All language subtitles for The.Gilded.Age.S01E03.Face.The.Music.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NOSiViD

- Give us this day
our daily bread

and forgive us
our debts,

as we forgive our debtors,
and lead us not...

- Of course, he shouldn't
really be buried

- in consecrated ground.
- Shh.

- Thank you.

Wonderful.

- For Thine is the kingdom
and the power

and the glory forever.

Amen.

- Church said
you had a telegram.

It's from Clay.

Coroner's verdict
on Patrick Morris...

suicide.

- How could he say
anything else?

They'll blame me.

- You were strong.
He was weak.

Who's to blame for that?

- Even so--
- By the way,

- I'm firing Miss Grant.
- Good.

It's about time we treated
Gladys as an adult.

But I'll replace her.

- Then why is she going?
- She's lost control of Gladys.

You know my opinion.

- George, I'm working
to achieve a position

that will alter Gladys' life
for the better.

If you want to help her,
help me.

- The editor's name is
T. Thomas Fortune.

He's asked me
to come by his office

to discuss writing
for "The New York Globe."

Peggy, how exciting!

- Why didn't you say before now?
- I didn't know before now.

I sent him my story,
but I got no answer.

And I suppose I was trying
to break some sort of mold

at "The Advocate."

But Mr. Fortune
is a trailblazer.

- So you could be a published
writer in no time at all.

And you could be a bride,

if you give Mr. Raikes
an answer.

- I still can't believe
he asked the question.

Maybe he didn't.
Maybe I was mistaken.

- Do you hope
you were mistaken?

Not exactly.

Although it still feels
rather rushed.

- What would you say to him
if your aunts didn't exist?

Good point.

Oh, let's go in.

- Why? Do you need anything?
- Not particularly.

- Then let's not.
- Please.

I just can't get over
the shops in New York.

We have nothing like them in
Doylestown, I can assure you.

- How can they have
such a choice

wherever you look?

Oh.

Aren't these heavenly?

Which do you prefer?

That one matches your eyes.

- Mrs. Chamberlain.
How do you do?

Well, as it happens,

I called on Mr. Knoedler
on my way here,

and see what I've
come away with?

- Oh.

- I think it must have been
a jewelry box.

- How perfectly lovely.
- She shouldn't be in here.

- Knoedler says
it's Grinling Gibbons,

which I doubt,
but I don't care either way.

- Mrs. Chamberlain.

Always a pleasure
to welcome you to our store.

Would you like to see?

Whether it's a Gibbons or not,

the man who made this
knew how to carve wood.

- This is Miss Scott.
She's a secretary for my aunt.

- And for you?
- No.

But my aunts don't like
me going out unaccompanied.

- Thank you, ma'am.
It's beautiful.

Now, what brings you in here?

- I need some gloves.
- So do I.

But first I want a shawl.

Do you really think
it's this one?

- Mm, yes.
- Then let me pay for it.

And we'll go together.

Oh, no, it mustn't look

as if we're
on a planned shopping trip.

- I don't--
- No, I mean it.

But I always
enjoy our meetings, Miss Brook.

Let's get out of here.

- Not long.
Just around the block.

Or--or send John.
Pumpkin likes him.

- No, no, Miss Ada.
I'll go.

- I'd take him myself, but
I have a hundred things to do,

and Miss Scott has gone out
with Miss Marian.

- Oh, that's all right,
Miss Ada.

I'd like a stroll.

Bye.

Mr. Fane.

Your office said
you were on your way here,

but I thought
I might miss you.

- Are you a member
of the club?

- Don't worry--
their entry standards

haven't sunk that low.

But I wanted to say,

I'm very sorry
about Patrick Morris,

whatever you may think.

I don't think anything...

beyond that it was a sad end
to what had been

a reasonably decent life.

- You'll say it was my fault.
- No, Mr. Russell.

We behaved badly,
and you punished us,

which was fair enough.

It was a pity that Morris
wasn't equal to the test.

- This is not a game
for weaklings.

No, indeed.

- How are things
progressing now?

- We're ready to pass
the new bill.

It will be announced next week
or the week after.

We'll send word.

- Will you make back
the money you lost?

- The share price
is too high for that,

as you know better than I.

But there's no point
in crying

when you play a game
and lose.

- I bear you no ill will,
Mr. Fane.

- That's not
what it sounded like

when the Aldermen
came to see you.

I was angry then.

I'm not angry now.

Good day.

Mr. Fane.

Would you have time to drop
by my office this afternoon?

Whoa, now.

Easy, now.
Whoa, whoa.

Steady now, girl.

Oh!

Okay.
Slow down, now.

