- She's here. - She's here?
Whoa!
We had a bit of a drama here on Monday.
The little boy had to have his leg amputated.
Does she know about Briggs?
He won't be able to collect the six monthly rents.
Is it wise to collect the rents?
Why shouldn't I collect my rents?
Because it's a man's job.
- I didn't know Miss Lister was back. - Very much so, ma'am.
Have you ever met her, Ann?
Once. Years ago.
- We should pay her a visit. - I'd like that.
Miss Walker, I've heard so much about you lately.
What do you know about coal?
Well, I know you have a lot of it.
The Rawsons, they don't always play by the rules.
Wouldn't surprise me
if they were stealing it off you already.
Miss Lister to see you, Miss Walker.
- Miss Lister. - Miss Walker.
I was just passing.
Please, come in.
Sit down.
Do you know, I haven't been in this room for years.
- It was after my mother died. You visited us. - Was it?
M... my mother died, um, quite suddenly after my father.
I don't know if you remember.
Yes, you... you came to tea...
for tea with me and my sister, Elizabeth.
We walked in the garden.
You... you probably had no idea at the time,
but you made my whole world a little bit brighter that day.
I remember it very distinctly;
very fondly.
I do remember it.
I remember everything.
Well, do you remember me running after you?
Remind me?
I was so embarrassed about it afterwards.
I'm quite glad you don't remember.
It was on the Lightcliffe Road, and I spotted you,
and I raced after you to invite you to tea.
Afterwards, I thought...
Oh, how silly and foolish
I must have seemed to you.
Now you've said it, I only remember thinking
how animated you looked.
Shall I sit here?
- Synced and corrected by Firefly & chamallow- - www.addic7ed.com -
You must miss your sister.
Yes, I do.
She writes as often as she can,
but she has three little ones now.
- Three? - So...
of course, she's very busy.
Motherhood:
- What a delight. - Mm.
I'm very fond of children, but...
I'm not sure that I'd want to...
What?
Give birth.
No.
No, it's not something I've ever felt compelled to do.
I dissected a baby once.
Sorry?
In Paris.
- It was dead, obviously. - Oh.
This was four years ago.
I was... I am fascinated
by the science of Georges Cuvier...
the anatomist and paleontologist?
I couldn't attend university officially being the wrong sex,
so he gave me private instruction
in my attic apartment on the Left Bank.
_
I've always been fascinated by the human body,
how it works,
especially the brain.
The brain is the most extraordinary organ.
And when you see one, it's just meat,
offal like the rest of our corporeal form.
And yet, what the brain does in one day,
in one hour, in one second...
right now.
Everything you see, hear, think, feel, desire
in any one moment is all processed and retained
in this one lump of stuff inside the skull...
your skull, my skull.
You think about it.
Isn't it exciting that we can think at all?
The brain of even the smallest animal
is ridiculously sophisticated, but the human brain...
We have language.
We invent. We analyze.
We build cathedrals and cities and society.
We write music and poetry.
We fall in love.
Aren't we lucky to be alive...
to have life?
Isn't every tiny moment an inexplicable delight,
packed with potential?
- How do? - Um, oui.
Is, um, everything all right?
Think she'd had the idea from somebody
that Shibden was quite a bit grander than it is.
I don't think she'd understood that she'd be expected
to turn her hand to a bit of all sorts.
And the other thing.
What other thing?
- What, your Joe not told you? - What?
Well, I've been told not to say owt.
- Pregnant. - Eh?
George Playforth's.
Does Miss Lister know?
Would she be standing there ironing everybody's smalls
if Miss Lister knew?
Well, so...
what... what's she gonna do?
She swallowed a load of gin.
Goodness knows where she got it from.
It didn't work.
Has she not got any money to get back to her family with?
They're in Rouen.
Well, tell Miss Marian.
I'm not telling anybody anything.
George's?
She reckons he said he'd marry her
as soon as they got back here.
Silly...
poor kid.
Aye, well...
What'll happen to her?
She needs to find a kind fella
with a Christian heart who will pretend it's his.
Only how?
And why would anyone?
No, I had no idea.
Oh, he's awful. I thought you did.
- When? - When you got rid of him.
When you sent him outside to look at your horse.
Well,
yes, I could see he was irritating you.
He's never touched me, as such.
It's just the way he looks where he shouldn't.
Oh, and the last time he was here, he was so close
I could feel him breathing on me.
