nicholls?

You can't do this, Miss Emily.

You can't become a governess.
─ How did you know?

Anne told me.

I've all but finished
my book, Mr Nicholls.

When it is done, I shall naturally be
anxious to secure a position for myself.

But you are a poet.

A dreamer of great dreams.
You can't become a servant.

Oh, but I can, quite easily.

With the beautiful and extensive
education you saw fit to bestow upon me.

I imagine I could be almost anything.

Yes, Mr Nicholls.

As you must know, reticence is
not one of Branwell's strong points.

I thought what I did
would be for the best.

And from your point of view
it most assuredly was.

You gave Charlotte what she wanted.

And got rid of me at the same time.

It’s quite a tour-de-force.
─ How can you say such things?

Because I am a human being.

There can be nothing but truth
between you and me, Miss Emily.

But if the village is too
small for the three of us.

It is not you who shall go.

I have tried to stop loving you.

I really have tried, Mr Nicholls.

Emily, please ..
─ What is it, Charlotte?

Come quickly.

It's Branwell. He's not in the
house. I've looked everywhere.

Oh Charlotte.
─ He may have gone to The Bull.

What are you doing?
─ To find him. He can't have got far.

Your coat, Emily! It is pouring ..

Is something wrong, Miss Charlotte?

Branwell's gone to The Bull.
Emily's gone to bring him back.

Leave it to me. If Branwell's at The Bull,
I'll have him home in a very few minutes.

I'm coming too. Just let me
get my coat and Emily's.

If only she hadn't gone
out in that thin dress.

Branwell! Branwell!

Emily.

Branwell.

The first time I've ..

I've failed to get to The Inn.

Usually, it's the ..

Home journey that's so difficult.

Try and get up, Branwell.

I'll help you. Come on Branwell.

This is the proper finish.

Oh, please try.

For me, Branwell. Please try.

Branwell.

Branwell.

He's gone, Charlotte.

Miss Brontë. Miss Emily.

I can't make speeches.

And I don't think I need explain what
knowing you both has meant to me.

So let me just wish you the
great success you so truly merit.

Goodbye, Miss Brontë.

Goodbye, Mr Nicholls.

Goodbye, Miss Emily.
─ Goodbye.

Mr Nicholls.

Tell me why you are leaving us.

Because I am not a big enough man
to live side by side with greatness.

Nor am I so small that I can
stand by and witness its torment.

I don't understand.

One day you will, dear Charlotte.

I know nothing .. I understand nothing.

And yet I have dared to write two
hundred thousand words about life.

Rest assured, Madam. Jane Eyre
will have the whole town talking.

Of course, Jane Eyre is a better
book than Wuthering Heights.

Why look at the way it is selling.
─ But look at the people who are buying.

"She heard a voice from
somewhere cry: Jane .. Jane .. Jane."

You observe, Thackeray.

That Mr Currer Bell will have no cause
to complain when he comes to London.

Did "Vanity Fair" ever
have a display like that?

Vanity Fair didn't need it.

Remember Smith, it was I who urged you to
publish these three talented young men.

I also remember that you prophesied a
spectacular future for Wuthering Heights.

Which incidentally, turned out
the least successful of the three.

I never said Wuthering Heights
would be the most successful.

It is merely the greatest of the three.

As a publisher, that is a distinction
you won't understand, Smith.

The Press won't be in a very
receptive frame of mind.

They've been outside for
fifteen minutes at least.

The way you toady to these literary
jackals distresses me, Smith.

It seems to have escaped your attention,
that I have been waiting for half an hour.

However. I will drop in this evening
and take a look at your "discovery".

As you quite mistakenly call Mr Bell.

Thackeray .. I can tell you now
what Currer Bell looks like.

He's a tall, slim sensitive man.

With a profound understanding of women.
─ Nonsense.

The author of Jane Eyre is
unquestionably short and stout.

A middle-aged romantic.

Frustrated by fifty years in the dismal
dampness of a Yorkshire Vicarage.

May I ask how you happen to know that
Mr Bell comes from a Yorkshire Vicarage?

By glancing through your correspondence
while you kept me waiting the other day.

I had to occupy myself somehow.

Well, really ..
─ Now don't explode, Smith.

Authors get some of their best material
by a careful perusal of letters ..

Not intended for them.

My carriage, please.
─ Yes, sir.

I think you have behaved monstrously, and
if you dare say a word to the pressmen ..

