Original subtitles

(knocking on door)

(emotional music)

(people chattering) (emotional music)

- Hurry up!

Hurry, go.

(emotional orchestral music)

- Is that it, Ma?

- Away.

(emotional orchestral music)

(knocking on door)

Mr. Carr?

- Ma!

It's empty, Ma.

Empty.

(Riah groans)

So, what we're gonna do now, Ma?

- We're not going back,

I'll tell you that.

(wheels creaking) (man whistling)

- Where's your man?

- I've got no man.

I came as the housekeeper to Mr. Carr.

- Mrs. Arthur Carr's run off after the last one.

I see you're bedding down anyway.

- Uh-huh.

- Ah, well, get a rest tonight,

'cause there's a big Irish family coming tomorrow.

So, you're looking for a housekeeper's job?

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Is this the house?

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Go on, promise me.

I could get me head bitten off for asking.

- I'd like to tell yourself sometimes

if you could go somewhere.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- [Fanny] Show her the good washhouse, Tol.

I'll sweep two of them.

- No, Fanny, it's blackmail.

That's all it is, blackmail.

- Mr. Miller, I've told you.

I can't make the journeys no more.

Be thankful I found somebody else.

- Somebody else?

You think I'd take on a woman with three children?

- Oh, shut up.

I've heard your whines.

Now I'm sick of it.

- You're a widow?

- Yes, sir.

- [Miller] Your children, can they work?

- Yes, sir, they're hard workers, sir.

Me son, David, he's been working

in the fields for three years now,

and Bridget, she's very good at housework.

And they can read and write.

- Read and write?

- Yes, sir.

Me husband taught us.

- Indeed.

And what was your husband?

- He was a miner, sir.

- A miner?

A coal miner?

Well, Mrs. Millican, I must be plain with you.

I am a man of poor means.

Mrs. Briggs has four shillings a week and her food.

Even with lodgings,

I'm sure you wouldn't consider that sufficient

for yourself and your whole family.

- I'd be happy to accept your offer, sir.

- You would?

- Well, yes, sir.

- But it's nothing.

(dramatic orchestral music)

See Fanny.

She'll tell you what to do.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Mum.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Away, I'll show you the house.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Nice rabbit, that.

Always has rabbits on a Thursday.

Aye.

Thursdays.

Rabbit day.

So, you're settled in, then?

- Oh, hope so.

I do hope so.

- I don't just bring rabbits, mind.

I'll be bringing him milk every day

and wood once a month.

I suppose you're used to coal.

- Aye, I am, but I do okay.

- Tol?

Tol?

How long are you gonna leave me out there?

- Riah, this is Mrs. Annie.

We share a cottage up on the Gullmington estate.

You must visit us.

- When you're settled in, like.

You must have plenty to keep you busy, Riah.

- Look what the master's given us.

Never let us breed on anything, these mothers.

And now, look.

- That's beautiful. - Some people have

the look, eh?

- Fanny, you'll have to guard that.

- Well, Tol, you've got your passenger, now come on.

- Ee, I-- - Do you normally?

If I had anything that precious, you'd have it in all.

- Oh, how, Riah mine.

Get his pie crust right,

and maybe he'll stay in a good mood.

That'd be something.

(bright orchestral music)

(knocking on door)

- In.

(bright orchestral music)

Put it there.

I hope you understand I don't want

to be troubled by your children.

- I understand, sir.

You won't be troubled.

(bright orchestral music)

Hey, you two.

Come on.

(energetic music)

- [Children] Tol?

- It's Tol!

(energetic music)

- Ma!

(energetic music)

(boys calling out)

- Get that, get that!

Ah!

(energetic music)

(children chattering)

(energetic music)

- Biddy?

(dramatic music)

Biddy!

(dramatic orchestral music)

(Biddy gasps)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(dog barking)

- On your own, Riah?

I've brought you some Christmas presents for the babes.

There's a doll there for the lassie

and a horse for Davie.

- Oh, Annie.

- Well, they're from Tol, really.

He sat carving them for weeks.

Likely getting practice in for when he has his own bairns.

Did you not know he was courting?

I thought he would have told you.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(men chatting)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Once a quarter, he goes into town and gets his allowance.

I've seen him worse.

Goodnight, Riah.

(fire crackling)

- Newcastle was packed today, Riah.

The shops made me wish I was a rich man.

Or a highwayman.

- I don't think you'd make a very good highwayman, sir.

- Oh.

Perhaps not.

For your brood.

Don't take it as a breakthrough.

For yourself.

(drum sounding)

- Ladies and gentlemen...

(crowd chattering) (upbeat music)

- Ooh, that's lovely.

By the way, before I forget.

