Original subtitles

The Mastersons want to come and stay, do they?

That's jolly good, Louisa.

They're people worth having.

Yes. More and more inquiries every day,

but nobody's actually come yet.

It'll take time.

Suppose I should advertise.

Not if you want to be particular

about your guests.

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

Now, I'm doing my best.

Every party I go to,

I become a positive bore

about the virtues of the Bentinck Hotel.

And of course,

everybody knows about your cooking.

Well, I don't want to go slaving away

in that bloody kitchen the rest of me life

cooking hundreds of pies for Mather's;

dinners for all and sundry.

I bet you by the summer,

the place will be overflowing.

Anyway, I thought you liked cooking.

Ah, there's cooking and cooking.

Done the shopping

for your little dinner party,

by the way.

My first at the Bentinck.

Quite an occasion.

How's that for a menu?

Ooh. Looks delicious.

Pâté de foie gras, quail pudding...

Oh, by the way, no garlic in anything.

No garlic.

She's a most awfully topping girl.

I think you'll approve.

Oh, that'll make a change.

Yeah. I met her at that hunt ball

in Hampshire last week.

Same party. Dances divinely.

Married?

I should hope so.

Yes. Husband's in the army,

conveniently on a mission to Egypt.

Well, she said she was going up to London

to do some shopping this week,

so I asked her to dine.

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

You're irresistible, that's your trouble.

She likes roses.

Does she, now?

Well, she can go on liking them.

She's getting none here.

I've got some nice spring flowers,

nice and fresh... And virginal.

Well, I shall go out

and buy myself a new waistcoat

to impress her.

Right.

Well...

Looks like we got a visitor

wanting to stay, ma'am.

Have we, now?

Here, take the tray away, Mary.

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

STARR: Certainly, sir.

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

Indeed?

Excuse me one moment, sir.

Certainly.

Who's Old Whiskers, then?

Gent by the name of Smith-Barton;

Major Smith-Barton, D.S.O.

How'd you know all that?

There was a letter sent here

waiting for him to collect.

Don't like that. Sounds like a trick.

Coronet on the envelope.

He seems a gentleman. Fred gave him a wag.

All right. I'll see him.

Very good.

Here, where's your respect?

Very good, madam.

If you'd care to step into

Mrs. Trotter's room, sir...

straight across the hall.

Thank you.

You might have to carry that lot out again.

It's a hotel, isn't it?

Private hotel.

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

same as any other hotel?

That depends. That all depends.

Just back from the east.

Been out there a longish tour.

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

I see, major.

I've been down in Suffolk,

shooting with my cousin Lord Dedham.

Said he'd heard the old Bentinck

had opened again, run by a damn fine woman

who really knew how to cook.

That's nice.

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

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

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

after all those years in the sun,

so I upped sticks and made for London.

Was you thinking of a set of rooms, major?

Oh, lord, no.

I'm an old campaigner, you know.

I don't like a lot of fuss.

If you've got a boot cupboard somewhere,

it'll do me.

Oh, well, I think we can do something

a bit better than that.

If you'll follow me.

Thank you.

Putting the major in number 11, Starr.

Madam.

Thank you.

Thank you, sir.

I wonder if I might have a loan

of your "Sporting Life."

Well, certainly, sir.

You're sure you've finished with it?

He's better without it.

You're very kind.

Nicest part of London, this, I always say.

Like an armchair.

Oh, yes.

MAJOR: I wonder

if I might have luncheon in my room:

cold pheasant and a bottle of Claret...

something like that.

Certainly, major.

Did you hear that, Merriman?

I did, ma'am. I did.

How very kind.

Charming servants you have, ma'am.

That old fossil's deaf as a post

unless he chooses not to be.

I only keep him on out of kindness.

Of course, in India,

one gets used to half-trained boys.

Seems to have got his feet under the table

nice and quick.

Aye, he's the sort.

We'll never get rid of him

now he's here.

And he'll want every meal

carried up to his room...

breakfast, luncheon, tea, dinner.

I've seen them before.

There was a day not so long ago

an old gentleman wouldn't have had

his luncheon in his hotel.

What does he think his club's for?

Oh, I don't know what some people

are coming to these days.

I may be old,

but I still know what's what.

Well, I reckon Major Whiskers

is a bit of a sporting old gentleman.

What do you say, Fred?

Now, when Mr. Tyrrell and his guest

have finished the soup,

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

And let me know when they're ready

for me quail pudding.

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

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

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

Very well.

And get done quick when it's over.