Come on.

- But surely
you must have felt something.

He must have tugged at
his leash before he got loose.

- Well, if he did,
I didn't notice.

- Doesn't he have a brass tag
with the address on his collar?

Oh, yes.

Oh, thank the Lord.

Um, I have it here, ma'am.

- Oh. Well, I'm sure
anyone who lives on the street

will recognize him.

- But what if he's found
by an unscrupulous thief?

Someone might pay $50 for him.

- Only if they do not know
the breed.

- But what would happen
to my poor little Pumpkin,

surrounded by strangers?

- You never know--they might be
very kind to him.

Oh!

- Really, Ada, there's
no point in carrying on

- as if you lived in a tree.

- I've no doubt someone will
bring him back any minute now.

- Don't you agree, Bannister?
- I certainly hope so, ma'am.

- Oh. Oh, I shall
have to lie down.

- You survive a civil war,
yet you collapse

because a lap dog is missing?

Pull yourself together,
for heaven's sake.

You're a soldier's daughter.
Remember it.

Pumpkin.

- Poor Miss Ada,
she does so love that dog.

- Thank you, Miss Armstrong,
I feel bad enough already.

- Should we make up
a search party?

But where would you start?

- Mrs. Van Rhijn says
that everyone on this street

- knows the dog.
- I agree.

Someone will bring it back.
At least they should.

- What people should do
and what they do do

- aren't always the same.
- Quite right.

- Won't you tell me
what I've done wrong?

You've done nothing wrong.

- Well, then come out
with me again.

No.

- You are telling me
that you took Miss Gladys

to a hotel to meet a young man
in broad daylight?

- It wasn't like that.
- What was it like, Miss Grant?

- You only know this
because you've opened

- a letter addressed to me.
- You are a young girl.

And I am your mother,
and I have every right

to know who's corresponding
with you.

I'm not a girl.

I am a woman,
whether it suits you or not.

- Is this the tone
you encourage?

No.

But I don't think
Mr. Baldwin intended any harm.

They're young people.
It was quite innocent.

- By which you mean?
- Gladys is an adult.

She cannot be cooped up
here forever.

- Presumably you speak
in such a manner

because you know
you have lost your position?

Mother.

- Yes. Mrs. Russell,
I'll pack at once.

Thank you, Miss Grant.

I'll have the money for you
when you're ready to leave.

- He will help me to recover
the money I lost.

The money we lost.

- He can do it.
Of that, I'm sure.

- You mean we wouldn't
have to sell the house?

No, I don't believe so.

- Is this remorse
over the death of Patrick?

Does he think you'll put
a gun in your mouth

if you go under?

- He's sorry it happened,
Aurora.

He came to the club
to tell me so.

- But wouldn't he lose
by letting you recover?

- It's a drop
in the ocean to him.

So don't keep me in suspense.

What does he want from you?

He must want something
in return.

All right.

He would like you to bring
his wife into society.

He's tired of her
being excluded.

- She's no more excluded
than any one

of a dozen women
I can think of.

- She just isn't included.
- He's tired of it.

Well, what can I do?

You overestimate my power.

You mean you'd like me to try?

- Since you ask, I'd like
us not to be paupers.

I'd like us not to be dependent
on your father's charity.

I--

I would like us
to be ourselves again.

Very well.

If you insist.

Thank you.

- And mind what you say
about my father.

Don't be too sad.

You've been dying
to get rid of me for years.

- Mother will find
a new governess,

and she may be even worse.

- I may have been
your jailer.

I hope I have also been
your friend.

- If you hadn't stuck up
for me,

you wouldn't have lost
your job.

Look at that poor
little thing.

Do you suppose it's lost?

- Mrs. Bruce,
can you catch it, please?

What's going on?

- We found this poor
little dog in the road.

Looks familiar to me.

- Doesn't it belong to--
- I know whom it belongs to.

- Shall it take it back now?
- Go to your room.

Mrs. Bruce can manage the dog.

Miss Grant.

- I was just leaving,
Mrs. Russell.

Goodbye, Gladys.

Take it downstairs,

give it a bath
and something to eat.

Then come up
to my sitting room.

I'll write a note
for a footman to deliver.

- Wash it and feed it
and tell me when you're done.

Yes, ma'am.

Adalheid.

- What do you think they'll do
now Miss Grant is gone?

I don't know.

- I mean, will Miss Gladys
have a new governess

or a proper lady's maid?

Have you no work to do?

Excuse me?

Excuse me?

- Parker, can you hold
that lever?

I'm not Parker.

- Can you hold
that lever still?

- It's shaking.
- This one?

- Yes, just hold it--
hold it steady.