I'm just wishing you luck on your wedding.

- Wedding?

What wedding?

- Your sister gave us the impression

you was getting married.

- I'm not getting married.

- I'm sorry, I must have made a mistake.

- No, no.

You made no mistake.

If I'm thinking of getting married, I'll tell you.

(crowd chattering)

I was courting a girl years ago when me mother died,

and when Annie came back to look after the house,

and that's when we put a pin in that.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

- Seems to have turned out permanent.

- Tol, you've been so good to us.

I wish there was something I could do in return.

- No.

- Yeah.

Would you like us to teach you to read?

(Tol laughs)

- Teach me to read?

I'd like that very much.

- Hooray, we'll burn up the town.

- Big gob, it's a surprise.

(bright orchestral music)

- [Annie] Well, you seem loaded up.

Been out begging again?

- Begging?

- You begged hard enough for a job at Moor House

and you've caused naught but trouble since.

- What do you mean, trouble?

- You know fine well.

Our Tol never knows if he's coming or going

with errands for you,

but teaching him to read and write from bairns' books,

you've made the man a laughingstock.

- Miss Briston,

the only laughingstock I see is a bitter old spinster

who's terrified Tol'll go out and get a life of his own

and she might have to work for herself

like plenty better people have to.

- Oh, you're trouble all right.

I've seen your type before.

(twigs snapping)

(Riah gasps)

- I'm sorry to disturb you.

I always cut through here.

Allow me.

What have you been buying?

- I got some clothing secondhand.

- What?

Other people's castoffs?

- Gentlemens and ladies like.

All lined.

Good material.

- I overheard our friend accuse you

of teaching Tol his letters.

- [Riah] Yes, sir.

Only in the evenings, though, after work.

- [Miller] Of course.

But what about your children?

Shouldn't you be thinking about their education?

(dramatic music)

- [Riah] Stop fidgeting.

- [Johnny] It tickles.

- Ah.

- Keep still.

(knocking on door)

- [Tol] Hello, lad.

- Hey, Tol. - Hi, Tol.

- [Biddy] Hey, Tol, guess what?

- What? - Master's going to make us

go up to school.

- [Tol] What school?

There isn't a school 'round here.

- He's going to teach them in the library.

Two hours every morning.

- Aye.

On top of working all day and all.

- It's marvelous, isn't it, David?

- Marvelous.

It's unheard of.

I bet you can't wait, eh, Davey?

Can I have a word, Riah?

- Oh.

Go on.

- See you.

- I know what you're gonna say.

- Aye, well, then.

It doesn't take any leading up to, then, does it?

I just hope our Annie didn't upset you.

- Well, if she upset me, I certainly upset her.

(both laugh)

- Oh, Riah.

I wouldn't like anything to spoil what's between us.

The way I'm placed, I can't say what I want.

I think you know what's going on in me mind.

- Ma!

Ma, the master wants you.

- Come with me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Would you be able to make shirts for the boys out of these?

- Aye, but, that's...

It's silk.

Oh, no, sir.

It's much too good.

- They have a change on Sunday, don't they?

- Well, yes, but-- - Well, then,

make them Sunday shirts.

Workday material you'll find in that trunk.

These belonged to my mother.

Mostly plain, except this.

(dramatic orchestral music)

It was my mother's favorite.

She always wore it on special occasions.

- It's lovely.

- I think so.

Every other thing, you can use.

Only get rid of that dirty rubbish you bought today.

God knows who wore those last.

- I am grateful to you for all your kindness.

- Nonsense.

My thanks are long overdue.

Being able to help in this way,

I shall not now feel under such an obligation to you.

Riah.

You know, sometimes you don't look

or act much older than your daughter.

(gentle music)

(Miller lecturing on Latin)

Biddy, would you read?

(Biddy reading Latin)

Davey?

- Um, I love

my...

- Mother.

Miss Biddy.

(Biddy reads in Latin)

- I go to the city to buy bread.

- Sir, what's the use of us lot learning Latin.

- Davey, Latin is the key to the whole world of learning.

That is why we're doing Latin.

That's enough for today.

- Aye, and a good time, probably.

- Davey, stay behind.

Come here, Davey.

Would you promise me to study hard

if I put a pony in that stable?

- Ah, sir!

(Miller laughs)

(dramatic music)

- Off you go.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- [Coachman] All aboard.

- Take care of yourself.

Give my love to old Mary.

(stately orchestral music)

- That's enough, come here.

- Here they are, Bid.

- [Riah] Wash off your foot.

(gentle music)

- Beautiful.

Dutiful.

(bright orchestral music)

Riah.

I think we understand each other, don't we?

- Yes, sir.