Won't want you hanging about

like a drunk at a wedding.

Yes, ma'am.

Fell, 3 out.

Oh.

Probably brought down.

Or interfered with.

Not the horse's fault, sure of that.

Real good one.

Oh, well, you can't always win.

What's your fancy for tomorrow, major?

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

Absolute snip. Can't go wrong.

I had it in confidence

from a fella...

Is this the Bentinck Hotel?

Yes, madam.

Mr. Tyrrell's party. Mrs. Travers.

Mr. Tyrrell's guest.

Will you follow me, madam?

Nice-looking filly, that.

Bit of blood there.

Highly strung, I shouldn't wonder.

Be all right with the right jockey up,

eh, major?

MARY: Mrs. Travers is here, sir.

Oh, please, show her in.

My dear Belinda,

how nice to see you again.

Good evening, Charles.

Do please sit down.

Cold out. Raw.

Yes, beastly. Horribilino.

How about something to warm you up?

A glass of Madeira?

No, thank you.

Oh. Well, perhaps a glass of Champagne?

Well...

Don't open a bottle especially for me.

Oh, heavens, no.

It's mother's milk to me.

What an unusual place this is.

Not a bit like a hotel.

No. That's the idea.

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

thought it would be a good idea

to make it more like a sort of country house,

don't you know?

How quaint.

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

Hmm. Yes, it was really quite deevy.

Tubby Vernon dressing up as a footman

and spilling the soup all over

Admiral Squeezy Dick's shirt

was really quite a lark, wasn't it?

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

I bet the old devil played footy-footy

with you under the table.

Yes, he did, actually.

It was most awfully embarrassing.

Oh, I don't blame him.

What did you do?

Oh, my mother taught me

always to have a fork ready.

To repel invaders, eh?

I must be careful.

I say, that's the most awfully nice dress

you're wearing.

Oh, I'm so glad you like it.

It was part of my trousseau.

My sister said she thought

it was rather risque.

I'm staying with her in Paddington.

Oh, Paddington.

So handy for the park.

Yes.

I always seem to be cuckooing

with some friend or relation or other

when Basil is away.

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

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

One is so completely undisturbed...

private, if you know what I mean;

one's own little nest.

You'll have me tiddly, you know.

Oh, nonsense.

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

We don't want to spoil our palates.

No.

I say, I hope you're hungry.

Quite famishared, actually.

Good, because Mrs. Trotter

really is a very good cook.

Was I boringly early,

or is everyone else boringly late?

CHARLIE: Well, there isn't anyone else.

I thought just a little intimate...

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

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

but I had no idea.

Well, you asked me to a dinner party

in a hotel.

I couldn't possibly dine with you alone.

It would cause an absolute scandalare.

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

Oh. Oh, my dearest Belinda,

you are teasing me, aren't you?

It's awfully unkind to be such a tease.

No, Charles, I'm not, really.

Really, I'm not.

But no one will ever know, Belinda.

Just one evening.

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

Please don't touch me, Charles.

I never took you for a...

For a cad.

If Basil knew, he would shoot you.

Shoot me?

He shot a man in Durban for less.

He shot him?

You mean he killed him?

He only grazed his finger, actually,

but that was because the man moved.

I see.

Do please forgive me, Belinda.

Silly mistake on my part.

Yes, Charles, it was, rather.

You'd like to go home?

Yes, I would.

My carriage wasn't ordered until 10:30.

Then you'll stay. I knew you would.

No, I won't.

Then I'll find you a cab.

I couldn't go in a hackney cab,

not at night.

I'm sure Basil wouldn't mind

just this once.

Top the water up under me quail pudding,

would you, Mrs. Wellkin?

Yes, ma'am.

What the hell are you doing down here?

Sorry you couldn't stay longer.

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

to see you home?

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

just this once.

Well, good night, Belinda.

I hope we see each other again soon.

So do I. Good night, Charles.

Next time, we'll have a proper party.

Good night, Charles.

Good night.

Didn't even get her to the post.

Well, I'll be damned.

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

Stood up good and proper, was you?

Well, I never did.

Stupid woman.

Typical stuffy, middle-class army.

Cut and run when she become aware

of your dishonorable intentions, eh?

Poor old Casanova.

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

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

Well, thank heavens there's some honest,

decent women left in the world

what's prepared to be faithful to their husbands

and behave themselves.

Thank you, Louisa,

for those comforting and consoling words.

I don't think it's very funny.

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

Oh, Louisa, I do want to apologize

after all the trouble you've taken.