Well, then you don't send for him anymore.
You send for Dr. Day or Mr. Sunderland.
Oh, then there'd be the whole inquest into why.
From who?
The tribe.
My aunt,
Edwards, Priestleys,
the Rawsons, the whole lot of them.
I didn't know you were related to the Rawsons.
My family's been very adept
at strategic marriages over the years.
It's yet another reason
why I'm such a disappointment to everyone.
- Are you? - My, uh...
I think so, yes.
And, of course, they all have opinions,
even when I barely see any of them.
Miss Walker.
You are an intelligent...
29?
29-year-old woman of substantial...
seriously substantial independent means.
Which doctor you choose to patronize
- is a matter for yourself... - Yes.
And yourself alone.
You're right, but...
all I was going to say is that...
when one has been an...
invalid...
or at least seen as one by the whole family
for so long, it's...
it's hard to shake off some people's idea that
they have the right to...
interfere in one's life.
An invalid. How?
You don't look very invalid to me.
Good Lord.
I haven't been here four hours.
How did that happen?
There's nothing wrong with her.
Can I call again tomorrow?
Really?
At least, nothing that a little spice
of matrimony wouldn't cure.
All she needs to do now
is realize that the nature of what she feels for me...
is love.
Miss Lister!
Good afternoon, ma'am.
I... I called at the hall.
Twice.
No one seemed to know where you were.
So, coal.
Uh, James Holt is the man to talk to.
Very knowledgeable. Very interesting, actually.
What is he?
Oh, he's a local coal agent, ma'am.
So he knows all the pits in the area
and the markets, as well.
He, uh... he says you'd no doubt do very well
if you reopened the old Listerwick pit,
as, uh, suggested,
or, indeed, sunk a new one higher up.
But, uh, he says you should understand
that it's an expensive business,
time-consuming, and there are alternatives.
Now, ma'am,
since I was approached
by Mr. Washington on your behalf,
I have been doing a bit of asking around,
discreetly.
I assumed you wouldn't mind.
And Mr. Hinscliffe... the coal merchant...
would be very keen to offer you
100 pound an acre for your coal.
But, this is the thing:
at present, he only wants the one acre down at Mytholm.
Now, really,
if the coal were mine,
I'd be wanting nearer 200 an acre,
and the Rawsons
are in a position to pay that.
I understand you don't want to do business
with the Rawsons, ma'am, and...
Mr. Washington thinks they're stealing my coal.
I think they very probably are,
given that your beds abut directly onto theirs.
But how do you prove it?
I apply to the Lord Chancellor for an order
to go down into the Rawsons' works.
And by the time you got it,
they'd have turned the water against you
and flooded your coal, and nobody'd be able
to get down there to prove anything one way or the other.
Water is the enemy, ma'am, in a mine.
Controlling the flow is half the job.
And the rivalry is bitter and lawless,
and people will use the water against each other.
The object would be to surprise them on the day...
Do you think that Christopher Rawson
wouldn't get wind of that before then?
He's a justice of the peace. He's a magistrate.
He's Lord Lieutenant of the county.
I'll not be bullied on my own land.
Not by anyone, above ground or under it.
No, of course not, but...
If you'll give Mr. Holt a moment, Miss Lister,
he has a suggestion.
I was saying, the Rawsons are in a position
to offer more than Hinscliffe,
which, if they think you are going to sell to him,
they'd have to.
Wouldn't they?
Otherwise they'd be worried that he'd get down there
and see what he's paid for already taken.
They don't know that he only wants that one acre
to access this other bed.
And what'd be to stop the Rawsons turning this water
on Hinscliffe if that's what they're capable of,
and I'd sold to him and not to them?
Oh, I don't think it would get that far.
They want your coal,
even if they have to pay for it fairly.
And, do you see,
that if this was negotiated skillfully,
it'd be a way of upping the price.
So they'd end up paying for what they've already stolen.
I'd like a breakdown of the Rawsons' costs.
How much coal they get from an acre
and how much they can sell it for in Halifax.
Can you do that for me?
Mr. Rawson.
Welly.
Afternoon.
Not in the gig again today, sir?
No, not, as you see,
nor any other day.
I've sent it back to the manufacturer
in Liverpool per canal.
It rattled and shook like the devil had a hold of it.
- The thing was a death trap. - Oh, dear.
And overpriced.
And you spoke so highly of it just after you got it, sir.
