"My darling sister, it isn't going to be at all what we expected.
"The house is old and quaint and altogether delightful --
"red brick.
"The hall itself is practically a room.
"From there you go right or left into dining room or drawing room.
"Straight ahead there are the stairs going up to the first floor --
"three bedrooms there, and three attics above.
"There's a very big wych-elm in the field behind the house.
"I quite love that tree already...
".. and, of course, more ordinary trees,
"flowerbeds, bluebells, forget-me-nots,
"peonies, irises and azaleas...
".. and a wisteria and clematis which grows all around the house."
"And now for the family themselves..."
"This morning I was awakened by a clicketing sound,
"coming from the garden..."
Oh, blast!
"It was Charles, the older son, practising his croquet on the lawn.
"I must stress the word 'practising'.
"A bit later I heard more clacketing.
"At first I thought they were having a game...
".. but no, it was Mr Wilcox, practising HIS croquet.
"Mr Wilcox prefers three hoops, Charles, one.
"After a bit comes Miss Evie Wilcox.
"She does exercises on a callisthenics machine
"that is hanging from a pergola.
"At last comes Mrs Wilcox,
"who is a creature of a very different sort...
".. because, for all their croquet and callisthenics,
"Mrs Wilcox seems, of all of them,
"to belong most completely to Howards End --
"and it to her.
"Paul, younger son, arrives this morning."
"Much love..."
"Modified love to Tibby..."
".. and love to Aunt Juley.
"So good of her to come and keep you company..."
".. but what a bore for you. Burn this."
"Will write again Thursday. Helen."
But what sort of people are these Wilcoxes, Margaret?
I don't understand.
- I don't know any more than you do. We met them in Germany. - Oh.
We had an awful expedition from Heidelberg to Speyer,
to see the old cathedral there.
We met the Wilcoxes in the public gardens.
They hadn't any German, and we took some drives together.
Then they invited us to visit them when we came home.
Then Tibby got hay fever and Helen went on alone.
That's really all I can tell you.
Oh, you girls have always been so independent.
Isn't that generally reckoned to be a good thing, Aunt Juley?
I'm sure I don't know --
but I have always thought that the care of your sister and brother
too great a burden to place upon a young woman of your tender years.
Your youth has practically been thrown away
on your precious independence.
Practically!
Yes, Margaret, it has!
Who is to say what the result might have proved by now,
had your father left you in my care,
which I know your dear mother would have wished, and as I...
Oh, dear Aunt Juley, let's not go over that again.
Poor Mother left it up to Papa to decide, Papa left it up to me,
and I don't think I have done so badly after all --
and I've always valued your advice.
Yes, but you never take it.
Oh, I'm not saying you've done badly by Helen and Tibby, dear.
- Just for yourself. - Aunt Juley!
Excuse me, Miss, but Master Tibby's asking for you again.
Thank you, Nancy.
Annie, I think you can clear away the breakfast things now.
Yes, Miss.
"Dearest Meg, I do wish you were here.
"The Wilcoxes continue to fascinate."
Ah -- Miss Schlegel. This is my brother Paul.
Paul, Miss Schlegel is stopping with us for the week.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
"Paul, younger brother, is quite the handsomest of the lot,
"but not a bit conceited,
"nor over-serious, like Charles -- older brother.
"Mr Wilcox runs the Imperial and West African Rubber Company,
"and says the most horrid things so nicely.
"When I said I believed in equality between the sexes
"he gave me such a setting down as I have never had.
"Like all really strong people, he did it without hurting me."
My dear Miss Schlegel, there is no equality among men --
how can there be equality between men and women?
What civilisation has ever existed
on terms of perfect equality among its constituents?
What household, for that matter?
"Only Paul tried to come to my rescue,
"but he was quite overmatched."
But then oughtn't your anti-Suffragists
object to being ruled by a woman for 63 years?
- Bosh. - 64. - No, it was 63. - But why is it bosh?
- Because... - All right, then, 63. - And it's no good saying "bosh"
- when someone disagrees with you. - You can if it is bosh.
It's bosh because the exception proves the rule --
and you will search in vain
for as violent an enemy of your Suffragists as the late Queen.
But, well, wasn't that hypocrisy in her?
Not at all.
Bosh.
There was no hypocrisy in it.
It showed her perfect disinterest in the controversy.
"In five minutes he took up everything
"we were raised to believe in and ripped it entirely to shreds.
"It was lovely." Oh, dear.