I really am most awfully sorry.

Don't worry.

Forget about the ladies for one night, eh?

Sit down. Enjoy my nice dinner.

Just like you to take it on the chin

without moaning.

Thanks.

Louisa, will you dine with me?

Me? Yes.

Do me the honor of dining with me.

No, Charlie. Not possible.

Got another 50 pies to come out of the oven.

Oh, Mrs. Wellkin can take them

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

and I've got all the stuff to prepare

for Lady Manton's dinner party tomorrow night.

That's tomorrow night, not tonight.

Relax. Enjoy yourself tonight.

Take a night off.

No one's worked harder or deserves it more.

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

It'd give me great pleasure if you would,

and I do need cheering up.

Well, I don't know.

In fact, I'd say

it was your duty to cheer me up.

Aren't I more important than Lady Manton?

All right, then, Mr. Misery.

Everything's just about ready.

I suppose I'll manage.

Thank you, Mr. Tyrrell.

I should be pleased to accept

your kind invitation to dinner.

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

Uh, Merriman? Yes, sir.

Put two bottles of the Clicquot Vin Rosé 93

on ice, would you?

Yes, sir. Thank you.

Yeah. That's nice, Mary.

I always did my mother's hair.

She was proud of it.

She said it was the only beautiful thing

she had left in the world.

What about her daughter?

Oh, go on, ma'am.

Yeah.

Right.

Oh.

Here we are.

Ta.

Wish I had a nice tiny waist

like yours, ma'am.

Can't be more than 18 inches.

Oh, that comes from not eating, Mary.

Nothing but tea and toast

for so long.

I ain't worn this not since...

Well, not since we've come here.

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

No, it's the jet tonight.

It's got to be.

Why is that?

Well-brought-up ladies' maids

don't ask that sort of question, Mary.

No, Mr. Tyrrell gave me that...

Long time ago.

How's that, then?

Oh, you look beautiful, ma'am.

You look like a real duchess.

You do, really.

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

What a laugh. Nothing to do all day

except eat too much, sleep too much,

talk too much.

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

LOUISA: Pink Champagne's pushing the boat out

a bit, isn't it?

Well, it's a special occasion.

I didn't even know

we had any in the cellar.

Ah, but Merriman and I knew,

didn't we, Merriman?

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Well, here's to

a first-rate secondhand evening.

Well, shall we try this woman's cooking?

Hmm.

And what would you say to your lady

if she was sitting here?

Well... With the first course,

start off with the weather.

The weather? Huh!

You can tell Mrs. Wellkin

this toast is like a soggy mattress.

Yes, ma'am.

Weather don't sound too romantic to me.

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

How the fog stopped the pheasants flying well

at Mentmore.

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

If your lady likes shooting,

you want to watch out.

Or perhaps if she likes hunting,

we might consider together how many days

the Belvoir has been stopped by frost this season,

then go over every yard of that splendid hunt

we had with the Warwickshire last November,

never missing a fence.

Then we could consider the merits

of the big bay gelding...

what if she likes tiddlywinks?

Then we shall play tiddlywinks later.

Just now, it is essential

to return to the weather.

Why?

Because...

Just as I am suggesting

that we should go skating together

on the Serpentine, a thought strikes me.

"Is the lady cold?"

Well, I'm immediately all attention and apprehension.

I must find out.

Is her tiny hand frozen?

Here, stop it.

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

she looked like a real duchess.

She did, really.

How do you know what a duchess looks like?

Have you ever seen one?

No, not really. Only in pictures.

Well, she's acting like one,

and that's a fact.

Soggy toast, indeed.

What does she expect,

leaving me to cook the whole dinner

single-handed at the last minute?

I bet you there'll be a moan

about the quail pudding next.

Well, now the time is ripe

to embark upon more serious subjects...

such important matters

as where the lady is staying for Ascot.

Oh, that's easy. Windsor Castle,

if the queen'll weather it.

Louisa, I said "Serious."

Like what horribilino plays she's been to

and what deevy house parties

and where she dinared before dansareing

with that divine partnerino.

Oh, God.

And who's been hopping into bed

with who, no doubt.

Put rather crudely. Yes.

Well, if you will excusare me.

Right.

Ah.

And what do you think

your lady would say to that?

She would be enchanted.

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

They always do.

She'd say that she had heard

this Mrs. Trotter was not only

the best cook in London;

but a most beautiful woman to boot.

And of course, I'd have to explain

that Mrs. Trotter was in reality

a nasty old dragon with a face

like the back end of a horse bus.