Oh.

Thank you.

That's an actual newspaper.

- And you helped
to print it,

- Miss...
- Uh, Peggy Scott.

The writer.

Are you early for our meeting,
or am I running behind?

- You're Mr. Fortune?
- I am.

Ah.

- Oh.
- Sorry.

Oh.

Uh...
It's amazing.

- This isn't even
one of the steam presses.

I've been working
these machines

since my days back at
"The Jacksonville Daily Union."

What you do is
set the type backwards,

and it gets reversed
in the press.

- Fascinating.
- So is your writing.

You fashioned a unique
and compelling narrative.

Thank you.

Fortune!

We cannot exhaust
our resources like this

without new subscriptions.

And we can't get new readers

if your editorials
continue to provoke.

Oh, hello.

- This is Peggy Scott,
a new writer.

- George Parker.
- Now, don't worry.

We'll get the subscriptions.

But not by kowtowing
to the Republican Party.

- A lot of colored people
still believe in them.

Remember,
Lincoln was a Republican.

- Which is why we must expose
their shortcomings

and demand more.

Have you ever thought
about writing

anything political,
Miss Scott?

I have.

- Don't ask her
if she's a Republican.

- Well, why should I align
myself with either party

when I don't have
the right to vote?

- I'm publishing the story
you submitted next week.

And I want you to write
something about that, too.

- About what?
- What you just said--

political affiliation
without voting rights,

200 words.

Good to meet you, Miss Scott.

- It was delivered by a footman
from across the road.

Oh, oh.

- Ada will you stop that noise?
I cannot hear myself think.

See?

- The Russells
have found Aunt Ada's dog.

- Oh.

- What's wrong with that?
- Oh, joy!

- Oh, is it true?

If they'd found the dog,

why not send a footman
to return it?

No, if you ask me,
they kidnapped it

so Mrs. Russell
could deliver it in person.

I said this would happen,

when Oscar brought
her son to tea.

She wants to force us
to receive her.

Mark my words--any minute now,
Mrs. Russell will arrive

with the dog tucked
underneath her arm.

- Why don't I go
and get him?

- No.
- Well, I don't mind.

No!

I will not have that mutt
turned into a link

between these houses.

Bannister,
you go fetch it.

Very good, ma'am.

Pumpkin is not a mutt.

- You'll know
the Russells one day.

- Hmm.
Over my dead body.

- I'm sorry
if you don't like Jack.

I think he's a nice boy.

- He's nice enough
to work with.

- Well, I don't see
much romance in your future

if you won't let
a boy hold your hand.

And I think your own mother
would agree with me.

I know she would.

- Good afternoon,
Mrs. McNeil.

- This is an honor,
Mr. Bannister,

although Mrs. Russell
was planning

to bring back the dog
herself.

- Mrs. Van Rhijn didn't want
to put her to that trouble.

- Still, it's good
of you to come

and not just send a footman.

I wanted to come.

We've spent long enough
watching this house

rise up on the avenue.

I'm curious to see
what it's like.

- Do you have time
for the short tour?

- What about the family?
- They're upstairs changing.

Then as long as it is short.

- Well, this is the kitchen,
as you can see.

Monsieur Baudin's kingdom.

- Monsieur. Je suis
heureaux de vous recontrer.

Ah. Bon jour.

Hmm.

May I?

- Uh, bien sur.
Yeah.

Uh, those are tomorrow's menus.

I write out the final list,

and Madam approves it
before she goes up to dress.

I see.

Heavens!
Chicken soup for luncheon.

That's not something
with which I'm familiar.

- Chicken soup?
- Soup at luncheon.

Or is it chilled?

No. It's hot.

- Well, well,
every day you learn something.

What's this?

- Trifle?
- Don't you like trifle either?

It's not that exactly.

We would think of it
as a nursery dish.

Still, one man's meat
is another man's poison,

as they say.

Can I see upstairs?

- I'll be out of your way
in a minute.

- There's no hurry.
Wait till they come down.

How was your meeting?

Exhilarating and, uh...

Rather unexpected.

Well?

He's publishing my story,

and he wants me
to write an article.

- Hurrah!

- The pay isn't much.
- But it's your dream.

This is wonderful news.

- May I know
this wonderful news?

You'll be thrilled.

- I haven't been thrilled
since 1865.

- A Mr. Fortune, the editor
of "The New York Globe,"

is going to publish
one of my stories--

- "Alone in the City."

What's it about?

- A young colored woman
living on the Upper East Side.

- It's about you,
in other words.

- All writers write
about themselves,

at least at the start.

But Mr. Fortune wants
my next article

to be more political.