- You're an intelligent woman.

You must know that what appears right to some

is vastly wrong to others.

- Aye, I do, that.

- Very well, then.

Come along upstairs.

(dramatic orchestral music)

You're of the same build as my mother, Riah.

And you have the same kind heart.

Take it.

It's yours.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Put it on and come to the drawing room.

We'll have some wine.

(suspenseful orchestral music)

The last of the cellar.

But never before has any of it been drunk

to such a beautiful woman.

Why are we made like this, Riah?

Given the faculty to love and yet so afraid of it

that we waste it in ways which bring us no joy?

Do you understand me, Riah?

You have brought joy, life to this house,

and a family.

I can't imagine now what my life was like without you.

From now on, my whole concern

will be for you and your children,

especially David.

I do so want him to become someone.

I'm talking like a father who has failed in life

and longed for a son to achieve his ambition.

Now go to your bed, Riah.

Go to your bed.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(clock chimes)

(Riah sobbing)

(dramatic music)

What's this?

- The shares which support your allowance

have fallen by half.

That's all I can advance.

- Morgan, I can barely pay my housekeeper as it is.

I promised her son a pony.

- I can't pay dividends on sympathy, Mr. Miller.

(emotional orchestral music)

- So, where's my pony?

- I know, I promised.

Maybe next time.

- Liar!

- Davey!

- Filthy liar!

- Davey!

- Go on, then.

Go meet your big brother.

- Davey, where's your horse?

- [Biddy] Ma!

- I'm going back to work.

From now on, it's all I'm going to do.

- Davey!

- The hell with Latin

and the hell with him.

- David.

David.

Lad, it's not in my power.

It wasn't my fault.

I'm so sorry.

- Leave us alone.

- I do care for you.

- Leave off.

- I'm so sorry.

- Leave off, I said.

(dramatic music)

- Oh my God.

God.

It's all right, Davey.

Don't worry.

It's all right, it's all right.

- Get off me.

(Miller screaming)

Get off me! - David!

- Let go! - David!

- [Davie] Leave off me!

- [Miller] Davie!

Please, Davie. - Davie!

- [Miller] I'm sorry!

- He kept holding us, Ma.

He kept holding us.

- Run and get Tol.

- You're nothing like a father.

(Miller crying out)

Keep still, man.

(Miller screaming)

- Now hold him still.

(Miller screaming)

(dramatic music)

- Where's Davey?

- Davey's with me, Riah.

He's not coming back.

(Riah sobs)

- I can get him set on as a stable lad up at the house.

It's what the lad always wanted.

- It's what the master wanted that caused this.

- Miller didn't leave him away.

He must be very fond of your family.

And you.

- Aye, he's fond of bairns, all right.

But not by a woman.

- Leave some room for pity, lass.

Sorry, lass.

(gentle music)

- It's healing up.

Good for you.

- Why is that?

Whether I walk or not?

- Exactly.

You're being still.

You'll be able to try it.

Keep trying.

I'll collect it next time.

I'll send him a crutch.

Good day.

- Did you ever hear the like?

- [Riah] He's right, though.

- What do you mean, he's right?

- You have to make an effort

and fend for yourself.

Me and the bairns are going.

- Might I ask why?

- You're not natural.

You're dirty.

- Don't you dare apply that word to me, woman.

Never!

What I felt for your son was good, it was blameless.

- Only your word for that.

- I loved the boy.

I still do.

As I might a son.

There are all kinds of love, Riah.

I have always loved beauty, whatever form it might take.

- Nothing makes amends for Davey.

I intend to go to Tol, no matter what.

- No you won't, Riah.

- You cannot stop us.

- Oh, yes I can.

You attempt to leave this house,

and I'll immediately inform the justices

that your son attacked me.

You know what would be the result of that.

- You'd see him transported?

You'd let him rot in jail?

- I would go to any lengths to keep you here.

I've already sacrificed my life

to preserve the purity of my love.

Because of my weakness, I gave up teaching.

Fled temptation to shut myself up here.

If you and your family deserted me now,

I would have nothing.

I swear it, Riah.

I will do exactly as I say.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Your mother's gown was payment for me son, wasn't it?

(dramatic orchestral music)

- [Biddy] Hello, Tol.

- How are you?

- [Riah] Tol, are you all right?

- All right.

Listen to this.

Dear Tol,

Annie wants to stay on here.

She has taken to town life and is company for me.

I hope you don't mind.

Your loving sister, Mary.

Mind?

Riah, when you taught us to read,

I never thought I would be as happy

as I was reading that letter.

But the road's clear, Riah.

Ah!

The road's clear.

- No.

No.

No.

Sit down, Tol.