No, I didn't.
Your brother's here, sir.
Afternoon, Christopher.
Jeremiah.
- How are you? - Busy.
I'll be brief. Can I?
What's up?
You all right?
What can I do for you?
Miss Lister is back.
- Did you know? - She was in here two weeks since,
depositing her rents.
Collected her own rents.
And she drove the high-flier over from Wibsey,
someone was telling me. You couldn't invent it, could you?
Right, well, I've got wind of a rumor that Holt's been
talking to another company on her behalf
over her signing a lease over her coal.
I need to go and talk to her, Christopher.
I need to be in a position to offer her more,
more than whatever this other one's offering,
because if I don't, if it's true,
then whoever it is is gonna go down there
and find out what we've been doing.
What you've been doing.
Well, only because you told me to!
You know, it's never sat comfortably with me,
even when she wasn't here and didn't seem
to be doing anything with her coal.
We ought to do the proper thing and make her an offer.
And then we can mine the stuff legally and...
Cover up any trespass
that might have accidentally occurred.
It was accidental.
To start with, yes, perhaps.
Don't let her run rings around you over a price.
Because she will.
Afternoon, Hardcastle.
Oh, good afternoon, Miss Lister.
- Thomas. - Miss Lister.
- This yours? - Well, yeah.
Oh, cart.
Yeah, it were me father's, and his father before him.
Seen a fair few years of work,
but we keep fettling it, and it keeps on going.
And how is your other son?
Doctor said he'll be all right.
But he's more in himself.
He's not spoke since it happened.
How are things at home, Thomas?
All right, ma'am.
- Your wife in? - Aye, she is.
Hello.
We're fettling the cart.
Good.
Excellent. You carry on.
Alice, Miss Lister.
Mrs. Hardcastle, how are you?
Uh, um...
Good.
- How are you settling in? - Oh, very well, thank you.
A... all things considered.
We're... we're very suited with the house.
- Is this Henry? - Uh, yes, ma'am.
And there's no infection, I'm told.
He's... he's...
been very lucky, he's healing very well.
Very good of you, ma'am.
To pay for Dr. Kenny.
It was my sister who paid for Dr. Kenny,
but yes, it was very kind of her.
Still nothing more about the man in the gig?
Trouble is, ma'am, nobody saw him.
Someone must have seen something.
I went to speak to the constable,
and he said without information we can't do owt.
You can't go to a magistrate without information.
Only a certain kind of person would have the money
to drive a gig like that, so that narrows down the field.
Has anyone spoken to Miss Walker's groom?
Because surely if he was facing the gig as it was approaching
he was in the best position to see something.
I don't... well, we haven't, no.
What do you think, Henry?
Are you a man?
Well, that's a question.
And you are not the first person to ask it.
I was in Paris once,
dressed extremely well, I thought,
in silk and ribbons, ringlets in my hair.
Very gay, very ladylike.
And even then, someone mistook me for a...
Mm.
So, no, I am not a man.
I'm a lady. A woman.
I'm a lady woman.
I'm a woman.
Now, who's this?
Jerry Greenwood.
He's an infantryman in the Duke of Yorks.
My brother was in the 84th Yorks and Lancs.
He was an ensign.
I taught him how to shoot straight,
and he taught me how to fight with a sword.
He drowned in a river
in Ireland 18 years ago.
Just turned 20.
Jerry's 19.
Well, then, let's hope he fares better
than my poor Sam did.
Can you really fight with a sword?
After a fashion.
I've never been called upon to do it,
but you never know the day.
Right.
I shall go and talk to this groom
next time I'm at Crow Nest,
and before then, I shall go and visit Mr. Rawson
in his capacity as magistrate and see what he has to say.
Chin up.
Thank you.
Oh.
Oh, no, that's gone in.
Oh.
I'm going to make some improvements to the estate.
I thought I'd run them past you, Father,
so you know what's going on.
In case I might have an opinion?
So... yes.
So I'm going to construct an ornamental walk
from the garden gate down the Hall Ing
down the side of Calf Croft, and into Lower Brook Ing.
- Why? - Then at the top of Lower Brook Ing...
because it will look elegant, Marian...
I'm going to build an ornamental moss house,
or a chaumiere, just a small one.
- What for? - A what?
A chaumiere. Like a summer house.
- Like an ornament... - Like a shed.
Then, at the same time,
I'm going to put up all of the hedges
in all of the fields below the hall.