- Just make sure
that if you do,

I never find out.

- Mr. Fortune sounds
an improvement

on Mr. Carlton
at "The Advocate."

- When will you tell
your parents?

- With Mrs. Van Rhijn's
permission,

I mean to go on Friday.

- Of course you have
my permission.

You'll make them very proud.

But only tell them
about the story.

They won't want trouble
any more than I do.

My goodness.

How splendid.

I have been transported
to Versailles.

- Are there surprises
here, too?

- No, no.
Nothing important.

Please, I'd like to hear.

Oh.

I would not lay
the fruit knife and fork.

They arrive
with the fruit plate

and the finger bowl.

The pudding spoon and fork
would not be above the place,

but here.

What is this?
It seems to have got lost.

- It's an oyster fork.
It sits on its own spoon.

Does it indeed?

Fancy that.
Hmm.

And colored glasses--
how festive.

- Do you not use
colored glasses?

No.

A-and we set them in a square,
the English way, not in a line.

I wonder they don't
find themselves

drinking their neighbor's wine.

- Oh.
- But, of course,

there's no right or wrong
about these things.

They're simply
a matter of taste.

- And Mrs. Van Rhijn's taste
is not the same

- as Mrs. Russell's.
- So it would appear.

Oh, I'm afraid
I should collect the dog

and get back.

Oh, but thank you, Mr. Church.

It is always
so very interesting

to learn how different people
manage things.

Mm.

- You'll squeeze that dog
to death.

- Oh, I just want
to cuddle him

and cuddle him
and never let him go.

- I should watch out.
He'll take off again.

- I would.
- Don't say so.

- Aurora Fane has invited you
to the Academy of Music.

You will hear
John Knowles Paine

conduct
the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

It is raising money
for your Miss Barton.

- When is it?
- Friday.

Aurora will collect you
on her way.

- That sounds fun.
Will you come?

I'd rather be put to death.

- Don't you approve
of the Academy?

- I do, and I can manage opera
as long as I can talk,

but sitting through a symphony
is beyond me.

- This has just been delivered
for Miss Marian.

Oh.

Hmm.

Is there no letter?

Do you know whom it is from?

- Yes.
- An admirer?

Not in that way.

- Marian, I cannot have
an object in the house

if I'm not allowed
to know its provenance.

- Well, I won't tell you
who sent it,

and so I will return it.

That is reasonable, surely.

- It seems the very opposite
of reasonable to me.

Marian, you would never
entertain advances

from someone whom
I might not consider suitable?

"Entertain advances"?

That sounds like a dance step
in the gavotte.

I must have your word.

- Aunt Agnes, I cannot make
vague promises

about unforeseeable
circumstances

in an unknown future.

- We don't know her at all,
of course.

- We know she's
a kind person, Agnes.

And I do not believe
she would ever do

anything self-destructive.

- "Self-destructive"?

You've been reading
those German books again.

I've warned you before,

just stick to
Louisa May Alcott.

- Have you decided
whether or not

- I'm to have a new governess?
- Not yet.

It's absurd.

Father?

- Couldn't she have
a maid instead?

She has a maid.

I mean a real lady's maid

that could accompany her
when she goes out.

- Although why that's
considered necessary

beats me.

- I hope neither
of you children

want a favor from us
anytime soon.

I had a letter
from Mrs. Fane today.

- She means to call on me.
- Oh?

I wondered if you knew why.

- Perhaps she needs your help
with a charity.

Maybe it's the business
of building a new opera house.

- She won't be
in favor of that.

She will be on the side
of the Academy.

- I'm sure she has a hundred
causes you could help with.

- I hope it's not to be
a repetition

of Mrs. Morris' visit.

Will she beg and plead
for you to be merciful?

No, that's all done with.

- Charles Fane
has come through it.

- Well, I'll see her,
I suppose.

- There was a time
when you would've run

a red carpet
to the edge of the sidewalk

if you thought
Mrs. Charles Fane

- might pay you a visit.
- I'm stronger now than I was.

Thank you, Church.
I think we're done with this.

- I saw
Oscar van Rhijn today.

He was fishing
for a dinner invitation.

You wouldn't mind,
would you?

He refused our invitations

when I was in trouble
with the aldermen.

- Then perhaps his renewed
interest is a good sign.

- Because it means
that word on the street

is that I've triumphed?

Do you think he's after Gladys?

I rather hope not,
if I'm honest.

Why?

He has a decent position
and a bit of money.

And he's clever.

- But is he just looking
for an heiress?

- What's wrong with soup
at any time?

- I'm sure I don't know,
Mr. Baudin.