- Hey, hey, hey.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

- It cannot be, Tol.

I can't go away with ya.

The master says

if I leave this house, he'll tell the justices about Davey.

- I have to tell the doctor it was an accident.

They won't believe him.

- They will.

He's gentry, Tol, and so are they.

- Then he'll be damned.

I'll go into him.

- Tol, Tol, Tol.

It won't do any good, Tol.

And I cannot take any more harm.

- What am I supposed to do, then?

Wait until he softens or pegs out?

I want to marry you, woman.

And you want to marry me.

Go on, deny it.

(Riah gasps)

You're right, right there.

Understand this.

I have me needs.

And if you're gonna give any to him,

I'm going to find somebody to take your place.

Do you understand that?

- Aye, Tol, I do.

And you listen to me.

I have me needs and all.

I wish you luck in your choice.

But I'd like to think that I'd be picked

for something else besides.

Now, do you understand that?

(dramatic orchestral music)

(fabric ripping) (dramatic orchestral music)

- I smell burning, Riah.

- You would.

- What are you burning?

- Nothing.

Just your mother's gown.

- Oh, Riah.

Riah.

Riah!

(dramatic instrumental music)

Riah!

(dramatic instrumental music)

(Biddy speaking Latin)

Meaning?

- He would rather be wrong with Plio

than admit that the others were right.

- Close.

(clock chimes)

Your Latin is much better.

At last.

But your accent is utterly provincial.

- Bet I could speak it as good as many young ladies.

- As good as.

Oh, Biddy.

I think I've wasted my years on you.

- Yes, as you so often say.

(Miller gasps) (suspenseful music)

Are you all right?

(suspenseful music)

(Miller gasps)

- Short and anything but sweet.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Sit down, Biddy.

When I die, your life will change somewhat.

- You wouldn't die if you took care of yourself.

- Biddy, your mother has started asking in the village

for another job when this one's over.

- [Biddy] No, but she just--

- Don't deny it.

Dr. Pritchard told me as part of his knack

for cheering me up.

Will Davey be at the house this Sunday?

- I should never have told you he comes here.

- No, but you did.

Think about Davey for me, Biddy.

Eh?

Come on, quick.

You can lean on me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Careful.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- [Riah] Get inside.

- She's seen us.

Come on.

Come on.

(dramatic orchestral music)

You lie there.

I'll go and make you something.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- I might of...

I could knock your block off.

You think you know everything, don't ya?

- [Biddy] Ma, he just wanted to see our Davey--

- I know who he just wanted to see, and so do you.

- Aye, and God knows why.

Our Davey's nothing but a big gormless lout.

(hand slapping)

- You've been asking for that for a long time.

You're getting far too big for your boots.

- Don't,

don't you ever hit us again for doing nothing wrong

or I'll hit you back.

And as for your lovely son,

he is a big brainless lout and he always will be.

Yet you love him better than any of us.

There, I be telling ya.

(sobs)

(emotional music)

- Please sit down, Mrs. Millican.

Now we are all present.

I, Percival Rigmore Miller of Moor House

in the county of Durham

do hereby leave the freehold property

with its three acres of land and all contents

in trust to Mariah Millican

until she either dies or remarries.

The house, all land, and all contents

will then pass in its entirety to Bridget Millican,

daughter of Mariah,

and on no account must any part or parcel

of the property or contents be sold or removed.

Should Mariah remarry,

she must no longer reside on the property.

I cannot leave any money to maintain the property,

but do not doubt that Mariah,

being an enterprising woman,

will find a way to meet this expense.

- A housekeeper and me own daughter.

Well, that's not right.

- Mrs. Millican, really.

- Even when he's dead,

he'd keep me a spinster in this house.

It's not right.

- Woman.

Don't you realize that you're the most fortunate

of human beings?

- Yes, yes, indeed.

- Yet you grumble at the conditions

your master has laid down.

- All I can say is he must have had good reasons

for making them.

- If you mean what I think you will,

you get out of this house right now.

Go on, out!

And I was never his mistress.

Never.

Sit down.

The master's left us the house.

- We got the house?

We've got the house?

- All right, sit down, sit down.

- There's no money coming in now.

There's no wages.

Johnny, you can stay and help at the garden.

Biddy,

Biddy, you'll have to go into service.

- Oh, let me go, Ma.

I can go work with Davey.

- You'll go where you're sent.

I've got to have some man about the place, haven't I?

(emotional music)

- [Miller] So does the eyes lead the brain,

so does insanity its power gain.

So does man look upon his kind,

and with love drives out of mind his mind.

So did I see David as a boy.

- I won't let your work go to waste.

Whatever happens,

I promise.

