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Here we are, Mr Carstone.

You'll find it rather quiet
in the long vacation.

I myself am going
down to the country.

An excellent opportunity for you,
though,

to familiarise
yourself with the. . .

Oh, Guppy will show you the ropes.
.Guppy!

Here's Mr Carstone.
You're to make him at home. . . Read,
Mr Carstone, hat's the best way.

Read and familiarise yourself.

Guppy.

Thank you, Mr Kenge,
for giving me this opportunity.

I shan't disappoint you.

This way, Mr Carstone.

Here we are. . . Anything
particular you wanted to see?

Well. . . D'you know,
I thought I might take a glance
through Jarndyce and Jarndyce. Hmm?

.Welcome to Lincolnshire! I'm sorry
we had to go the long way, ladies.

But I've resolved never to set foot
on Dedlock's land.

And nor will he set foot on mine
while I breathe a breath of life.

Are the Dedlocks down here
at the moment?

Sir Arrogant Numskull is here.

Laid up with the gout!
Serve him right.

My lady is expected daily, they say.

No wonder she delays. Whatever can
have induced that transcendent woman
to marry that effigy of a baronet

is an impenetrable mystery.
Still, there we are.

Are we permitted to venture into
Dedlock territory while we're here?

Oh, I lay no prohibition
on my guests.

And if you should happen to meet Sir
Arrogant Numskull, you may tell him

that Lawrence Boythorn is ready
to meet him in single combat

any time he chooses, with
any weapon he likes, to the death.

What's that, Esther?

Let me see.

Mr Woodcourt's flowers.

Don't say anything to Mr Jarndyce.
He would think it very foolish
of me. Why foolish?

I don't suppose we shall ever see
Mr Woodcourt again.
He has his way to make.

He's probably forgotten
all about us already. I doubt that
very much, Esther.

I think you like Mr Woodcourt
a great deal, don't you?

I did.

Nothing will come of it.
He's gone now. But not forever.

Think about it, Esther. He came all
the way to Bleak House to say goodbye
to you. And he left you flowers.

Very well. You won't think
about Mr Woodcourt,
and I won't think about Richard.

Here we are, Mr Carstone.

Is that it? That's some of it.

You have a good read.

Then, about 12 o'clock,
I was thinking we might stroll down
Old Street for a lobster and lettuce.

Food for thought, eh?
Right. Thank you, Mr Guppy.

Esther! What is it?

Only that you seem so very serious.

Is something troubling you?

No, nothing.

Nothing you would readily understand.
One day, perhaps.

So, how do you like it
here in Lincolnshire?

Very well.
But it is strange to be on holiday
with no duties to occupy me.

I find, with nothing else to do,
I have been thinking about myself.

I think you feel it very deeply,
Esther, that you never knew
your mother or your father.

But no man or woman worth a thought
would think any the worse of you for
that. Not everybody's as good as you.

And most people can't afford
to ignore worldly things.

Perhaps not, but you should know

that there are those
who value you very highly, whatever
the circumstances of your birth.

I know, and I'm grateful, truly.
But if someone were to a. . .

What I mean is, I would like
to be able to say who I am

and who my parents were.

I can only tell you
as much as I know myself.

But that I'll tell you gladly.

Nine years ago, I received
a letter from a woman I knew
who was living in seclusion.

It told me of a child, an orphan
girl, then twelve years old.

The writer had brought her up
in secrecy since her birth,

Had blotted out all trace of her
existence. The writer w. . .
The writer was my aunt

and I was the orphan child. Yes.

She asked me if I'd continue
what she had begun after her death.

She seemed to believe
it was your duty to do penance
for your mother's sin,

whatever it was -
and if it WAS a sin.

I told her that if I took you into
my care there would be no penance,

but that I'd do my best
to care for you and see you well
and happy, if I could.

And this
without knowing anything of me?

I had the means to do it
and no-one of my own to care for.

And. . .

It has turned out very well for me,
Esther.

I hope it has for you. Yes.

I wish I could know
who my mother was.

But you have been the best father
I could have wished for.

What is it?
Have I said something wrong?

Nothing. . .

.at all.