And you lay the table

as you've always laid
the table.

- True, but I did not know
there were such differences

between English customs
and American.

- So what?
You're American.

Mr. and Mrs. Russell
are American.

- Yes, but does Mrs. Astor
follow the English way

or the American?

- She won't be
coming to dine.

- Still, perhaps
I should find out.

Well, all I know is,

whatever implement
she may pick up to eat with,

the food in this house
is cooked by a French chef,

and nothing can top that.

- Which brings us back
to the chicken soup.

- I saw you set off
for your walk, Mr. Watson,

but you seem a bit
down in the dumps

since you got back.

- No, no.
I think I'm just tired.

I had a nice walk,
as it happens.

- That means
the Master's gone up already.

You better get a move on.

You too, Miss Turner.

What's the matter with you?

How do you mean?

- You sound so angry
all the time.

I'm wasting my life here.

- Then leave.
Or change things.

I'll leave when I'm ready.

But I may decide
to change things.

- May I come in?
- Of course.

- And now may I know who sent
the beautiful carved box?

Mrs. Chamberlain.

- Oh, dear.
This is very bad.

- You understand
why I wouldn't tell.

- If Agnes knew,
we should none of us

have any sleep for a month.

- Also, she'd think
we were friends,

which we are not, really,
although I do like her.

- That in itself
makes me shudder.

I've told you Mrs. Chamberlain
is in a class by herself.

She is far worse
than Mrs. Russell in every way.

To spend time in her company
is to be contaminated.

- I'll take it back tomorrow.
- Do so.

And hand it in
at the door.

But now I have
another question.

Why would you not promise
Aunt Agnes

to marry someone suitable?

- Dearest Aunt Ada,
how could I...

when someone
who is suitable to me

may not be suitable to her?

But surely you intend
to marry a gentleman?

- I will marry a gentle man.
Is that enough?

- For me, maybe,
but not for Agnes.

- Did you ever come
close to marriage?

There was once someone

whom I was taken with.

But he did not meet

your grandfather's
high standards.

- The point is,
did he meet yours?

Well...

I was very young.

- Do you think you should have
married him anyway?

Do you think
you would have been happier?

- That's rather
a cruel question.

- I-I didn't mean it to be.

- You think me a weaker person
than Agnes, and maybe I am.

But even I know
that marrying beneath oneself

is no guarantee of happiness.

I am aware of that.

- And where does Mr. Raikes
stand in all this?

You know Agnes thought
he sent you the carving?

- I wish she hadn't
taken against him.

I'd hate for us
to fall out.

- Just don't plunge in
without thinking.

I will try to be your friend,
whatever comes.

But it'll be simpler
if you can find your beloved

among Mr. McAllister's 400.

And now good night.

Good night.

I thought you'd come.

And I see you've brought
the box back.

Was that
on Mrs. Van Rhijn's orders?

Not quite, but...

she said that if I wouldn't
tell her who'd given it to me,

then I couldn't keep it.

- I shall always regard it
as yours.

- Now, what can I offer you?
- Nothing, thank you.

But I'm admiring
your pictures.

- Come into the gallery.
They're better there.

This is one
of the first paintings

we bought together--

an early Corot,
of the forest at Fontainebleau.

It's lovely.

Did you inherit a collection?
Or did Mr. Chamberlain?

Oh, no.

We're what your aunt would call
"new people."

But my husband had
something better than birth.

- What was that?
- Luck.

Right from the start.

Where did he start?

- In Keweenaw County
in Michigan.

He was there
when they sank

the Cliff copper mines
in 1845.

How did you meet?

Why do you ask that?

- I don't know. I--
No reason.

- I'll ask another question.

Did you build
the collection together?

- Mr. Chamberlain was a widower
when he married me.

He and his first wife
did not fully understand

the power that money
had put into their hands.

I showed him.

- So you taught him
how to live.

- And we had
a wonderful life together.

I miss him very much.

- And your son,
does he live here?

- Oh, no, he--
he grew tired of New York.

He lives in Chicago.

I must go.

But thank you
for showing me your treasures.

- You must return,
and I'll show you more.

Besides, you will need
to visit your carving.

- But why? You and Mrs. Morris
have made it clear

that you are only interested
in my checkbook

and not very interested
in that.

Have you seen Mrs. Morris?

- Not since the death
of her husband.

- A sad business.
- Yes.

- May we have some coffee?
- Yes, ma'am.

- Mr. Russell has been
very generous to us.

Has he?

- He helped us through
a very difficult time.

- And you want to return
the favor.

If I can.

- How would you suggest
we begin?

I've thought about this.