(emotional orchestral music)

(changes to optimistic orchestral music)

- Wait here, please.

(optimistic orchestral music)

- You'll get a shilling a week, payable every six months.

You will rise at five in the morning

and finish at six in the evening.

You'll attend church on Sunday.

Every other Sunday, you'll have time off

from two until seven in the summer

and from one until six in the winter.

You do not speak unless spoken to,

except for those on your own level,

the three laundry maids and the lower kitchen staff.

Do you understand me, girl?

- I understand you perfectly, Mrs. Fulton.

- Say goodbye to your mother.

- Bye, Bid.

- Bye, Ma.

- Behave yourself.

- Now, Miss Bridget.

If I ever again hear you try to imitate your betters,

you'll go without food and privileges

until you know your place.

Do you understand me?

- Yes.

- Yes, what?

- Mrs. Fulton.

- Yes, Mrs. Fulton, and never forget it.

- What's your name?

- Bridget Millican, but I'm called Biddy.

- From now on, you're Number Four.

You, Three.

Show her the ropes.

- Mrs. Fulton says watch this one.

She's trouble.

- You put the most in there to soak overnight

then you ring them out first thing in the morning

soon as the man's up.

The water's freezing.

It's trouser week for them in the stables.

You've got to scrub the bottoms after the soak

afore they go in the hot wash.

Never boil.

But these boil.

You look flummoxed.

- Well, it's just that I never worked in a laundry.

- What are you two up to?

I told you to show her the ropes.

- I have, Mrs. Fritz--

- Bank.

- Get your head down, woman,

and scrub before I throw you in it.

And roll your sleeves up, you idiot.

(emotional orchestral music) (women chattering)

- Are them books?

- Yeah.

- Can you read them?

- Yeah, I can.

- Hey, Biddy.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Would you read us a story tonight, Biddy?

- I'd love to.

What kind of stories do you like?

- Anything!

I just love hearing people reading.

Even the parson.

- How would you like to write your name?

- Me?

Write me name?

Nobody can write their name here.

- Give me three months,

I'll have you writing and reading

like the best of them.

I mean it.

I will.

- Oh, Biddy, I'm glad you've come.

I never had a friend afore.

(dramatic orchestral music)

("God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" playing)

- Give me my hair.

- Yes, madame.

- Oh, another Christmas dingdong, Hobson.

I never thought to see it.

- You'll see many more, madame.

- Don't always say the right thing, Hobson.

Get me to the window.

Come on.

Hurry, hurry.

("God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" playing)

My God, what is she wearing?

Why did my son have to marry

a sanctimonious trollop like that?

Pity the snow's not deeper.

I want the look tonight, Hobson.

Jar and all.

(bell tolling)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Grandmother.

- It's good to have you home, Laurence,

even if it is only to guide my chair at Christmas.

(Laurence laughs)

(bright orchestral music)

Let's not keep the servants standing.

They have a meal to see to.

(bell ringing)

Froggett.

- Thank you, mum.

Thank you, mum.

- Thank you. (Paul chuckles)

- Girl.

You're behaving like a servant.

(upbeat music) (servants cheering)

- [All] Song, dance, or rhyme.

- Dance.

- [Male Servant] Aw, look at that.

Come on now.

(upbeat jig) (servants cheering)

- Very good.

- Carry on, Froggett.

- Thank you, sir.

- Merry Christmas to you all.

- [Staff] Merry Christmas, sir.

- And Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas.

- Happy Christmas. - Merry Christmas.

- Right, come on.

Back into the circle.

(crowd chattering)

- [Froggett] Laurie.

(staff clapping)

- [Staff] Song, dance, or rhyme.

- Rhyme.

I fear thy kisses,

gentle maiden.

Thou needs not fear mine.

My spirit is too deeply laden

ever to burden thine.

I fear thy mane,

thy tunes,

thy motion.

Thou needs not fear mine.

Innocent is the heart's devotion

with which I worship thine.

(Lucy laughing)

(Laurence clapping)

- Disgusting.

I'll see you in the morning.

Come along everybody.

Dancing.

(staff chattering)

(upbeat fiddle music)

- You recited that very nicely.

- Oh, uh, thank you, sir.

- Who taught you to read like that?

- The master, sir.

I mean, Mr. Miller from Moor House, sir.

- What else did he teach you?

- Latin and French, sir.

The poem is by Shelley.

- [Stephen] Oh yes, of course it was.

Do you know any more?

- Uh, yes, I do.

- Uh, Stephen.

I think the young miss would like to join the party.

- Of course.

Run along.

(upbeat fiddle music)

- Poetry.

It was filth.

And then you had the effrontery

to speak to the young masters.