One sound man of business does more good to the world
than a dozen of your social reformers.
Oh!
"But I have saved the best part for last."
Well, I dread to hear it!
I do suppose the arguments against women's suffrage
are frightfully strong, Mrs Wilcox?
Are they?
I never follow any arguments.
I am only too thankful not to have the vote myself.
- Would you pour the coffee, please? - Yes, Miss. - Thank you.
"And suddenly the discussion was over.
"I was never so much surprised in my life!
"So you see, Meg, I've got everything upso-down again.
"It is not Mr Wilcox who rules at Howards End, but his wife.
"She slams no doors, states no facts, and does no callisthenics.
"They worship and obey her.
"It makes one worship them in turn."
But why our Helen should be so charmed
to find her deepest convictions so easily disaggregated,
I simply cannot imagine.
I think she's infatuated with the lot of them.
Off we go! Onwards!
They sound to me quite the wrong sort of people for Helen.
Not our sort of people at all.
They are rather a breath of fresh air.
Sometimes I feel that we are swathed in cant,
and it is good for us to be stripped of it.
Stripped of what, dear?
Cant. Argot. Jargon, hypocrisy, sanctimoniousness.
Sometimes I long for someone dominating
to tell me that my ideas are sheltered and academic,
that equality is...
- Bosh. - Socialism?
Dangerous bosh.
Art and literature...
Oh, Margaret...!
Bosh!
This is really too much.
Except of course when conducive to strengthening the character.
Of course.
You have a strong character, Miss Schlegel...
Yes, it has been strengthened by art and literature.
Aha! You prove my point.
You are really the most peculiar girl.
"Yes, my darling Meg,
"one by one my Schlegel fetiches have been overthrown.
"The Wilcox men see everything with such freshness
"and clarity that nothing seems to muddle them."
The ruin dates from the eleventh century.
We can stop here for half an hour
and still be in time for some cricket.
But surely, Margaret, dear,
you can find in yourself no answering feeling
for that kind of push?
No, but I do sometimes think that the real world
has been marching past us for some time now,
and there's nothing wrong with Helen joining in the parade
for a week or two --
if only to ensure that we're not wholly and entirely left behind.
Well, I, for one, have never marched in a parade,
and I have no wish to do so now.
You and Helen may do as you choose, of course.
Oh, don't let's worry about Helen!
Her head may be easily turned,
but it does go on turning, if you see what I mean.
That's why it's got so much more sense in it than most people's.
At least... sometimes it does.
Miss Schlegel...
I...
- Helen... - Yes, do.
"Dearest, dearest Meg. I do not know what you will say.
"Paul, younger son, and I are in love."
Oh, dear.
But this is far too sudden, surely.
Has the young man made an offer?
She doesn't say.
Our Helen is not a girl to be trifled with --
and if he has not made an offer...
- She doesn't say, Aunt Juley. - What's to be done?
I don't think anything needs doing but I must go down to see her.
Margaret, dear. Quite frankly -- you won't be offended?
I feel you are not up to this business.
This requires an older person.
You Schlegels, you are so impetuous.
You see far too many people here. Unshaven musicians. Actresses, even.
German cousins...
- Oh, Aunt Juley! - Acquaintances picked up at foreign hotels. - Really...
Disaster was bound to come.
How lucky that I happened to be on the spot when it came.
You would say the wrong thing. To a certainty you would.
In your anxiety for Helen's happiness,
you would offend the whole of these Wilcoxes
by asking one of your impetuous questions.
I shall ask no questions.
I have it from Helen that she is in love.
There is no question to ask, as long as she keeps to that.
A long engagement, if you like, but...
- Is there an engagement? - .. I shall make no inquiries.
I don't know, Auntie. I presume, if they are in love...
Well, in that case, dear, why go down?
Because I love her and I must be near her in this crisis in her life.
If only to say brava for finding happiness, and, "Here I am, Helen!"
If you can't see that, I can't explain it to you.
- But... - Aunt Juley, I must go to Howards End myself.
I can never thank you properly for offering.
I mean to go down tomorrow, if Tibby is well enough, and that's flat.
(Oh, dear.)
I told you I was worse.
He does seem a bit feverish.
I might stop breathing at any moment.
I nearly suffocated in my sleep last night.
I really ought to have someone with me all the time
and Meg has promised to read to me from Walter Savage Landor.
Oh, really, Tibby.
- Helen... - I don't think he's in any grave danger
but I do recommend that someone keep an eye on him.