I believe the best way
would be to invite you

to luncheon
with Mr. McAllister.

- Ward McAllister?
- That's it.

He's a sort of henchman
to Mrs. Astor.

He helps her in her work
of shaping society.

- And Mrs. Astor
takes his advice?

- I don't know that she ever
takes advice exactly,

but she allows him
to help her.

He is her amanuensis.

- I'm to lunch
with Mr. McAllister

but not with Mrs. Astor?

- I'm afraid she always wants
a list of her fellow guests

and seldom agrees to sit
at a table with strangers.

- Especially strangers like me.
- That's not true.

She does let new people in.

She has to, or they'll
forge an alternative society

and keep her
and the old crowd out.

Won't they anyway?

- Probably, but not
in her time.

How can you be sure

that Mr. McAllister
will want to meet me?

He's dying to see this house.

It's one of the only palaces
on the avenue

he's never been inside.

And...

- And?
- He loves money.

Will you tell your circle

of this labor
you've undertaken?

- I'll tell them
we're friends now.

And to that end,
I wonder if you'd join me

for a concert on Friday.

- At the Academy of Music?
- Of course.

- Well, I have said before now

that I must begin somewhere.

- We keep bumping
into Jay Gould

wherever we go
and whatever we do.

- Now he's got
the Missouri Pacific,

we can't avoid him.

I'm told he has 15%
of all the track

in the United States.

- Is it time
to approach Morgan?

- If you dine with J.P. Morgan,
you should use a long spoon.

Did you see
the news from Russia?

- The accident at Tcherny,
you mean.

- More than 150 dead--
men, women, and children.

- How terrible.
- Mm.

Then there was the crash
at Spuyten Duyvil

and, after that,
one at Little Silver.

- Well, we certainly take
safety very seriously

- in this company.
- Maybe.

But I'd like some
more insurance just in case.

- What if you got
behind a charity

that deals in disasters?

- Go on.
- Yes.

If nothing ever happens,

we'd be a benevolent force
in society.

And if there is trouble,
we'd get help at once

and offset any charge

of not caring
for our passengers.

- As it happens,
Mrs. Fane wants me to go

to a concert on Friday
in aid of the Red Cross.

- Tell me
about the Red Cross.

- Well, a woman called Barton
wants to established branches

all over America

to give help to people
caught in a disaster.

- Does she need money?
- Very much so.

So far, she's only managed
to open one branch--

at Dansville
in Upstate New York.

Then you must go.

I'd like to see you
on the board.

I'll never be on that board.

One of her main patrons
is Anne Morris.

- You are more than a match
for Anne Morris, my dear.

You'll find a way.

- She still
won't invite them here?

- Why does it matter,
when you go there freely?

- But I don't, not anymore.
They've dropped me.

- Oh.
Do you know why?

- I blame Patrick Morris.
- Poor man.

- He told me
that Russell was finished.

Everyone thought so,
and I believed them.

- So it was you
who dropped them,

not the other way around.

Now I'm on their side.

- I must get back
into that house.

- Does this have anything to do
with Miss Russell?

Well, I've made my delivery.

- I hope you didn't speak
to her.

What's this?

- Marian had to leave something
for Mrs. Chamberlain.

- But don't tell.
- Heavens.

- What was the house like?
- Very grand.

And the pictures
are simply fabulous.

One of them had
very good taste.

- She had the taste,
the looks, and the brains.

He had the money.

- Rather sharp for you,
Aunt Ada.

- We shall have to stop talking
about her when Mama comes in.

- What precisely
has she done wrong?

- She lived in sin for years
with old Chamberlain

until his long-suffering wife
finally died.

Then he brought her
to New York,

and they pretended
they'd only just met.

- I thought
she was married before?

- Hmm, she says that
to explain the boy.

- Her son?
- The son of them both.

She only says
her husband adopted him

for the look of the thing.

He is the spitting image
of Chamberlain, for a start.

- Is that why
he lives in Chicago?

- He must have got tired
of people whispering

behind their hands every time
he walked into a room.

- Aunt Ada, is this true?
- People think it's true.

What do people think is true?

- That they're opening
the East River Bridge

next year.

Hmm, and about time, too.

- What a difference
it will make

with the journey to Brooklyn.

- Why would you want
to go to Brooklyn?

- As a matter of fact,
I'm thinking

of paying someone
a surprise visit.

She may need cheering up.

- So should I
if I lived in Brooklyn.

Come in.

I shouldn't have left you
to finish up on your own.

- Never mind that.
It's all done now.

- I never knew kindness
till I came to this house.

But I still can't talk
about it.

Well, then you don't have to.

- There's a part of me
wants to tell.