- But they spoke to me.

- Don't answer me back.

The master will not tolerate insolence

and education in his staff.

Golly,

you have no place in this household,

and I'll see to it that you'll leave

at the first possible time.

Do you understand me?

(bell ringing)

(Biddy sobbing)

(knocking on door)

- I've come to apologize.

- Apologize, sir?

Whatever for?

- Well,

I was remiss in talking to that girl last night.

You see, it wasn't my intention to single her out,

however, I do feel that she's rather bright,

don't you think?

- I...

I find her rather forward, sir.

- Yes, well, I agree,

but perhaps you'll take her under your wing.

Good.

Oh.

You've put on a splendid table

these last few days, Mrs. Fulton.

It's a credit to you.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Biddy, I've done it.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- You did.

- Is that your name?

- Yes.

- You wrote it yourself?

- Yes.

- And you learned her how to do it?

Bet you couldn't learn me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(horns sounding) (suspenseful music)

(dogs barking)

- Voila.

What have we here?

- Foxes.

Feral foxes.

- Run, foxes.

(staff calling out)

- Yip, yip, yip.

Come on.

(suspenseful music)

- Stop it.

Leave her alone.

Acting like idiots.

- She called us idiots.

- Oh, she's very learned.

She speaks French and Latin, didn't you know?

(speaks French)

(Paul speaks Latin)

- Your accents are utterly provincial.

(whip striking)

(water splashing)

(Lucy and Paul laugh)

Looks like our vixen's gone to work.

(screams)

Get her!

Bring her up.

(Biddy screaming)

Don't say a word.

Hold her.

- Don't, please, no.

- Make one move and you're next.

(Biddy shouting) - Keep quiet.

Get the rope.

Paul, quick.

(Biddy shouting)

(rack cranking) (Biddy shouting)

(whip striking)

(Lucy laughing)

- Go on, Paul.

(whip striking) (Biddy yelling)

(whip striking)

(whip striking)

(Biddy yelling)

- What happened, girl?

(Biddy yelling)

(whip landing) (Biddy yelling)

- Paul!

What the hell do you think you're doing?

(punch landing)

The rope, Stephen.

What do you think you're doing, hey?

- It wasn't my fault. - What possessed you?

- [Lucy] It was Paul's idea.

- Go on, get out.

What are you all looking at?

Get back to work.

I'm taking you straight to Father.

- That Millican again.

Clear the way, Mrs. Fulton, and see that she's attended to.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- What kind of example to the servants is this?

Every penny of your allowance is stopped.

Do you hear me, son?

As for you, miss,

clearly you need to learn some manners.

I am ashamed of you both.

You are these people's betters,

and by God, you'll both learn it.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Come to take you home, Bid.

- I'm staying.

I'm staying.

- Biddy, I'm sorry I ever left you here.

- I'm staying, Ma.

(energetic orchestral music)

- David Millican, stable lad.

- Amount, four pounds, nine shillings.

Make your mark.

(energetic orchestral music)

- I think that boy knows how to write.

- He does, sir.

He knows enough to keep quiet about it.

George Swinburn, stable hand.

- [Accountant] Amount, four pounds.

(Froggett calling out for staff)

- Amount, two pounds and 12 shillings.

Make your mark.

- [Froggett] Florrie McNulty, staff scrubber laundress.

- Amount, two pounds, nine shillings.

Make your mark.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Jean Bitton, staff scrubber laundress.

- Amount, two pounds and two shillings.

Make your mark.

- What is this, Froggett?

- Bridget Millican, laundry runabout.

- Amount, one pound and six shillings.

Sign.

- Let me tell you, miss.

It is forbidden.

You are here to work.

If I wanted my staff educated, I would order it.

Fetch me my housekeeper.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- This way, I think.

Hobson.

- Have that girl dismissed.

I will not have her in the house a moment longer.

You have no respect for your betters.

- One moment, Hobson.

- I will have you horsewhipped out of the house.

And as for both of you,

I can only say I'm deeply disappointed,

and I trust you will keep a closer watch

on the staff in future.

Oh, take her away.

- What's all of this?

- What's all of this?

That girl has defied me in my very house.

Running a school under my nose,

under the noses of my entire staff,

I should imagine.

- Be quiet.

Have the girl taken up to my room.

I shall deal with her presently.

Hobson, take me to the drawing room.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Nitwits, the pair of you.

And you, madame, are the bigger of the two.

If you send this girl packing,

it will be all over the county

that Gullmington couldn't bear his staff

to write their names.

- Tide what?

- I'm as much against it as you are,

but these days, there's a deal of noise in favor,

and Stephen needs to get into Parliament.