DRY CHUCKLE

So what's it to be, then,
young gentlemen? Ah, first,
let me introduce my colleague

Mr Richard Carstone.
He's quite a swell, you know.
One of the Wards in Jarndyce.

He'll be worth hundreds of thousands
one day. Better keep on his right
side. I certainly shall, Mr Guppy.

Very honoured to serve you, sir,
and if there's anything you fancy,

well, you just let me know. Yeah,
all right, Polly, draw it mild.
Two lobster and lettuce -

without the slugs this time - and
two pints of half-and-half will get
us started. Thank you, Mr Guppy.

Thank you, sir.

She's all right, Polly.
And you won't get a better lobster
and lettuce in London.

May I enquire as to your friends
Miss Ada Clare

and Miss Esther. . .er, Summerson?

Both well.
They're in Lincolnshire at present
with our guardian, Mr Jarndyce.

Oh, Lincolnshire.
At Chesney Wold perhaps?

Sir Leicester Dedlock's place?
I've visited there myself.
They showed me round. Very civil.

No, they're staying with a neighbour
of the Dedlocks. Mr Boythorn.

Lady Dedlock,
she's a very fine looking lady.

A beauty without peer. . .almost.

Is that so?
I say no more at present.

Miss Clare, now, she has
great expectations like yourself.

And what about Miss Summerson?
Does she stand to come into
a fortune too, when she's of age?

I'm not sure that's
any of your business, Guppy.

Oh, no offence meant.
Friendly enquiry.

She has the look of a lady
about her, to my eye, that's all.

Between you and me, Mr Carstone,

I think she has the face of an angel.

That's very poetic of you, Guppy.

There we are, gentlemen.
Oh, thank you, Polly.
Quick as you like with the lobster.

I AM poetic.

Not a lot know that.

Waiting upon His Lordship's
convenience once again.

Sir Arrogant Numskull.

O give thanks unto the Lord,
for his mercy endureth for ever. . .

for he satisfieth the empty soul.

Take an extreme case -
take the case of the slaves
on the American plantations.

I daresay they are worked hard.

I dare say they don't
altogether like it. But, you know,
they people the landscape for me.

They give it a poetry for me. And
perhaps that is one of the pleasanter
objects of their existence.

Skimpole, you're a damned fool.

Now, this is as far as I go.
Enemy territory.

Do you see? Numskull country.
DISTANT THUNDER RUMBLES

Do you know,
I think I might go back with you.
I fancy the weather's on the turn.

THUNDER RUMBLES

THUNDER BOOMS

THUNDER CRASHES

THEY GIGGLE

You're not frightened? Not at all.

IN MOCK EXASPERATION: Ada!

Your friend is exposing herself
to danger, I think.

I hope I did not startle you.

I took shelter here myself
a few minutes before you did.

I believe I have the pleasure
of addressing Mr Jarndyce?

I'm honoured that you should
remember me, Lady Dedlock.

I recognised you in church.

I am sorry that this little local
dispute of Sir Leicester's

makes it so difficult for me
to show you any attention here.
I quite understand.

I have sent for a carriage.
It should be here very soon.

I will have it sent back for you.
Your Ladyship is very kind.

This must be Miss Clare,
the ward in Jarndyce?

Very pretty.

And who is this?
Miss Esther Summerson.
I act as her guardian.

Has Miss Summerson lost
both her parents? Yes, my Lady.

You are fortunate in your guardian,
Miss Summerson.

Mr Jarndyce,
it seems a long time since we were
in the habit of meeting,

but I think you knew my sister
better than you knew me.

Yes, through my friend Boythorn.

We went our different ways.
We had little in common
even before we agreed to differ.

It should be regretted, I suppose.

But it could not be helped.

HOOFBEATS
Here is the carriage.

What, two of you?
You sent a message for an attendant.

I am your ladyship's maid,
not this one. I'm sorry, my Lady.
I thought you might've meant me.

I did mean you, child.
Put that shawl on me.

You may walk back
when the rain has cleared.

What? You tell me to walk?

I am your maid, not her.

Always you put her before me, this
little village girl, this pig-man's
daughter. You cannot do this to me.

I can do as I like, Hortense,
as you well know.
And now I say this to you,

you are no longer my maid.
You are dismissed.