- Why, though? - Really?
Yes, to create more of a park.
A park land.
Because, Marian, I'm sick of the place looking like an old farm.
It is an old farm.
Shibden Hall...
is the oldest house in Halifax.
It dates back, as you know,
to the reign of Henry V and Agincourt.
It's where the first manorial courts in Halifax were held.
It is not, and never has been, a farm.
And it saddens me
deeply
that people might look at it like that,
so I would thank you very much not to refer to it as such.
We are Listers.
And Shibden Hall...
is our ancestral home.
And it should always reflect the quiet dignity
of our ancient lineage.
£1,000.
I offered to give him 500,
but he's still asking to borrow 1,000 more.
And why does your cousin Atkinson want £1,000 more?
Business? An... an investment?
I don't know, it's rather vague.
It's a lot of money to be vague about to the lender.
Has he named the terms on which he'll pay you back?
Has he said when he expects to pay you back?
- Uh... - Has he offered to pay interest?
No, nothing like that.
So these aunts and uncles and cousins
protect you from fortune hunters
and gold diggers out in the world,
but not the ones inside your own family.
What you need, Miss Walker...
is a well-worded letter.
You see, it would have taken me three weeks
to compose a letter...
a firm, clear letter like this,
what with, oh, tying myself up in knots trying not to offend.
And then I'd have been so anxious about
sending the thing, I'd probably have ended up
throwing it in the wastepaper basket
and just lending him the money anyway...
You're a very kind, good-natured person...
Yes, and, no doubt, never see it back.
Who just needs a little more self-confidence.
If he writes you again, you tell me,
and I'll dictate something else.
Or perhaps now maybe you'll have the confidence
to compose something yourself.
It is confidence, isn't it?
I never had any.
You see, my aunt at Cliffhill, she suggested
and arranged this holiday,
this excursion I'm going on with my cousin Catherine...
- Which holiday? - The week after next.
To the Lake District.
And don't misunderstand me,
I'm... I'm very fond of Catherine.
I mean, she's my best friend.
She gave me that paper knife.
How long are you going for?
Three weeks.
And, you see, this is the thing:
three weeks is a long time to be alone with someone,
even someone that you're fond of.
And, you know, I... I might...
What,
get fed up with her?
Which one is Catherine?
Um, I'm more concerned that she might get fed up with me.
Mm.
She's Mr. Stansfield Rawson's eldest daughter.
Do you have to go for the whole three weeks?
Well, it's all been organized and arranged.
It's not really something...
Uh, good Lord. I'm so sorry.
Don't worry! You're hurt, you're bleeding!
It's nothing I can mend this.
Doesn't matter. Here.
- I can replace it. - If you like.
- Are you all right? - I don't know what with.
It doesn't matter.
Because, of course, it would never have the same sentimental value,
whatever I replaced it with,
if she's such a dear friend.
Oh, I...
I think it would.
Let me.
Would you like to come to Switzerland with me?
In the spring.
I can't go any sooner with my aunt, with her leg.
She has ulcers.
And Shibden... I'm planning some renovations
which I must oversee or they won't be done properly.
But I'd like to be in Rome at Easter for the carnival.
It's glorious.
Switzerland in the spring, and then on to Rome at Easter.
I've never been abroad.
Well, then,
you haven't lived.
Elizabeth and I... my sister, you know...
we did once talk about traveling.
I see I must be uncommonly and fastidiously delicate
in leading her into my own ways.
Oh...
But I believe I shall succeed with her.
How do?
Josephine and Fanny are laying like fun.
I thought you might like a few.
- Ooh, lovely. - And, uh...
The garden's beautiful out front.
I thought this little selection
might bring some cheer to the table.
Can you fill a jug with water?
Eau. D'leau?
Yeah, so, the thing is,
can you tell Eugénie...
thing is, I think she don't like me.
Because, thing is,
when we first met at coaching inn...
because Miss Lister were in such a bad mood,
and I had to lug the imperial on the handcart up the hill in the heat.
She might have got the idea that I'm unpleasant
and unhelpful and short-tempered,
which I'm not, as a rule.
I think you'll agree.
Uh, so, if you could explain that I'm sorry...
if we got off on a wrong footing.
I just... given the situation she's in.
I thought she's enough on
without thinking I'm some sort of ogre.
Uh...
Sorry.
Um, rude. Grossier.