Don't worry my dear Smith, I have
no intention of becoming involved ..

In a vulgar exploitation.

And now gentlemen, if you will
come with me to my office.

Could you please tell me
when I might see Mr Smith?

I've been waiting here for some time
but it seems difficult to get attention.

My dear young lady, I'm afraid
you will not get attention today.

Mr Smith, with his fellow fudgers
of the press, is lying in ambush.

Awaiting the arrival of his
next victim. One "Currer Bell".

Good heavens.

I never expected there would
be such a fuss over my ..

Well ..
─ Oh ..

So you are Currer Bell?
─ Yes.

But I must confess I was not quite
prepared for .. for this ordeal.

A most understandable point
of view, my dear young lady.

You are probably thoroughly
fatigued after your journey.

Now, if you will come with me.

Than you, but I don't think the gentlemen
of the press like to be kept waiting.

On the contrary, my dear young lady.

Such treatment is meat and
drink to their servile souls.

What you need first of all,
is a little refreshment.

Which I will undertake to provide.
─ But I do not know you, sir.

Oh yes you do. My name is "Thackeray".

Not the great Thackeray?

Aren't we being a little
personal, my dear?

I think Emily would like
the Cheshire cheese.

Why didn't your genius sister come with
you to receive the homage of London?

She's not been in very
good health lately.

But I doubt if she would have come
anyway. She detests crowds.

I thought so.
One gathers that in her book.

But I think she's every happy in
that strange, lonely world of hers.

She's never had the slightest desire to
meet anyone outside the family, you know.

Indeed.

Then, if it is not a too
impertinent a question.

How did she come to experience
so great and tragic a love?

Tragic love?

Emily is the most loving and
loveable person in the world.

But if you are implying that she's
experienced a great, romantic passion.

I can assure you that
such is not the case.

When .. did you last
read Wuthering Heights?

I'm going to make the most
terrible confession, Mr Thackeray.

I never have read it all.
─ Well, you should.

It's quite good, you know.

One could imagine you've
been doing this all your life.

I have been dreaming it all my life.

Well?

Jane Eyre seems to have stepped
into the pages of Vanity Fair.

Good morning, Thackeray.
─ Good morning, Dickens.

Charles Dickens.
And you never introduced me!

I shouldn't like you to get mixed up
with that kind of riff-raff, my dear.

Bennett.

What does it feel like to be a lion?

I depends entirely upon the keeper
and the food, Mr Thackeray.

If you continue to be so penetratingly
intelligent, you'll never be happy, child.

Do they always stare at
you like that in public?

They're staring at you, my dear.

Oh.

But throughout it all, I could not help
but think how Branwell would have laughed.

Well, as she seems to have
accomplished everything.

Yes, everything.

Except the one thing nearest her heart.

My brother Branwell always said ..

That riding a path with Thackeray
would be the height of success.

He was quite right, of course. It is.

But you're not looking at the
height of anything at the moment.

I was wondering if you would ever walk
with me on the moors of Haworth?

Ha?

Moors were intended to be
written about. Not walked on.

Are you so fearful of
not being recognised ..

That you must take your novel
out driving with you, Miss Brontë?

Oh, this is for a friend.

Mr Thackeray, how far
is it to the East End?

East End? Oh, geographically,
about four miles.

Socially, over a thousand.

You are not suggesting
we go there, are you?

Miss Brontë, I have a sincere
regard for you as an author.

And a deep affection as a friend.

But if you imagine I am going
to take you to the East End ..

A district inhabited exclusively
by thieves and cut-throats.

There your imagination
is even more fanciful ..

Than some of your purple
passages in Jane Eyre suggest.

And that is saying a good deal.

This is where your Parson friend lives?
─ Yes. This is the address.

Not a very good one, I fear.

Aren't you coming in
with me, Mr Thackeray?

No my dear. I think I'll stay
here and admire this pretty view.

Not my public.

[ door knocks ]

There is a lady to see you, sir.

This is indeed a pleasure, Miss Brontë.

I felt that ..

I could not leave London without
finding out how you were faring.

And Mr Thackeray very graciously
consented to drive me down here.

That was very kind of him.

I .. I've brought you a
first edition of my novel.

I shall treasure this copy.

I have, of course, read the novel.

It is the beautiful piece
of work I knew it would be.

So it has all turned out
exactly as you planned.

Not exactly.

You see, I thought I would be happy.