There!
Now, you will remember not to be drawn into any discussions
about an engagement, Aunt Juley?
Just give my letter to Helen
and say whatever you feel yourself to her
but only to her, and do keep clear of the relatives.
You may depend on me.
"All over. Wish I had never written.
"Tell no-one. Helen."
Oh, crikey.
I want a house. Its name is Howards Lodge.
Do you know where it is?
Mr Wilcox...!
- Oh, dear. - The lady's wanting Howards End.
Excuse me asking, but are you the younger Mr Wilcox, or the elder?
The younger. Can I do anything for you?
Oh, well... Really. Are you?
My niece isn't with you, by any chance?
No, I came over with my father.
He has gone on north on your train.
You'll see Miss Schlegel at lunch.
- You're coming up to lunch, I hope? - Mm!
Oh, this is very good of you. Very good indeed.
So, you see, we have just heard from Helen last night.
Oh, yes?
So, naturally I am very anxious to talk to you.
Mr Wilcox, Margaret has told me everything.
I have seen Helen's letter.
I beg your pardon. I didn't catch.
About Helen. About Helen, of course!
I'm afraid I don't quite see what you're getting at.
Helen, Mr Wilcox. My niece and you.
Miss Schlegel and myself?
I trust there has been no misunderstanding.
You are Mr Paul Wilcox?
I'm not.
Then why did you say so at the station?
I beg your pardon, I said no such thing.
My name is Charles.
Charles!
You don't mean to say my brother Paul and Miss Schlegel...
Good God!
Mr Wilcox, my niece...
But he's going to Africa. The plans have all been made!
Well, perhaps they have, Mr Wilcox, but we are not in Africa now.
Has he promised to marry her?
Well, I have no such information, Mr Wilcox.
- Idiot! The idiot! - Why...?!
Oh!
Let me tell you, the thing's impossible and must be stopped.
Yes. Yes, it is impossible.
Yes, it will be stopped and I shall stop it.
I warn you, Paul hasn't a penny.
There's no need to warn us. The warning is all the other way.
- My niece... - He's to make his way out to Nigeria.
.. is an exceptional person.
- He couldn't think of marrying for years. - I will not stand idle...
- When he does, it must be a woman... - .. while she throws herself away
- on people who will not appreciate her. Will you let me finish? - No!
All I know is, she's spread the thing, and he hasn't.
- He was ashamed to tell us. - Will you please let me out of this motor car?
- He knows he's been a damned fool. - Aunt Juley! - Paul!
Oh, my poor Helen...!
- I have just had a telegram from Margaret. - Paul!
- I-I meant to stop your coming. It isn't -- it's over. - Paul!
Over?
- Aunt Juley, dear, don't, please...! - Paul!
Don't let them know I've been so silly. It wasn't anything.
Paul, is there any truth to this?
Don't let them know. They are never to know.
- I didn't... - Do bear up, for my sake. - I don't...
Yes or no, man. Plain question. Plain answer.
Did or didn't Miss Schlegel...?
Charles?
Miss Schlegel,
would you take your aunt up to your room,
or to my room, if you think that's best?
Paul, do find Evie, and tell her lunch for six
but I'm not sure we shall all be downstairs for it.
Mother!
Are you aware that Paul has been playing the fool with that girl?
It's all right. They have broken off their engagement.
Engagement?!
- They do not love any longer, if you prefer it put that way. - Hm!
Would you please put the car away, and come in for lunch?
Yes, Mother.
It was the silliest thing. It was over at once.
As soon as I went into the dining room the next morning,
I knew it was no good.
There was Evie managing the tea urn -- I can't explain --
and Mr Wilcox reading The Times,
and Charles talking to Paul about stocks and shares, and...
.. he looked so frightened...
.. and when I saw all the others so placid, with their newspapers,
and Paul mad with terror in case I said the wrong thing...
It was awful.
Good morning.
Oh, Meg, it was too idiotic.
I felt for a moment that the whole Wilcox family was a fraud --
just a wall of newspapers and motorcars and golf clubs,
and that if it fell, I should find nothing behind it
but panic and emptiness...
.. and somehow I saw Mr Wilcox behind the whole miserable affair.
Reading his Times, thinking his mercenary thoughts,
reclining in his little kingdom
with Charles and Evie and Paul his little toy soldiers,
and not real people at all,
and Mrs Wilcox his only master, and then...
Ah, Miss Schlegel, I...