In Halifax.
Merci.
She says, "Thank you."
You'll have to teach me a bit of French,
and then, uh, I can talk to her.
Oui.
- Sorry? - Oui.
- It means "yes." - Oui.
Are you sure?
What's "no," then?
Um, pocket holes?
They all have them.
I think it's to take them to the theater.
Well, a certain sort of theater.
What?
- Pocket holes? - Yes, sewn in specially.
What for?
Well, I did wonder for a long time,
and then I asked Mrs. Barlow,
this English lady I'd met.
And she...
I can't tell you. It's too outrageous.
Tell me, tell me! Go on, tell me!
You... you can't hint at something so intriguing
and then not say it.
Well, it's very French.
Only the French. Only in France.
No, only in Paris.
Well...
uh, apparently...
it's so...
a man...
might pleasure himself...
Without drawing attention to himself.
Oh, that...
Oh, you've gone red.
I shouldn't have told you.
That's not true!
Of course it's true. It's Paris!
That's why people go there!
Not me, obviously.
I just went there to study anatomy.
Miss Lister!
Have you ever kissed anyone?
No.
Perhaps you wouldn't tell me if you had.
Have you?
I asked you.
Good Lord,
how did we get onto that?
Well, have you never wanted to?
Only to see what it was like.
Who?
Have you?
Wanted to?
Yes.
Well, who? When?
Every time I come here.
What do you mean?
Surely you know what I mean.
And I think you feel the same way about me.
What?
I think you're a little bit in love with me.
I...
Are you all right?
I, um...
Have I overstepped the mark?
No.
- I've offended you. - No.
I've embarrassed you.
No, no, no.
I have.
Would you like me to go?
No.
Well, then...
have I misread it?
No, I...
I... I do have...
very warm and...
tender feelings for you.
I don't know, I...
it's... oh, Lord.
- I'll come back tomorrow. - Um...
I'll in a thousand miseries between now and then
thinking that I've overstepped the mark
or that I've horrified you or that you despise me.
I could never despise you, Anne.
Please don't ever imagine that, not for a second.
I'm sorry.
No, I'm sorry.
You don't need to be frightened.
Well, I think, by and by,
she'll fall into my view of things admirably,
now that she's realized that you can fall in love
with another woman.
Well, me.
And I really do believe that if she's fond enough of me
and manageable...
Might we not be happy?
It was since your visit,
since you and Mr. Priestley brought her to Shipton.
Oh, how delightful.
I returned the visit, and I don't know how it is
but we seem to get on so very nicely together.
- That's so kind of you. - Is it?
Well, you know, she hasn't been well.
Yes. How?
Well, she has this problem...
this weakness in her spine.
I think it's menstrual.
And she gets anxious
and frets about the oddest things.
She always seems to think people are after her money.
- Even people in her own family. - But they are.
- Her cousin Atkinson. - Oh, him.
Yes, but him aside, she alienates people.
People who care about her.
And then the ones that really are after her money, she...
Well, she's naive.
What she really needs is a good friend,
someone slightly older and more worldly wise
than Catherine Rawson;
someone who can guide her on a steady path
without her feeling us old folk are constantly interfering.
And perhaps she's found one.
Argus.
Jeramiah Rawson was here this afternoon
to see you about the coal.
You missed him.
- You're playing with fire. - Good.
Dinner in half an hour!
And if we could not have muddy boots in the dining room again,
that would be splendid
for the servants
who have to beat the carpets
and keep everything clean!
I've put your post on your desk!
Thank you, Marian.
Donald's asked me to marry him.
I shan't say no.
You're too old for this.
Ah.
Thank you.
Now, then.
How would you all feel about it
if I got married again?
Why is that...
Why is that funny, Charlotte?
- Well, who to? - No one.
I'm just... I'm just asking, in theory, how you'd feel.
- Who'd have you, Father? - Oh, that's nice.
Yes, very comical. Thank you, Hannah.
- Would she boss us? - She'd take you in hand.
Which, by the look on you, is what you need.
Is she pretty?
Does she have a face like a bust shoe?
You...
You may be surprised one day, lady.
I'd like to see Mr. Rawson.
- Ah, Miss Lister. - Yes, good morning.
What may we do for you today?
Did you hear about the accident
above the hall a few weeks ago?
Seven-year-old boy, son of one of my tenants,
lost a leg, and above the knee, too.