If you want a place in the rookery,

you've got to chirp the right tune.

- Mama--

- Oh, don't you Mama me.

This enthusiasm for educating the lower classes

will blow over.

Meanwhile, leave Miss Millican to me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Speak to me in French.

Did you hear me, girl?

(Biddy speaking French)

- Good Lord.

Did you hear that, Hobson?

A laundress slut speaking French.

Well, let that be the last evidence

of your learning I am to hear.

You're to work in my quarters.

You'll assist Hobson here, whom I've just about worn out.

But there'll be no more French,

and no more reading and writing.

Do you understand me, girl?

- Yes, madame.

- Yes.

But do you mean to obey me?

- I cannot promise faithfully, madame,

to obey you on that point.

- We can see now, can't we, Hobson,

why the whole household was up in arms?

- Yes, ma'am.

(madame laughs)

(madame coughs)

- Take her away and get her decently clothed.

We've got her now.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- What are you reading?

I'm sorry if I startled you.

May I?

Philosophy, is it?

Oh, Boethius.

My goodness.

- It's only in translation.

It's not the original French.

- Well, now.

Boethius.

I believe he teaches

that the differences between the highest and lowest

in society are due only to education.

Is that what you think?

- Yes.

There's much more truth in it than anyone cares to admit,

though I believe we all have different abilities,

whoever we are.

- You know, Biddy,

you are a remarkable person.

- I feel anything but, sir.

I only know that wherever I seem to land,

there's disturbance.

- Yes.

I have noticed.

Don't let anyone stop you reading.

- No, sir, they won't.

- Especially not me.

- Oh no, sir.

I didn't mean that...

I...

I don't often get the chance to talk to anyone like this.

- Nor I, Biddy.

Nor I.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Dr. Pritchard.

Madame will see you now.

Dr. Pritchard, ma'am.

- Morning, Pritchard.

- Morning, madame.

I see you've got the Millican girl at your beck and call.

- Oh, I don't know about beck and call.

In my day, servants used to scurry.

(voice muffled)

- Well, well, what can you expect

if you will employ an heiress.

Now, let's have a look at your chest.

- What did you say?

- I mean, may I listen to your chest.

- No, about an heiress.

- [Pritchard] Oh, you mean the Millican girl?

- [Madame] Take that thing away.

What did you mean?

- Well, it's common knowledge, madame.

If the mother remarries, then the house reverts to the girl,

lock, stock, and barrel.

- Is this a fact?

- It's specified in the will, madame.

And what's more, if the mother dies,

then the house still goes to the girl, not the boy.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Girl.

(bell ringing)

Girl!

Why didn't you tell me you were coming into property?

- [Madame] Oh, Lucy my dear.

When did you get in?

- About half an hour ago, grandma.

- [Madame] Go about your business, girl.

I'll speak to you later.

- Grandma.

(sobs)

- What's all this?

What's the matter?

(Lucy sobbing)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(bell ringing)

(dramatic orchestral music)

Come here, girl.

Girl, in spite of your insolent disobedience,

you were credited with some native intelligence.

I need to know if you can keep a secret.

- I hope I can, madame.

- Yes, you kept quiet enough about your inheritance,

which is why I've decided to trust you.

Don't try to look so humble, girl, it doesn't suit you.

Come and sit down here.

Come along.

Now, Miss Lucy is going to France to complete her education.

That's what I'm telling the family,

and that's what I'm telling you.

You'll find out the secret soon enough.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- That your sister?

- Yeah.

Yeah, that's her.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- They're all gone, Tol.

Except Johnny, and he's ready to run off.

I'm lost.

- There's a remedy for that, Riah.

Any minute of the day,

any day of the week.

I won't ask you to marry me now.

If you want to keep this house,

I can understand that.

But there was nothing in the will

to say that you couldn't love me

and me you.

Now, was there?

- Oh, Tol.

It's not the house, it's us.

It's me.

(sobs)

- It's me, love, it's me, lass.

You need me now, lass.

I need you.

I've loved you since I first saw you

standing with the bairns in the cottage yard.

That's as good as any scene of marriage for me.

- Oh, love.

I'll marry ya.

If you'll still have us.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Biddy?

- Yes?

- Do you think my parents would believe

I've been invited to stay in France over Christmas?

- I'm sure Mr. Laurence will explain it, miss.

- Biddy?

- Yes?

- Do you think Laurence likes me?

I mean, in spite of...

- Sure he does.

- Do you think he'd marry me?

- Marry you?

But he's your brother.

- He's not my brother at all.

Grandma took him into the family as a little boy.

She'd be delighted if Laurence and I married.

Don't you think?

- I couldn't say, miss.