I must not keep Mr Thackeray
waiting any longer.

Mr Nicholls.

At our last meeting you said that ..

I would one day understand.

I'm afraid that day is still to dawn.

I believed ..

But then, you know what I believed.

You believe truly.

Then tell me.

I love you.

I've always loved you.

Oh, what was it?

What barrier stood
between us for so long?

I left Haworth ..

Because Miss Emily offered
me a love I could not return.

Emily.

[ Thackeray's voice ]
"How did she come to experience
so great and tragic a love?"

"When did you last read
Wuthering Heights?"

Oh .. Emily.

"It has been a wonderful experience."

"Everybody has been most kind.
Mr Thackeray, especially so."

"On Tuesday, I visited the
National Portrait Gallery."

"And saw many pictures
of uncommon beauty."

Doctor Barnes has been with Emily
a dreadfully long time, hasn't he.

Doctor Barnes is a very
thorough and painstaking man.

We should only be thankful that Emily
has at last consented to see him.

I'm not. If Emily has finally consented
to see a doctor can only mean ..

Enough of that talk, Miss.
Proceed with the letter.

"I had hoped by this time, that Anne and
Emily would have been able to join me."

"Surely, Emily is sufficiently
recovered by now to .."

I can't go on .. I really can't.

There, child.

Don't take on so.
─ I'll have no more of this.

Emily's wishes or no, I shall
write to Charlotte tonight.

Leave them in the hall for the moment.
─ Yes, Miss Brontë.

Well .. isn't anyone pleased to see me?

Charlotte!
─ Charlotte, my dear!

My dear child.

Of course we are glad to see you.

Charlotte, what brings
you home so suddenly?

We have not been
expecting you for weeks.

We thought you were
enjoying yourself in London.

London was very kind. However one
can have too much of a good thing.

Where is Emily?
─ She's upstairs.

She'll be so glad you are back.
─ Will she?

I wonder.
─ Why, Charlotte ..

Excuse me.

Mr Brontë, I wonder if I might have
a word with you and Miss Branwell.

Certainly.

Come with me to my study.

What is it?
What's happened?

Oh, Charlotte, she's grown
steadily worse since you left.

And you let me fritter away my time in
London when Emily was seriously ill?

I couldn't help it.
She forbade me to write to you.

I heard those footsteps.

In the darkness of the jungle ..

I would know they were yours, Charlotte.

Oh, Emily!

Oh, it's wonderful to see you again.

But how could you bear to the
scenes of your triumph so soon?

Don't tell me success is an illusion.

I should be horribly disappointed.

Success is everything
I hoped it might be.

But there was something missing.
─ What?

You, my darling.

I don't believe a word of it.

It's very nice to bask in that
fatal charm of yours again.

All the most interesting people I met ..

Talked incessantly of Wuthering Heights.

And Thackeray's last words to me were:

"Pay my homage to that
genius sister of yours."

Bless the old cynic.

And George Smith says that he
won't have a moment's peace.

Until he has your next
book in his printing press.

He'll have to wait a dreadfully
long time, poor man.

Nonsense, Emily.

Now that I'm back to look after you,
you'll be up and about in no time.

Did you see him, Charlotte?

Yes, Emily.

Curiosity overcame my pride.
And I went to see Nicholls.

He was as pleasant and
courteous to me, as ever.

But I found that my old feeling for him
was as dead as though it had never been.

Please don't lie to me, Charlotte.

Not tonight.

There is so little time.

You're not to say these
things, Emily. You're not to.

All our lives there has been too
much left unsaid between us.

Loving is the only thing that
really matters, Charlotte.

It's worthwhile being
hurt a bit to find that out.

The world has always
frightened me a little.

So I'm really not afraid to leave it now.

Though sometimes ..

When I hear the wind
blowing through the heather.

Or see the sun go down
beyond Wuthering Heights.

I think perhaps .. I'd like
to stay just a little longer.

You're not trying, Emily.

You can stay. You must stay.

Listen, my dear one.

Any good there is in me,
has come from you.

Any courage that I have ever
shown has been inspired by you.

You are everything that I
would wish to be myself.

A life without you ..

Would have no meaning.

When he comes back.

And he will.

You'll find the meaning, Charlotte.

And it will be a much happier
one than I could ever teach you.

Emily.

Emily.

Doctor Barnes.

I have found the meaning .. dear Emily.

Goodbye, my dear one.

T-G