You'd better watch it, Mr. Tyrrell.

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

High jinks up there, Mr. Merriman?

Heh!

High jinks it is, and no mistake.

Bit perky, our Mrs. Trotter,

eh, Fred?

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

♪ When she left the village, she was shy ♪

♪ But alas and alack ♪

♪ she's come back ♪

♪ With a naughty little twinkle in her eye ♪

Ha ha ha!

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

Ha ha ha!

Oh, my God.

I think it's about time your lady

went back to her pots and pans.

No, not quite.

Not till I've told her

that her hair is like the finest gossamer

seen at dewy dawn;

her eyes like twin pools of rare delight;

her cheeks like blushing clouds...

what about her Hampsteads?

Huh?

Uh, a ring of pearls

culled from an eastern crown.

Not bad. Not bad.

Where was I?

Cheeks like blushing clouds.

Oh, yes. Um, lips...

Like two rosebuds newly op'd in June.

Neck like a column of Alabaster.

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

Yes.

Then I tell her that I love her.

And your magic spell always works, eh?

No.

It's rather like hooking a salmon.

That's the real sport of the thing.

It's just a sport, is it?

I suppose it is... Usually.

And you always win in the end?

No.

Sometimes the lady says her carriage is waiting.

I ain't got a carriage.

She wants tea and biscuits and a pear.

She can whistle for them

as far as I'm concerned.

It's not my job.

Hey?

Well, there's pears there.

Eh, too ripe.

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

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

Would I go and do the marketing

for Lady Manton in her place?

It's not right, Mr. Merriman.

I can't do everything in this hotel.

We can only any of us do our best,

Mrs. Wellkin, I should think.

Oh, yes.

But I never come back here to be put upon.

Do our best?

I reckon the best thing I can do

is tell Mrs. Trotter to find somebody else

to do her cooking.

Oh.

You want to watch it, Mr. Merriman.

Eh?

Proper tantrum she's in this morning.

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

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

She bit me head off.

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

"Why are there dirty paw marks

"all over this floor?

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

"Not a bleeding dogs' home."

She's got out of bed the wrong side,

and that's a fact.

And not her own bed, either.

Is that what you think, Mr. Merriman?

It's not what I think.

Oh. Old Major Whiskers is still in bed.

As I was making up his fire,

he was telling me about how he fought

the fierce pythons of the northwest frontier of India.

Pathans.

Huh?

Pathans.

Oh, yes, that's right.

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

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

Just like the Welsh.

Mr. Merriman, he'd like some biscuits

and a glass of light port at 11:00.

And the loan of your sporting paper,

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

That all? That's all.

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

get it all done at this rate.

Morning.

Hello.

Will you come out to lunch with me?

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

not waltzing round the West End with you.

Your tea, ma'am.

Thank you, Merriman.

Do you want a cup?

No, thank you.

This pear is not ripe.

I know, but...

well, take it away, then.

Yes, ma'am.

Don't bring me unripe pears in future.

I won't.

Oh, Charlie, what have we gone and done?

What will people say? What will they think?

No one will know.

Well, of course they'll know.

The servants will find out,

then everyone will know.

Well, does it matter?

"Have you heard

"That Mrs. Trotter at the Bentinck

tucks up with her customers?"

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

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

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

You know very well I don't.

No, your magic spell wouldn't have worked

unless I'd wanted it to.

I just feel in me bones it's dangerous.

We can't go back now.

No, but we can take a pull,

a real pull.

Stop?

Yeah.

Is that what you really want?

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

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

Hardly ever, come to that.

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

Look. I got all the accounts to do.

Got that dinner party for 24 tonight.

Yes.

All right.

Just locking up, Mrs. Trotter.

Sorry we're late.

We was held up in the fog.

Dinner go all right?

Yeah. I think they was highly delighted.

Good night, then.

I'll turn the lights out.

All right, madam.

Good morning, general.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Good morning. Good morning.

Good morning.

Something for Fred.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Trotter.

MERRIMAN: Excuse me, ma'am.

There's a message

come around to the kitchen

from the German Embassy.

Can you do dinner for 30

Thursday night?

Oh, my God.

I'll join you, Charlie.

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

Yeah, she can do it.

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

What's the matter?

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

Well, I'm going to the theater that night

to see "The country girl,"

So you can tell them the answer is no.

Very good, ma'am.

German embassy.

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

Chocolate cake, Fred.

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

Ha ha ha!

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

and no mistake.