It's not my place.

- Don't keep going on about place.

We're equal here, Biddy.

I couldn't face going home again.

I'd die.

- You won't die, miss.

You'll have a baby to care for--

- I won't.

You and your common outlook.

I'm not keeping the child.

The father's married, so he doesn't want it.

Someone else will have it.

Grandma promised me.

- Hello?

I'm back.

What?

No welcome?

- Hello, Laurence.

- What have you two been up to, then?

- Little quarreling.

It was only over you.

Biddy said that you weren't at all good-looking,

and that your French left a lot to be desired.

- Well, she was right on both counts.

- I must see madame about the meal.

(sigh)

Inequality.

(emotional orchestral music)

(gasps)

- Shh.

You know what I'm going to say to you, don't you?

- Uh.

- Have you never guessed how I feel about you?

- No.

Only that you have the way a boss.

- Oh, Biddy.

Biddy.

- Oh, Mr. Laurence.

- No more Mr. Laurence.

- It'll have to be.

No matter how I feel, I won't end up like Miss Lucy.

- You think it's my intention to use you in that way?

- What other way is there between us two?

- Well, I'll tell you what way?

- Yes?

- I'll tell you.

I cannot stop thinking about you.

When you're in a room, my eyes follow you.

I'm in love with a servant maid of my family

with more brains than the rest of them put together.

If my family reject me...

I have nothing of my own,

but I can scrape a living together by teaching

if you'll marry me

and starve with me till then.

(emotional orchestral music)

May I at least have your answer?

(emotional orchestral music)

- She come.

(maid speaking French)

(Lucy screaming)

- It's all right.

It's all right.

It's all right.

It's all right.

(Lucy screaming)

(baby crying)

(somber orchestral music)

- The luggage goes on to Moor House.

Open the gates, please.

We are expected.

- Well, I've been told to keep you out, sir.

- Open these gates now.

- But it's ordered, sir.

I'm really sorry.

- Come on, Laurence.

Come on, we'll go this way.

(thunder roaring) (baby crying)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- I can't believe Grandmama knows about this.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Heavens, Biddy, will I tell Madame that you's here.

- We'll announce ourselves.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Get out of here.

Hobson.

Froggett.

- Grandmama, we brought a child.

Lucy's daughter.

- Keep that thing away from me.

I thought you had more sense.

I sent you away to prevent a scandal, not to bring one home.

- Grandmama, we-- - Lucy ruined herself.

That's done.

Now, do you want to ruin the family, too?

You're behind this, girl.

This is your doing again.

- Grandmama, Biddy is going to be my wife.

(baby crying)

- Have you lost all sense of reality?

Are you completely mad?

Out, out!

And close the door.

(baby crying)

I shall make a bargain with you, miss.

I shall settle on you the sum of 500 pounds

if you'll take the child

and have nothing more to do with this young man.

- I won't bargain with a baby, madame.

Yes, I'll keep her.

She needs more love and a better family

than she'll ever have in this house.

It's you I feel sorry for.

- Laurence!

Laurence.

Is that what you want?

My serving maid and Lucy's bastard child?

- Well, if that's all you can see, Grandmama,

then I feel sorry for you, too.

- You won't get a penny.

- Wait a minute.

This way.

- Jean.

Jean.

How would you like to come and live with us.

Come on.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- They're here.

Ma, they're here.

(bright orchestral music)

- [Biddy] Ma!

Oh, Ma.

- Aye, lass.

Lass, I feel awful.

- Don't worry, Ma.

It's a long story, but...

- No, listen.

There's something I've got to tell you,

something I've never told you when the master died.

- I know, Ma.

I know.

I've known for a while,

and I hope I never come in in this house

till I'm a very old woman.

- Well, me and Tol are getting married,

so the place is yours whether you like it or not.

- Ma, that's grand.

- Oh, lass.

(baby crying)

Biddy.

- Oh, no, Ma.

I'll explain.

This is me ma.

This is Laurence.

- It's cold.

- [Biddy] Johnny.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Everyone was wondering where you were.

- Just here.

- You're crying.

What's the matter?

- Nothing.

It's just...

I was thinking about the things your grandmother said

and the way that she looked at me.

It made me wonder

what I'd be doing to you if we did marry.

- Biddy,

I'm not making a sacrifice.

I found a wife,

a new family,

a home.

- This is more than a home, Laurence.

This

is going to be

our school.

- It's always been a dream of mine

to have a school for young men.

- No, not just for young men.

For young women as well.

- Biddy...

- And

in equal numbers.

And in all subjects.

And with equal attention.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Most certainly, ma'am.

Equal in all.

(Biddy cries out)

(emotional orchestral music)