Walk back to the house,
collect your things and go.

Come with me, child.

What do you look at?
You like what you see? !

Look at this, then.

Weary work, Mr Carstone?

It is, Guppy.

To tell you the truth,
I can't make head nor tail of it.

Perhaps the law's not the boy for
me after all. You picked a hard one
to start on, Mr Carstone.

See, from what I can make out,
it's not just that
there's more than one will,

it's that they was badly drawn up
in the first place.

So bad no-one knows what the old
fella meant by 'em. Now you tell me.

You was that set on it,
I couldn't stop ya.

Now, what's lacking 'ere is a nice
bit of hard, clear evidence.

If we could ferret that out,
we'd be in clover, Mr Carstone.

What sort of evidence? Well. . .

say the old chap made a later will.

"I hereby leave all my worldly goods
to Mr Carstone and Miss Clare, or
in the event of their prior demise,

"to their descendents
in the direct line".

That sort of evidence. You think
there might be one? You know Krook?
Miss Flite's landlord? That's him.

He's a funny old cove.

He knows more than he's telling
about Jarndyce, too.

Buys up all these documents even
though he can barely read a word,

and no-one knows what he's got there.

I, er, "cultivate" him, you know.

Often learn things to my advantage.

hmm, you might too. Guppy, what
on earth has Krook to do with me?

You haven't got a very enquiring
mind, have you, Mr Carstone?

You won't get far in the law
like that.

Krook's got an empty room, now that
Nemo, the law-writer, has died.

Do you know what I'd do if I was you?
I'd rent it, have a bit
of a root about in Krook's place.

Who knows what you might find?

Thank you for the advice, Guppy.

Up to you.

I'm off to Snagsby's,
pick up some copying.

You can mind the store,
Mr Carstone.

Mr Snagsby,
this is refreshment indeed.

And we need refreshment, my friends,
because we are mortal,

because we are sinful, because
we are of the earth, not of the air.

Can we fly, my friends?

We cannot.

And why can we not fly?

No wings? Indeed.

Then let us partake of the good
things which are set before us.
DOOR OPENS

Mr Snagsby, it's a policeman.
He's got the crossing-sweeper boy
with him.

He's asking for you, Mr Snagsby.

Oh. . . Perhaps you'll excuse
me for half a minute.

'Mr Snagsby, do you know this boy?'

Yes, I do know him, officer.

What's the matter, Jo? Loitering.
Turned out his pockets,
found this half-crown.

When questioned,
he said he had it from you, sir.

Quite right, Constable.
Then we finds two more.

Very strange
for a poor crossing-sweeper boy.
And how does he explain that?

I had it from a lady, Mr Snagsby.

A lady in a veil.
She said she was a servant,
but I don't think she was.

She wanted me to show her
where the law-writer lived,
and where they buried him.

She wanted to see the shop, too,
as well, Mr Snagsby. I took her
all around, showed her everything.

She gave me a sovereign,
and that's what's left of it.

You expect us to believe that,
do you? No, I don't expect nothing
at all. . . But it's true, Mr Snagsby.

I believe the boy is honest,
Constable.

All right, Mr Snagsby.
If I don't lock him up this time,
will you engage for his moving on?

Yes, Constable, I will.

Now, Jo, you know you must do it.

All right, Mr Snagsby, sir.
Here, catch hold of your money.

Now, the sooner you're five mile
off, the better for all parties.
I shall see him on his way, sir.

Will you take a cup of tea,
Mr Guppy? Mmm.

Kenge and Carboys. I knew them
very well at one time.

Was you a party in anything, ma'am?
Not exactly, Mr Guppy. I once worked
for a lady named Miss Barbary.

Mr Kenge often used to visit. It was
in connection with a young girl who
lived there, named Esther Summerson.

Summerson?

You know Miss Esther Summerson? I
knew her as a child, and there was
no "Miss Summerson" about it then.

It was "Esther do this" and "Esther
do that", and she was made to do it.

Anyway, as I recall,

her real name was Esther Hawdon.
Or so Miss Barbary once told me.

Is that so?

SHOP BELL TINKLES

WOOD CREAKS

STAIR CREAKS
CAT SNARLS

Mr Guppy. . .

of Kenge's.