30 for Thursday?

She's gone barmy, and no mistake.

That's what she said.

I suppose she's forgotten

there's people staying in this hotel

who have to be cooked for as well.

And more coming!

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

That's a fact.

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

who looked after her servants

better than Mrs. Trotter did.

Really thoughtful.

I'll grant you

her temper's never been good,

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

This spoony business...

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

Oh, isn't it lovely?

Oh, ta ever so much.

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

That'll put them lady doo-dahs' noses

out of joint.

Oh, it's honeysuckle. Look.

♪ I am your honey, honeysuckle ♪

♪ You are my bee ♪

♪ Ah, di, da ♪

Oh, Charlie, darling!

Oh, I feel tingly all over.

Like when I had measles, but nicer.

I don't care about nothing.

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

I must be going potty, I really must.

Oh, it's nice, though.

It's like being up in the air somewhere.

Everything else is ever so small

except just us.

Do you feel like that?

Very happy. Not quite like that.

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

you know, all sort of giddy?

Yes, I have,

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

I developed an absolute passion

for one of the girls who worked in the dairy

at home on the farm.

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

I just gazed from afar in adoration.

Ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha!

I soon grew out of it.

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

Here, Charlie, come on. Let's.

This time of day?

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

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

Oh, don't be so stuffy.

Come on up to my room.

Nobody turns down my bed.

It's nice and warm and cozy up there.

Come on.

MARY: Mr. Merriman.

Huh?

This passion Mrs. Trotter has...

Eh?

It's changed her nature.

Terrible she seems to have gone.

All flighty.

I suppose it's marvelous for her,

being in love and all that.

May be a marvel for her,

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

More like sitting on a powder keg for us.

An explosion, is it, Mr. Merriman?

Any second of the day.

Order and sense out of the window.

Confusion reigns.

"The country girl" instead of the German Embassy,

if you get my drift.

Not entirely, Mr. Merriman.

Hmm?

There was a chef in a hotel

where I worked once.

He had a great touch with fish.

Could make a common piece of hake

taste like turbot.

But when he had a passion on him...

there'd be a spell that he had one

once a week...

why, then, I tell you the truth,

he could make sole taste worse than skate.

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

She's took bad, then.

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

It'll be thankful release when it comes.

But not in the ruins of the Bentinck Hotel.

Mmm. You have a most powerful imagination,

Mr. Merriman.

Yeah, lucky for some, but not for others.

What you have in this world, you pay for.

Good afternoon, sir.

I'd like to see a room, please.

Yes, sir.

Sitting room, bedroom, bathroom.

You have such arrangements?

Yes, sir. Good.

I'm sorry, sir.

I can't take on any new guests,

not without the proprietor's permission.

May I see the proprietor, then?

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

When will she be back?

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

Major, excuse me.

Mrs. Trotter didn't mention to you

when she'd be back, did she?

No. She's been out a lot lately.

In fact, a great deal.

Well, in the meantime,

perhaps I could look at the rooms available.

I have a cab waiting outside.

Oh, not without Mrs. Trotter being here.

She's very particular, you see.

What exactly do you mean to imply

by that remark?

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

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

Uh, yes.

Mrs. Trotter's very particular.

And where, by the way, sir,

do you come into it?

Oh, not at all, really.

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

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

I should be obliged

if you would give Mrs. Trotter my card

with my compliments

and tell her that in future

I shall not be bothering her anymore.

There are plenty of hotels in London

where they do have rooms.

Yes, my lord.

I'm exceedingly sorry, my lord.

The sorrow is mutual.

Good day.

Do you think I did right, major?

I'm sure you did, Starr.

Sure you did.

STARR: I hope so.

Fred didn't wag his tail or anything.

Still, Mrs. Trotter has a real weakness

for lords.

Yes, but she does like to pick them herself.

That's true.

And I don't think this one was anything special

in the way of lords.

Still, what a way to run a hotel,

eh, major?

Your papa was the best fagmaster

I ever had at Eton.

Always gave me a tip for everything I did.

You know, a ha'penny or a sausage

or something...

not like that fellow

Master William Duckworth.

He was a real brute.

If his eggs or his toast

weren't done exactly right,

he used to give me a terrible walloping.

I hated that fellow's guts.

I never thought I should ever feel sorry for him,

but I did.

He joined some smart cavalry regiment,

treated his men just like he treated me

at school,

and they wouldn't stand for it.

Mutinied.

Duckworth was court-martialed.