That's the funny thing.

I'd like to somehow
get it out of me.

- Did your mother beat you?
- It wasn't that!

It was what she didn't do.

She knew about things.

She did nothing
to stop them.

But if it wasn't her,

then who was doing
these things?

- Oh.
Oh, my Lord.

You poor darling girl.

- Now you know
why I hate her.

- But wasn't he
the one to blame?

He was mad.

But she was evil.

She sat downstairs
and let it happen.

- Oh.

What are you--

Bertha?

- How did you get in here?
- Through the door.

- I don't understand.
- I think you do.

- That is
never going to happen.

- Really?
I believe you're lonely.

- No, I'm not.
- I believe you need a woman

who will help you
to become the finest

and the best man
that you can be.

I've already got one.

Be honest.

Haven't you ever wanted a woman
who thinks only of you?

Mrs. Russell has
many qualities,

but she has her own campaign
to wage in the world.

She has no time for yours.

And you do?

If you'll let me...

I can make a sanctuary for you,

a temple to your greatness.

My greatness?

The flaw in your argument
is that I love my wife.

I have no desire
for a mistress,

no wish for another helpmeet,

no need for any sanctuary
beyond this house.

- So what is
my punishment to be...

for falling in love with you?

Go back to your room now.

Say nothing more...

and we will never mention
the subject again.

Why?

My wife trusts you

and holds you in high regard.

She's grateful
for your guidance,

and I would not wish
to spoil that for her

because of your misjudgment.

Now please go.

I am at war with this crab.

- I think you should surrender.

You think this is bad...

You never ate
with my Uncle William.

Mm. Oh, boy.

He could make you lose
your whole appetite.

He'd take
a fork full of eggs,

then dip that same fork
into the jelly.

I was always picking little
bits of egg out of my jelly.

- Are you trying
to ruin our luncheon?

- He ruined my breakfast
for years.

What happened to him?

Oh...

they, uh...

they sold him away
before emancipation came.

God bless him.

Mmm.

I almost forgot.

I ran into Mrs. Barber
at church.

Her son Paul just graduated

from Howard University's
medical department.

You remember Paul?

- Haven't seen him
since we were children.

- Well, he's back now,
just like you.

I told her to expect
a dinner invitation.

She was quite eager
to tell Paul

- that you were home.
- But I'm not really.

- You will join us
for dinner, though?

- Mother, I don't want
to disappoint you

on your birthday.

- They got you
so busy over there,

you can't have one evening
with your family?

That is not what I said.

- She's busy.
That is better than being idle.

Busy doing what exactly?

- I've sold a story
to "The New York Globe."

- Hmm.
- That's marvelous news.

Why didn't you tell us sooner?

We could have made this
a double celebration.

- You should have tried
them first.

- I sent my work out to
"The Globe" and "The Advocate"

at the same time.

- They'll give you
more opportunities

than "The Advocate"
would have done.

- I think they will.
- But not much money.

Are you gonna quit
working at that house?

- Of course not.
I've only sold one story.

- Besides, I like it there.

We must be pretty bad
for you to choose

to work two jobs
and live like a servant,

when you can stay
in your own home

and work in the drugstore
with me.

- Father, it's
what I want to do.

- Let's not--
- I own the pharmacy,

which I planned
to pass down to you.

But, oh, no, we--

Ellen.

Let's toast Peggy's success.

She will be
a published author.

- It's a fool's errand,
if you ask me.

May I help you?

- Um, I'm here
to see Miss Scott.

They're at luncheon.

Do you have a card?

- Who is it?
- Miss Marian Brook.

What?

- Did you invite her?
- No, sir.

- Well, we can't
just leave her outside,

show her into the parlor.

- Miss Brook.
- I'm Marian Brook, Mrs. Scott.

- What are you doing here?
- I thought I'd surprise you.

You succeeded.

Miss Brook is the niece
of Mrs. Van Rhijn.

- Why have you come?
- What Mr. Scott means is--

- My daughter works
for your aunt.

Why are you here uninvited?

Arthur.

What's in the bag?

- Oh, well, I--

I wanted to bring
something useful.

But I'm not sure they will be
very useful after all.

Can't we see?

If you've brought it
all this way...

Old shoes?

I thought...

- What did you think,
Miss Brook?

That we would need
cast-off shoes?

I'm so sorry.

I--

- She must have wondered
if you knew of a charity

- that could use them.
- That's it.

I hoped you'd have an idea
of how they might do some good.

But why bring them here,

when there are so many
charities in Manhattan?

- You're right.

- Miss Ellen, can you fetch
my gloves, please?

- But we haven't had
my birthday cake.