I'd like to know what the constable is doing about it.
And I believe you wanted to talk to me about my coals, too.
In the absence of any evidence,
there's very little the constable can do.
I have spoken to him about it.
And it's my brother Jeremiah
you need to speak to about the coal.
I tend not to get my hands dirty.
I'm surprised you do, Miss Lister.
Is it not the constable's job to gather evidence?
Well, he's a very busy man.
And strictly speaking,
his jurisdiction is the town itself.
So I must gather my own evidence.
Well, that's one option,
if you've time.
They're good people,
and they're my people,
and I look after my tenants.
The boy will be very limited, what work he'll do on the farm.
You realize the fellow probably dwells
in another part of the county entirely?
Surely only somebody unfamiliar with Halifax
would drive so recklessly along that road.
You'd never trace him.
You know a lot about it.
Only what old Miss Walker told my mother.
Of course.
How lucky your cousin and her aunt
weren't damaged in it, too.
I'm surprised, for their sake, you're not more interested.
Oh, I am interested.
And if I hear anything significant,
I'll let you know.
Tell your brother I was looking for him, would you?
If he wants to make an appointment with me,
I shall endeavor to be in next time.
If I know when he's coming.
Of course.
- How many bonnets are you packing? - Three.
I've got seven.
Is that too many?
I can leave some here if it's too many.
- Are you taking a parasol? - I am.
Do you think we'll need them?
I might buy a new one, actually, when we get there.
I think we'll need them. I hope we do.
Which books are you taking?
Oh, um, Miss Lister's recommended
and leant me several.
You've talked about nothing but Miss Lister since I got here.
Have I?
You do know what people say about her, don't you?
What?
What do people say about her?
That she can't be trusted
in the company of other women.
- Who says that? - People.
Well, what do you mean?
- What does she do to them? - I don't know.
- Well, does she bite them? - I don't know.
No, come on, Catherine.
You can't say something like that and then not justify it.
What does she do to them that means she can't be trusted around them?
I'm just telling you what I've heard.
- From whom? - People.
- What people? - Just people.
Well...
it all sounds rather vague
and ill-mannered.
Why do you think people say things like that?
Well, apparently she's a...
she's a bit like a man.
No.
No, I'll tell you why they say it.
Because she's unusual
and singular and clever,
and because she doesn't conform to the way people think
a woman should look or think or be.
That's why.
I... I don't know, but apparently she's very odd.
Well, you've never even met her.
I'm not entirely sure I'd want to.
Miss Lister is one of the nicest, kindest,
most clever and interesting people
I have ever met, so you can tell that to your people.
And then perhaps you should meet her,
make up your own mind.
You probably will.
She'll probably call by before we leave
to wish us well and tell us
what all the most interesting places to visit are.
She's very good at things like that.
So she's never tried to...
To...
To touch you or anything?
Don't be absurd.
Are you taking your drawing things and your watercolors?
Yes, of course.
Good.
I just got a new set, actually.
I'm very excited to start using it.
It's got a yellow in it that... it's sort of a bit more...
Oh, here she is.
- Miss Lister. - Mr. Rawson.
Sorry I kept you waiting. Not at all.
So many jobs on hand around the estate,
and I do like to keep an eye on the men.
What can I do for you?
I understand you're leasing out your coal,
and if that is the case, my brother and I would like
to ask you how much you'd take for it.
- What will you offer? - Oh.
You must set the price, madam.
- Per acre? - Yes, that would be...
226 pounds, 17 shillings, and 6 pence.
- S... sorry? - Per acre.
That's...
That's ridiculous.
Mm, it isn't.
I asked Mr. Holt, the coal agent.
He advised me it was worth 200 an acre.
Why, even that's pretty steep.
I asked him to calculate how much it costs you
to get your coal and then how much it sold for,
which he did.
But I think he got his calculations wrong.
Either that, or he was trying to dupe me.
I think he underestimated me, Mr. Rawson,
with me being the gentler sex,
which I know is something you and your brother won't do.
The price you have named is, with respect...
Ridiculous? Hmm, it isn't.
Let me explain why.
You sell your coal down in Halifax
at eight pence per coal.
It's actually seven pence.
I asked a number of people who buy it from you.
- No one said seven pence. - Some we sell at eight pence, yes.
So I'm reliably informed that the cost of getting
and hurrying to the surface 20 corves of coal
is six shillings.