Last time I saw him,

he was an old man of 45

drinking himself to death in Boodle's.

Gone to pot.

Rather like this place.

What do you mean?

You aren't implying

that Louisa Trotter bullies the servants?

Oh, lord, no.

She's a most charming woman.

It's just that, uh...

Rather going to the dogs.

You probably wouldn't notice,

but the servants chatter away to me.

They, uh, pour out their troubles

to the old Dutch Uncle.

It's very sad.

They're not at all happy at present.

In fact, I think Starr and the cook

are thinking of leaving.

I say, that... that is bad.

I'd be sad to have to go myself.

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

especially after all they told me

about Mrs. Trotter

making such a great effort

to get the hotel open in the first place.

Yes, indeed. Mmm.

Still, I...

I don't suppose there's anything

you and I can do about it.

A nice drop of Port, this.

Yes, it's Croft's '72.

I brought it up from home.

Father's been forbidden to drink the stuff,

to his fury.

How is he?

Mmm,

not awfully good, actually.

He had a very bad fall out hunting

a couple of months ago.

Hasn't got right.

It's his back, really.

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

He and my mama are just off to New York

to see some quack over there.

Oh. Very sorry.

I was given a pipe of Port

by a very generous godfather

as a christening present.

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

Well, how is that?

When I was 21 and the stuff

was just ready to drink,

I had to sell it off to pay my debts.

It probably saved me

from getting chronic gout.

Oh, well, I'd better turn in

if I'm to look for another billet tomorrow.

Good night, Charlie. Thanks for the Port.

Good night, sir.

General and Mrs. Maxwell

are coming for a few days,

so I figure I'll put them

in, uh, number 5.

So make sure it's all clean and ready.

Yes, ma'am.

Will you be requiring flowers in there?

Why flowers?

He's only a general, not The Pope.

And Mr. Tyrrell's going away.

I see, ma'am.

Got to go off with his ma and pa

to America.

How long will he be gone for?

No idea.

Well, anyway, it will give me the chance

to give his room a real cleanout.

That's right.

Good-bye, Merriman.

Good-bye, sir.

Bye, Fred. Bye, Mary.

Look after Mrs. Trotter, won't you?

We will, sir.

All ready, sir.

Thank you, Starr.

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

Good morning, Starr.

Good morning, sir.

Damn nice dog, that of yours.

Yes, major.

I had a dog very like yours myself

once in India.

Marvelous ratter.

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

I daresay, major.

Nice sporting sort of dog.

By the way, Starr,

there's a good thing going

in the 2:00 at Plumpton.

Near certainty. Nice price, too.

Timbelino.

Put a guinea on it for me, will you?

Yes, major.

A guinea, you said, major?

That's right.

If you could advance me the money,

I should be most grateful.

Of course, you get 50% of the winnings

at 14-1.

Very well, major.

Much obliged, Starr.

Is Mrs. Trotter alone?

Yes, sir, she is. Mmm.

Come on, Fred.

Time you had your wash and brush up.

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

I can certainly smell one... Quite clearly.

I wonder if I might

have a word with you, Mrs. Trotter.

Yeah, of course you can, major.

Come in.

It's a bit awkward.

The fact is,

I have a favor to ask of you.

About money, is it?

Eh, yes, it is, rather.

Um, shortage of same...

temporary shortage of same.

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

Trustees being a bit tiresome.

Of course, it won't be long now.

It's just a question

of getting things sorted out.

Of course, I realize

I can't go on staying here

with my bill unpaid.

Of course you can, major.

This old place is humming like a top.

It's not gonna ruin us.

Wouldn't be the same without you.

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

I'm really most awfully grateful.

Just forget it. Take a pew.

We'll have a glass of wine

and drown our sorrows.

Had any news of Charlie Tyrrell?

Yeah. He just sent a postcard.

Oh.

"Dreadful voyage.

"Sick as cats all the way,

and New York is cold as charity."

Oh, Merriman, bottle of wine, please.

Yes, ma'am.

And not that muck

you brought up last time.

Bottle of the Bollinger '93.

Bollinger '93.

All right for you, major?

Oh. '93.

He's short of the tinkle.

That's Old Whiskers' trouble.

How can you tell that, Mr. Starr?

Can always tell

when they get specially friendly

and confidential,

then borrow a guinea off you

to put on a certainty.

Mr. Starr says that Major Whiskers

is short on money, Mr. Merriman.

Can that be true?

Oh, he's not paying for this wine,

I can tell you that.

She's paying for it.

Drinking the profits.