What's he want?

Little present, Mr Krook.

Hey, this ain't the fourteen-penny.
This is the eighteen-penny.

Thought you might fancy it
for a change.

I do.

Take a drop yourself?

I will, Mr Krook. Thank you.

HOARSE VOICE: That's very fine.

You're a man for information, Krook.
I am.

I heard a good one today.

About a lady who wanted to know
all about your dead lodger,
the law-writer.

Where he lived and how he died.

She give the crossing-sweeper boy
a sov to show her round.

Did she come here, Krook?

No.

You ever hear of the name Barbary,
Mr Krook?

Barbary? Maybe.

In connection
with Miss Esther Summerson?

Summerson?

Can't say I have, no.

See, I've got an inkling
they're all connected up somehow.

Ah, yes?

Very good, this, Mr Guppy.

Mind you, it ain't nothing
to the two-and-sixpenny.

PURRY GROWL

A woman in a veil( !)
A LADY in a veil, the boy said.

And what would a boy like that know?

He was most particular,
Mr Tulkinghorn.
I thought you would wish to know.

Yes.

Thank you, Mr Snagsby.

Thank you. . .Ah, yes, to be sure.

Good day, Mr Tulkinghorn.

This man Nemo, the dead law-writer.

There's some mystery here. Let's see
what we can find out about him.

And perhaps you could ask
Inspector Bucket to call.

I think I need to see
that boy again.

Miss Summerson!
There's a young woman to see you.

Mademoiselle. I 'ave taken
a great liberty in coming here.

How can I help you? Mademoiselle,
you were present
when my lady dismissed me.

She's so very high
and I was too high for her.

All that is done.

Mademoiselle, I have come to
offer myself to be your domestique.

Oh.

I'm sorry. . .
Please, do not dismiss me so soon.

But, you see, I don't keep a maid.
I never have. For one thing,
I couldn't afford one.

Then I will serve you
for nothing but my food.

And I will serve you well.
You don't know how well.

I will do anything you ask, and more.

Mademoiselle Hortense, I am sorry.
I wish I could help you,
but it's not in my power to.

I couldn't pay you a proper wage,
and it would be wrong
to let you work for nothing.

I'm sure you will find
a more suitable position.

I thank you most humbly
for receiving me, mademoiselle.

Will you allow me to kiss your hand?

Adieu, mademoiselle.

You seem agitated, Snagsby.

No need for that. Drink your wine.

Very fine wine, Mr Tulkinghorn.

Mmm, it is a rare wine now.

It is 50 years old.

I wouldn't want anything to happen
to the boy, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Nothing will. Oh, dear me.

I wasn't aware there was
anyone else present.

This is Mr Bucket, Snagsby.

Mr Bucket's a detective officer.

No harm will come to the boy,
Mr Snagsby.

All we want you for is to help us
find him, and then we want to put a
question or two to him, that's all.

No harm will come to him?

Not a bit of harm.

Well, then, Mr Tulkinghorn,
if that's the case. . .

Here's your hat, Mr Snagsby.
And if you're ready, I am.

Tom-All-Alone's, you say.

I believe that's where he finds
shelter, yes, Mr Bucket.

Ever been there? Me? No, never.

You won't like it.

It's the last resort, Mr Snagsby,
of them as has no choice.

Evenin', gents! And what's
your business, young lady(? )

Dear me!

It's a whole different world,
Mr Snagsby.

We'll turn down here, short-cut.

They've been going down
with the smallpox here,
like sheep with the rot, poor devils.

Here we are.

Boy name of Jo.

Is he here tonight?

Here, Mister.

Mister. . .

I saw him. He was with her.

Thank you, kindly.

Mr Snagsby.

Who have we got here, then?
We ain't done nothing wrong, sir.

Didn't say you had. You're not
from here. No, sir. St Albans.

Brickmakers? Come up on the tramp?

Yes, sir. They said there was some
work on the potteries by the
Hippodrome, but there wasn't none.

We might as well've stayed
where we was.

Jenny! Come as quick as I could.

No need to be frightened, Jo.

All you have to do is stand still
and look and listen,

and tell us what you see.

I don't see nothing, sir. Wait.

That's her. Who? The lady.