If you could just let me...
- I'm dreadfully sorry if I... - Oh, please...
You see... I leave for Africa in a couple of months.
Nigeria, in fact, and...
.. I should like you to know that if I were free...
.. I should feel obliged to... well...
- Please! - It's wrong to lead a girl,
- and I was brought up to... - Please don't go on.
It was nothing.
Paul? Anything wrong?
And when I couldn't get to the station to send another telegram...
It's been a disgusting business and to think that...
And to think that because you and a young man meet for a moment
there must be all these telegrams and anger.
Do you think personal relations lead to sloppiness in the end?
Oh, Meg, that's what I felt,
only not so clearly, when the Wilcoxes were so... competent,
and seemed to have their hands on all the ropes.
You don't feel that way now?
I remember Paul at breakfast.
I shall never forget him.
He had nothing to fall back upon.
Tibby, dear! Are you feeling any better?
I suppose so.
Hello, Helen.
How are all your Wilcoxes, then?
Don't tease her, Tibby.
I'm sorry.
Cheer up, old pal.
Someone's bound to marry you one of these days.
- No, thanks. - They are.
What about me?
Am I never to marry, Tibby?
Oh, gosh, no.
You could. You don't want anyone.
Don't I?
And soon no-one will want you.
Yes, they will!
But they shan't have her.
- Shall they, Tibs? - I shouldn't think so.
Who's that sitting next to Helen?
I don't know.
[Good afternoon. Excuse me.]
I say...
- Margaret, is Helen all right? - Oh, yes.
She is always running away in the middle of a programme.
Excuse me...
.. that lady has... quite inadvertently taken my umbrella.
Oh, goodness gracious me! I'm so sorry.
Tibby, run after Helen.
I shall miss the Four Serious Songs if I do.
It isn't of any consequence.
Of course it is!
Tibby, you must go. Tibby!
Well, I can't go now.
My sister is so careless.
Not at all.
If you gave me your address...
Not at all, not at all.
That is where we live.
If you preferred, you could call for your umbrella after the concert.
Though I don't like to trouble you, when it's been all our fault.
? Denn es gehet... ?
Oh, dear, it's the Brahms.
? .. dem Menschen wie Vieh
? Wie dies stirbt... ?
Please, allow me.
Oh, that really isn't necessary, thank you.
May I carry your programme for you?
I'm really quite able... Oh, thank you.
It was a fine programme today, was it not?
The Beethoven was fine. I don't like the Brahms, though.
When my work permits, I attend the gallery for the Royal Opera.
Oh?
This year I have been three times.
To Faust, Tosca, and the Tannhauser.
Mm!
But surely you haven't forgotten the sound of the drum
steadily beating on the low C, Aunt Juley?
No-one could.
A specially loud part?
No, no -- between the scherzo and the finale.
Do you think music is so different to pictures?
I...
- .. should have thought so, sort of. - So should I.
Now, my sister declares they're just the same.
Do you agree, Mr Bast?
Oh, thank you.
We have great arguments over it. She says I'm dense.
I say she's sloppy.
Now doesn't that seem absurd to you?
What's the point of the arts if they're interchangeable?
At the moment, I think music is in a very serious state.
- Yes...! - Of course the real villain is Wagner.
Well... I do hope you'll stay for tea, Mr Bast.
We should be so glad.
We've dragged you so far out of your way.
Tibby, do you have the latchkey? Of course I've forgotten mine.
- Here. - Oh, never mind.
Helen! Let us in!
All right!
It's all right, Annie.
Helen! You've been taking this gentleman's umbrella
from the Prince Regent's Hall.
He's had the trouble of coming all this way for it.
- Taken a what? Oh! - His umbrella.
Helen, you must not be so ramshackly.
Oh, I'm so sorry! I do nothing but steal umbrellas.
I'm so very sorry.
Do come in and choose one.
Annie, another place for tea, please.
Is yours a hooky or a nobbly?
Mine's a nobbly. At least I think it is.
Tibby, do tell the maids to hurry tea up.
What about this one...?
No, it's all gone along the seams. It's an appalling umbrella.
- It must be mine. - No. It's mine.
Thank you.
I'm sorry to have put you to the trouble.
Oh, but...
Goodbye.
- But will you stop...? - Thank you. Goodbye.
Now, Helen, how stupid you've been!
What ever have I done?
Well, don't you see, you've frightened him away?
I meant him to stop for tea.