That's 72 pence divided by 20,
and, well, that's thruppence ha'penny per corve,
which means you make four-pence ha'penny clear gain per corve.
Now, let's times that by five,
and we have one shilling, tenpence ha'penny...
or 22 pence... per square yard.
4,840 square yards in an acre times 22,
and your clear gain
is 453 pounds and 15 shillings
per acre.
Now, if the getter and the proprietor
were to share their profits equally...
which, again, I'm told is the custom...
that divides into 226 pounds, 17 shillings, and 6 pence.
We never make that kind of profit, Miss Lister.
Well, then, I suggest you look narrowly into it,
because I could.
What you should know, Mr. Rawson, is that I'm...
What's the word, Marian?
- Uh, I... - "Indifferent." Thank you.
I'm indifferent about leasing my coals because...
Shibden is rich in coal, madam.
You'd be ill-advised not to do anything with it.
I'm indifferent about leasing my coals, Mr. Rawson,
because if I don't get my price,
I shall sink my own pits.
Well, that... that would...
Well, open a new one at the top of the hill
and then reopen Listerwick at the bottom, down at Mytholm.
That would be an incredibly...
expensive undertaking.
Mm, in the short term, maybe.
In all seriousness, Miss Lister,
150 pound per acre would be much nearer the mark.
I think I've explained to you
as simply as I can why it isn't.
226 pounds, 17 shillings, and 6 pence,
Mr. Rawson, is what I shall take for my coal per acre,
in all seriousness,
and I shall offer it to the other party
at the same price.
Well, I should have to speak to my brother
before I offered you anything resembling that figure.
Of course.
Was there anything else?
I knew she'd run rings round you.
Yes, well, maybe you should have come with me.
It'd have made no difference anyhow.
She keeps herself very well informed.
I need to keep working those beds, Christopher.
I can't stop production. I have contracts to fulfill.
I used to know her, socially,
years ago, when she first started coming to Halifax.
Has she not always lived here?
No, no, no.
They're from East Yorkshire, her side of the family.
Poor relations.
She adopted...
her Uncle James and Aunt Anne up at Shibden when she was...
16?
Younger? 15?
They couldn't cope with her at home,
so she came to live here.
- "Couldn't cope" how? - I'm not sure.
Bit of an handful, I imagine.
She was at the Manor School in York,
only she'd been expelled.
Never knew what for.
I mean, I could guess.
- Is that true? - Oh, yes.
She likes the ladies,
does Miss Lister.
I think she's bluffing.
Nobody'd pay 226 pounds an acre.
And she'll not sink her own pit.
She can't afford to, not without borrowing money. Big money.
And anyway, she never stays around here
any longer than she has to.
I think her tastes have become rather more refined and exotic
than anything she could pick up in Halifax.
And she'll not shit on her own doorstep.
She's too clever. She knows there'd be repercussions.
I wonder if we shouldn't just...
gird our loins
and bide our time...
and see what happens.
- This your sister? - Mm-hmm.
You're very good.
These are very good.
Maybe one day you could paint me.
I'd love to paint you.
Oh.
What?
Before you set off, I have something for you to wear.
What is it? You shouldn't have.
Oh...
I bought it in Venice two years ago.
Look, it's a little gondola.
Oh...
Not as useful as a paper knife, but...
It's beautiful, Anne.
I wish I wasn't going.
I always like the idea of travel, but then...
you know, my brother died in Naples.
You are not going to die in the Lake District.
Quite the opposite.
It's going to make you feel alive.
Here.
Wear it always.
And then...
when you think of me...
you'll feel perfectly safe.
I'll miss you.
I wish you could come with us.
I've been invited to a wedding in London.
I don't want to go.
I told my aunt I'm not going, but...
I'm worried it'll look poor if I didn't turn up.
A lot of my London friends are going, and...
I'd hate them to think ill of me.
Why don't you want to go?
It's complicated.
I imagine if you didn't go
all of your friends would be very disappointed.
Sometimes when I've tried
to avoid doing something or going somewhere
but then had to do it anyway,
I've often come away feeling like it's been
one of the best days I've ever had.
So maybe, if you went,
the thing that seems complicated might
sort itself out.
Are you ready to let... sorry, Miss Lister.
Are you ready to let James take your trunk downstairs?
It'll be dark before we get to Manchester
if we don't leave within the next quarter of an hour.
Yes, thank you, James.
Think of me...
when you get to Wastwater.