But how can a gentleman not have any money?

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

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

He never will have any available.

People like him never do and never will.

Money just slips through their hands

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

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

workingman, as you might say.

Only to a gentleman.

Why is that?

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

and there's nothing you can do about it.

STARR: Now, don't you listen

to old gloom, Mary.

People like the major

have their ups and downs,

that's all.

One day soon, you'll find

he'll be suddenly so flush,

he'll be taking a set of rooms

just to himself...

And buying a string of racehorses

into the bargain.

Oh. Sorry, ma'am.

As Mr. Tyrrell was away,

I thought I'd get his bedroom curtains washed.

All right, Mary.

Mary, come in here.

Yes, ma'am?

Sit down. What?

I said sit down, cloth-ears.

I'm gonna have a baby.

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

Oh, what a terrible thing.

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

I'm sure even in Wales

people make mistakes sometimes.

What are you gonna do?

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

No, I'm not.

Not having anyone do me in

with dirty knitting needles.

Anyway, I happen to believe

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

and you have to lump it.

Now, no one's to know about it

except you and me.

But Mr. Tyrrell will have to know.

No, he won't,

and you won't tell no one.

No, I won't.

Will you swear on it?

Cross my heart and hope to die.

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

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

stop all me outside cooking.

And you'll have to run this place.

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

You will when I've finished with you.

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

so you subtract the debit,

and that makes that 11 pounds, 3 shillings,

and 5 pence, 3 farthings, right?

Now, that's profit.

That's not bad for one day.

Now, keep all the cash in here,

locked up always.

And when there's enough,

you take it around to the bank

in St. James Street.

What's enough?

Oh, when it's nice and heavy.

You have to use your savvy.

Oh, I see.

Right. Next page.

Now, tomorrow's Friday,

so we have to pay all them bills.

We'll make a list of them.

Now, you want to answer all the letters

the day they come.

That way, it's more polite...

especially people inquiring about rooms and that.

Have a look at them.

Well, how can I tell

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

not being a snob like you?

Oh, there's ways of telling.

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

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

Might be all right.

On the other hand, he might not.

He might have just tacked the Worthington

on to the Jones for luck.

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

Now, never trust colored papers.

And the address is printed proper,

from a plate.

You feel that? Now, that's engraved.

Common people wouldn't know about that.

I see.

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

thanking him for his esteemed inquiry,

et cetera.

But suppose somebody comes in?

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

Oh, you can always ask Starr or Merriman.

They'll have quite a good idea.

If you're really stuck,

you can ask old Major Whiskers.

He might not be here.

Oh, he'll be here, all right.

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

Charlie. My dear fellow.

How splendid to see you again.

Thank you.

My goodness.

How we've all missed you.

Oh. Well, the place seems buzzing.

Oh, yes, going splendidly.

Full up with

the most awfully good lot of people.

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

Yes. It has been pretty grim.

In the end, quite frankly,

it was a merciful release

when he did die.

Glass of Port?

If you'll forgive me,

I have rather a lot to do.

Hello, Merriman. Been well?

Oh, fairish, my lord.

Middling, as you might say,

in the circumstances, but, uh,

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

it's as good as a tonic

to have you back with us.

Thank you.

Be a good fellow

and bring a bottle of wine

into Mrs. Trotter's room, will you?

Uh, she's not there, my lord,

but, then, you know that.

Why, no, I didn't.

Been away on the sick list

a goodish time,

hasn't she, Merriman?

Oh, fair bit of time now, my lord.

What's wrong with her?

Oh, a bit off color, out of sorts.

Gone away somewhere.

Really? Very strange.

Who looks after the hotel?

Miss Phillips is in charge

since Mrs. Trotter left.

Miss Phillips? Mmm.

Oh. Thank you, Merriman.

Oh, so you're Miss Phillips,

are you, Mary?

Oh, sir. My lord.

We wasn't expecting you back, my lord.

Your room's not ready.

I was only passing through.

What's all this about Mrs. Trotter?

Well, she was took poorly

with her nerves and all that,

and the doctor said

she had to go away and rest.

But I had a letter from her

just before I sailed.

She didn't say anything about it.

Well, um, she said to me

she didn't want to worry you...

you with troubles enough of your own.

Where is she, Mary?

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

Somewhere on the coast.

Been traveling about, you know.

Mary, I want to know where she is.

I swore I'd not say to anyone.

I can't tell you.

Is she all right, Betty?

That's what I was going to ask.

Oh, crikey, Charlie.