You oughtn't to talk about stealing or holes in umbrellas.
Well, no, it won't do a bit of good now!
Oh, do stop!
Well, I dare say it's for the best.
We know nothing about the young man, Margaret.
He might have stolen something.
Oh, Aunt Juley! How can you?
You make me more and more ashamed.
We could have easily let him have the spoons.
If you don't drink the tea now it will lose the aroma.
Well, I didn't find the young man especially distinguished.
You girls always have the most extraordinary people here.
I just cannot account for it.
I don't say he was distinguished. That's just it.
He said the most ordinary things imaginable about Faust and Tosca,
but he was so keen, and he had such nice, kind eyes.
Have you got a cigarette, Meg?
I suppose he was very good looking.
If only his face were not so thin.
Did you notice his right-hand cuff was frayed,
and he kept tucking it in?
I never notice the way anyone looks or dresses.
That's because you are what is called "attractive".
If you weren't, you shouldn't notice anything else.
At all events,
I do think we might have taken Mr Bast into the dining room.
I am really distressed he had no tea.
One more failure for Helen.
Aunt Juley, did you really not hear the drum beating on the low C
- all the time? - Oh, shut up, Tibby. - Oh, Tibby, don't go on, will you?
But it is unmistakable.
Good evening, Mr Bast.
Good evening, Mr Cunningham.
Hello?
- Hello, Jacky. - Hello, Len.
You all right?
Yes.
Give us a kiss, darlin'.
Did you hear the concert?
I did, yes.
What was it?
Oh -- a classical concert. At the Prince Regent's Hall.
- What book is it? - It's just...
I love you, Lenny.
Jacky...
You mustn't mind if I...
Well, you mustn't mind me.
I don't mind you, darlin'.
Bookmark.
Mr Wilcox!
- Miss Schlegel! - But how extraordinary! How do you do?
How do you do?
I... Yes, very well, thank you -- how does Mrs Wilcox do?
Very well, very well. She's just upstairs.
Upstairs?
- But... Has... - We've taken a flat here.
A flat? Have you really?
Yes, we've just moved in! There's Evie, my daughter.
Oh, Evie -- I've been longing to meet her.
Evie! Ah.
Evie!
Ah, well.
- But, Mr Wilcox, you know we live just up the road? - Yes, I know.
I know -- how does your sister do?
Helen? Oh, yes, very well.
Please remember me to her.
We must pop round once we've settled in.
Evie will be so glad to make your acquaintance.
Oh, yes -- you must.
Yes, well. This is jolly.
Yes!
Will you excuse me? My wife will be expecting me.
There's so much to do.
Yes, of course. Please give her my regards.
- Indeed. Good morning. - Hm!
But what a dreadful coincidence! Imagine the evenings.
You turn on an electric light here or there,
and it's almost the same room.
One evening they may forget to draw their blinds down,
and you'll see them, and they'll see you...
Impossible to water the plants or even to speak!
Does Helen know?
They've only just moved in.
But suppose Helen were to meet Paul on the street.
She cannot very well not bow.
Of course she must bow.
We must bow, and pay calls and leave cards -- but the other thing is dead.
Helen doesn't mind, neither must we.
Oh, if only I had not to go home to Swanage tomorrow,
just when you girls are wanting me the most.
What's dead, and what doesn't Helen mind?
Oh, my poor, dear broken-hearted girl.
Am I? What's the matter?
It's the Wilcoxes again.
They've taken a flat across the street.
Have they? Well, that's...
I...
Oh, Helen!
You don't mind them coming, do you?
Of course she does!
Of course you do!
Of course I don't mind.
Only you and Meg are being so grave about it
when there's nothing to be grave about at all.
Are you all right?
I'm fine.
- Bye! - Bye!
- Bye-bye! - Goodbye, Aunt Juley! - Bye!
? Puff, puff, puff, puff
? Watching the smoke arising
? Puff, puff, puff, puff
? Soon you'll be realising
? That which the poet has written is true
? All love is a practical joke
- ? For a woman is only... ? - Mrs Wilcox has left this.
? .. a woman my boy
? But a good cigar is a smoke. ?
Oh, bother, the whole family!
Why won't this woman leave us alone?
Mrs Wilcox has called.
Oh! Well, I am going to Germany with Frieda,
so, even if I were still in love with Paul,
I should be perfectly safe.
Fortunately, I am not --
but you may be sure I will bob up and down in the street
- like a jack-in-the-box whenever I meet the devils... - Oh, Helen!