You're welcome to join us,
Miss Brook.

You're very kind, Mrs. Scott.

Happy birthday
and many happy returns.

- Yes, Mother, many happy
returns, but we're going now.

Goodbye, Miss Ellen.

- Well, we have certainly taken
a step forward today.

Thank you for that.

Dorothy...

our responsibility
is to raise a child

with a sense
of right and wrong.

I cannot put that aside
to play Happy Families.

No.

And it's not a game we are
very well equipped for, is it?

What are you doing here?

And the shoes--
what was that?

Because we're colored,
we must be poor?

- I loaned you train fare!
- I made a stupid assumption.

- And you just showed up
at my parents' home.

- What's so wrong
about that?

My aunt lets you live
at her house.

Lets me?

- I work there.
- I know--

- No, you don't know
anything...

about me, about my life,
about my situation.

I live in a different country
from the one you know.

- Look, I'm sorry.
- Don't be sorry!

Just stop thinking
you're really my friend.

- Heavens.
What a vision.

The whole audience
will be looking at you.

You are sweet.

Is the carriage here yet?
Turner said she thought so.

It is.

- Have I seen this cloak before?
- I'm sure you have.

But I must run.
I'm terribly late as it is.

And I don't want to arrive
after they've started.

Miss Turner...

is something keeping you?

It's a very good turnout.

- People do seem to believe
in Miss Barton.

- Mr. Russell certainly
believes in her

and her Red Cross.

He'd like me
to be more involved.

That might serve our turn,

- if we play it carefully.
- Mm.

I must see to the others.

Marian, please look
after Mrs. Russell.

Don't worry about me.

I supposed you know
plenty of people here.

Not at all.

But I've read about this
so often in novels.

I envy your fan.

I wish I had one
so I could cover my face

and look fascinating.

- You look very fascinating
to me.

- Mr. Raikes.
- Hello, Miss Brook.

Hello.

- Do you know
Mrs. George Russell?

How do you do?

- And Mr.
and Mrs. Charles Fane.

Who are you here with?

- Mrs. Henry Schermerhorn.
She has the next box.

- Is this yours, Mrs. Russell?
- Oh, no, I don't have one.

- There's
a terrible waiting list.

Especially for me.

Come, Mrs. Russell.

Let me introduce you
to some of our friends.

Why are you here, really?

- My lady was in
a high window,

so I realized
I needed a long ladder.

- Be serious.
- I mean it.

I know you're aunts
don't think me suitable.

So I'm striving to improve
myself until they do.

I'm ready to do
anything you want.

But how have you managed it?

- Two years ago, I took
a new course in property law

at the University
of Pennsylvania.

Gerry Schermerhorn
was on the same one.

- Did you know he lived
in New York?

I did, but we'd lost touch.

But then one day,
I was roller-skating

at the rink
next to Central Park,

and we ran into each other,
literally.

And you're building on that?

I'm trying to.

The way these people live here
is quite amazing.

- You're enjoying
yourself, then?

- More than I could have
imagined.

But I haven't got
what I really want...

not yet.

Perhaps you're right,

and it's time
to call on us again.

Do you mean that?

- Do you want me to call?
- Well, I do.

I have a question.

What would you say to me
if your aunts didn't exist?

- You're the second person
to ask me that.

- Who was the first?
- Peggy Scott.

Then I salute her.

- But we must try
to win them over.

If we don't, then all this
will be lost to you.

You do understand?

- I hope it doesn't come
to that, I admit.

But if it does,
I don't care.

Not if I have you.

- Who has cornered
my Mr. Raikes?

- This is Miss Marian Brook,
Mrs. Van Rhijn's niece.

Mrs. Henry Schermerhorn.

- I'm delighted to meet you,
Miss Brook.

But, Mr. Raikes, I must insist
you rejoin my party.

I've promised you
to Miranda Fife,

and I never break my word.

- Of course.

Send me a message
when you want to see me.

Quite a man about town.

- And he's done it
in record time.

- Who is he?
- Thomas Raikes.

An old friend
from Pennsylvania.

- He seems very at home
in New York.

- I know.
It's quite astonishing, really.

When he first got here,
he knew nobody,

and now he's in a box
at the Academy.

- You see, Mrs. Russell?
It can be done.

Mm.

Does he have money,
your Mr. Raikes?

I don't think so.

Not what you would call money.

- Pity, when he's
enjoying himself so much.

He may find it hard
to keep up without it.

- Now for the third movement--

"A Romance of Springtime,"
how lovely.

What's the matter, Marian?

- Don't you like the sound of it?
- I like it very much.

As long as there's
a happy ending.