It's so tranquil, it's so sublime.
We will.
Well, then, I'd better be off.
I have a man to see at 3:00.
- Have fun. - We will.
- Miss Rawson. - Miss Lister.
See?
How much?
226 pounds, 17 shillings, and 6 pence.
Oof, steep for the one acre.
It's what it's worth, Mr. Hinscliffe.
I only want it for the Listerwick shaft
so I can have access to this other bed I've leased.
Miss Lister understands that.
Would you take any less, ma'am?
Well, if I can't get access,
I shall have to sink me own sh... shaft,
and it'd be barely worth the cost of...
Well, you've heard Miss Lister's price.
Perhaps you'd like a day or two to think about it.
No, no.
Miss... Miss Lister, ma'am...
You think because I'm a woman, I'll be persuaded to take less?
Would you pull that face and put on that voice
and ask a man to take a lesser price, hmm?
No, course you wouldn't.
So don't ask me.
226 pounds and how much?
17 shillings and 6 pence.
I can get a banker's draft to you first thing in the morning.
- No, don't do that. - S... sorry?
The other party has first refusal,
so before I accept your offer
I'm obliged to see if they'd like to better it.
- Who is the other party? - That's my business.
You do know the Rawsons are stealing your coal, don't you?
My men heard their men in your upper bed.
You can't loosen coal without making noise.
And it couldn't be anyone else.
Not there.
As I say, I gave the other party my word
that I'd let them know before I accepted any other offers.
Was there anything else?
No.
Mr. Hinscliffe is leaving.
Thank you.
I'll write a note to the other party
informing that we've been offered our price,
and if they could advise me at their earliest convenience
how they wish to proceed, etcetera.
But in the meantime...
Could you ask Holt to look into how much
it really would cost me to sink my own pit
at the top of the hill and reopen Listerwick myself?
Certainly, ma'am.
Well done.
- Eugénie! - Oh!
Eugénie... _
We're going to London.
Aunt.
How are you feeling?
Oh...
I've decided...
That it might look rather poor if I didn't attend the wedding.
Lady Stuart might put me up in Richmond,
and I could be back by next Friday.
What do you think? Is that all right?
Of course.
Eugénie's packing.
We'll walk down to Halifax, get the high flyer to Leeds.
We could be there by Wednesday night.
And Marian's here.
Dearly beloved,
we are gathered together here in the sight of God
and in the face of this congregation
to join together this man and this woman
in holy matrimony,
which is an honorable estate
instituted of God in the time of man's innocenency,
signifying unto us the mystical union
that is betwixt Christ and His church.
Which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified
with his presence at the first miracle
that he wrought in Cana of Galilee,
and is commended of St. Paul to be honorable among all men.
Therefore, is not to be enterprised,
nor taken in hand unadvisedly,
lightly, or wantonly,
to satisfy man's carnal lusts and appetites,
like brute beasts that have no understanding.
I spotted you. I saw you.
Excuse me.
Anne.
Mrs. Cameron.
I am so pleased you changed your mind about coming.
You look beautiful.
Oh, you are curious.
You wear black even to a wedding.
Oh, I started wearing black because of a wedding.
When my friend Mrs. Lawton got married 16 years ago
to a charmless buffoon.
It seemed inexplicably appropriate.
It's a tradition I've continued.
- Not that Donald is a... - No.
- Charmless... - No.
Buffoon.
No.
I came in spite of my aunt's illness
and my estate affairs because I wanted to say...
I hope you and Donald will be very happy together.
Thank you.
Our time on Earth is brief...
And we should all strive to make the most of it...
And be as happy as we can be.
I'm sorry if I hurt you.
I was always very fond of you.
You must know that.
I'm just...
Not like that.
Oh.
Hello, madam.
We're going to the Lake District.
I thought that you might be more reasonable to deal with.
More reasonable? Oh, you mean softer.
Well, now you know me better.
Hang on, hang on, hang on. What's she accusing me of?
You're drunk, Sowden.
Take him home.
Leave him alone.
Nature played a trick on me,
putting a bold spirit like mine in this vessel.
If we want to be happy, we have to risk getting hurt.
You're playing with fire.
You're so selfish!
One day, I shall have a son,
and he will have a greater claim to Shibden than you!
- Yes. Certainly. Thank you. - Oh!
- Synced and corrected by Firefly & chamallow- - www.addic7ed.com -