You didn't half give me a turn.

I'm sorry about your dad.

So you're Lord Haslemere now, eh?

So it's a girl, is it?

I'll kill that Mary.

Not her fault.

I found these.

Oh...Charlie.

They're rather out of date.

However did you find out about the baby?

Worked it out.

How?

It's 3 hours on the train

down here from London.

Plenty of time to think.

You left the hotel just as things

were beginning to get busy.

That didn't sound like the Louisa Trotter

I used to know.

She wouldn't have left that place

even if she was dying,

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

from me, from everyone.

It didn't take Sherlock Holmes

to guess what it was.

I ain't been too clever, have I?

They all know?

No, no one else.

Was it bad?

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

Why, Louisa?

Why didn't you tell me?

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

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

God, you are pigheaded sometimes.

None of my business? How dare you.

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

Well, men are born to chase after women,

aren't they?

Otherwise, there'd be no human race.

And women have got to watch out,

or they cop it.

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

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

No trouble, not like her mother.

You really thought you'd get away with it?

Well, I nearly did.

Another week, clean and clever.

Not very clever.

What are you gonna do with her?

Well, I haven't worked it out,

not exactly, but...

She'll be looked after proper.

She won't lack for nothing.

Except a mother and a father.

You didn't need to say that.

I think I did.

Louisa, I want you to marry me.

Oh, you're a real gentleman, Charlie,

I'll say that for you.

You don't have to do the honorable thing,

not this time.

I love you, you silly woman.

Yeah, but would you have asked me to marry you

if it hadn't been for the baby?

I don't know.

Quite frankly, I don't know.

It's not a very fair question.

It's the greatest compliment

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

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

But you don't love me?

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

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

anyone's wife.

I mean, look at that baby.

It's a nice enough little baby,

but I don't love it.

I mean, it could be anyone's

as far as I'm concerned.

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

I wouldn't be no good as Lady Haslemere.

I'm best left as Louisa Trotter, eh?

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

Not to pull the wool.

Only leads to trouble later on.

Yes.

It was a wonderful thing that we had.

Shan't never forget it, ever.

But it's over.

So...best to frame it, eh?

Then we'll always have it to look back on

when things is bad.

Well, you're bound to feel a bit low

after the baby.

Perhaps you'll change your mind.

Oh, I ain't been too bad.

Quiet of this place gets me down.

It's like a cemetery with seagulls.

All I want to do

is get back to noisy old London

and my hotel.

Louisa...

Would you mind if I took charge of the baby?

One of the grooms and his wife

at home in the country

have just lost their child.

They're an awfully nice couple.

I think they'd be very...

yeah, that's a good idea.

May I go and take a look at her?

Yeah. Yeah. That'd be nice.

Ah, Starr, your paper.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Morning, Mary.

Morning.

Morning, Fred.

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

Got him all dolled up,

ready to greet Mrs. Trotter,

and what does he do but miss parade?

Some lady friend down at St. James' square.

I'll bet Fred's a devil

with the ladies.

By the way, major,

Mrs. Trotter sends her compliments

and would be obliged

if you'd call on her in her room

at your convenience.

Oh. Right you are.

Thank you.

Poor old Major Whiskers.

Can't help feeling sorry for him.

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

When I saw your bill was still unpaid, major,

I couldn't hardly believe me eyes!

I...I really am most dreadfully sorry.

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

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

Eh... As a matter of fact,

I'm expecting a draft any day now.

I tell you what,

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

Come off it, major.

Any draft you get goes straight on the ponies.

Now, this hotel ain't run

as a charitable institution,

not no more.

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

Rather dug in now.

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

of paying you back.

I could think of one, major.

STARR: Good afternoon, my lords, my lady.

Major.

Ah.

Oh, Henry!

Hello, Barty, old boy.

Haven't seen you for years.

Anthea.

How splendid to see you again.

Hope you're both well.

Follow me if you will.

Put up here before?

HENRY: No.

Had to close up the house in Belgrave Square.

Too big.

MAJOR: First-class place, this.

Wonderful cooking.

HENRY: Splendid.

I hear there's a fine lot of partridges

about in Norfolk this season.

Oh, yes...

Hello, Starr.

My lord.

Hello, Fred.

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

Yes, my lord.

We're all highly delighted

at her recovery.

And so am I.

Oh, Merriman,

bottle of wine in Mrs. Trotter's room,

if you please.

Very good, my lord.

Charlie.

You've come back, then.

Oh, I'm glad.

Of course I have.

This is my home.