.. blushing all the while for acting the fool at Howards End...
Helen, you know I don't think that.
.. managing as best I can all the same,
until the occasion of my next colossal blunder.
All right.
- Auf Wiedersehen! - Auf Wiedersehen!
"Dear Mrs Wilcox,
"I have to write something discourteous.
"It would be better if we did not meet.
"As far as I know,
"Helen no longer occupies her thoughts with your son.
"Both my sister and my aunt have given displeasure to your family,
"and it is therefore right that our acquaintance,
"which began so pleasantly in Germany, should end.
"Believe me, yours truly, Margaret Schlegel."
"Dear Miss Schlegel,
"you should not have written me such a letter.
"I called to tell you that Paul has gone abroad.
"Ruth Wilcox."
I say, Meg?
Will you turn the pages for me?
Good morning, Miss Schlegel.
Oh, Mrs Wilcox, I have made the baddest blunder.
I am more, more, more ashamed and sorry than I can say.
I knew Paul was going to India in November, but I forgot.
He sailed on the 17th for Nigeria, in Africa.
I knew -- I know.
I have been too absurd all through.
I am more sorry than I can say, and I hope you can forgive me.
It doesn't matter, Miss Schlegel.
It is good of you to have come round so promptly.
It does matter!
I have been rude -- and my sister is not even at home,
so there's not even that as an excuse.
- Indeed? - She's just gone away to Germany.
She's gone, as well...
I see.
You've been worrying, too! I can see that you have.
I did think it best that they didn't meet again.
Now, why?
That is a most difficult question.
I think you put it best in your letter --
it was just an instinct, which may be wrong.
I am always so anxious to protect Helen
when really it is we that should be protected from her.
I don't mean that she's foolish, or thoughtless,
but her mind goes along so quickly, and she rushes in everywhere.
Rather as I am now.
I've raised her, you see, and her brother,
ever since our father died, when they were still quite young,
and I was quite young myself, as I didn't wholly understand.
Oh, I shouldn't have sent my aunt away on such a commission.
I would have come myself, only Tibby was in bed with hay fever --
but I do hope it's perfectly all right now.
Yes.
Yes, I'm sure it is.
I must be going -- you'll be getting up.
No, please stop a little longer.
I am taking a day in bed.
Now and then I do.
I thought of you as one of the early risers.
At Howards End, yes.
There's nothing to get up for in London.
Nothing to get up for?
What with all the winter exhibitions and Ysaye playing in the afternoon?
Not to mention people.
The truth is, I'm a little tired.
First came the wedding, and then Paul went off,
and instead of resting yesterday I did a round of calls,
and now my family have gone to Yorkshire for a fortnight --
so you find me quite on my own.
Wedding?
Yes, Charles, my older son, is married.
- Indeed! - Yes.
There's a photograph of Charles and Dolly --
that is the name of his wife -- in the double frame.
Oh!
She's very pretty.
Her father and Charles belong to the same club
and are both devoted to golf.
Dolly plays golf, too, though I believe not so well.
They first met in a mixed foursome.
Your family are so wonderfully athletic.
Do you play golf, Mrs Wilcox?
Good heavens, no.
But it amuses them.
And your husband is away?
All my family are away.
Are you quite sure I'm not interrupting?
Yes.
Quite.
I do hope you'll like Wickham Place, Mrs Wilcox.
I love our little house...
.. though it's not half so glamorous as your lovely flat.
I should like to see it.
I should love to show it you!
It's a lovely old house.
We've lived there all our lives.
Our father came from Germany, you see,
just after the unification, and...
"My dear Mrs Wilcox.
"I wonder if I might tempt you to come to a little luncheon party
"I should like to give in your honour, next Thursday,
"to welcome you to Wickham Place.
"I should so like for you to meet my friends,
"and they are very keen to make your acquaintance.
"So, you see, I do hope you will join us.
"Yours truly, Margaret Schlegel."
.. C-sharp minor as it passes...
The people at Stettin drop things into boats...
.. affectation to compare the Rhine to music.
- .. more liberty of action... - .. out of overhanging warehouses.
But -- but I should like to say something!
Now, don't say the Germans have no taste, or I shall scream.
They haven't, but they take poetry seriously.
The German is always on the lookout for beauty.
My blood boils --
well, I'm half German, so put it down to patriotism --
when I listen to the tasteful contempt of the average islander
for things Teutonic.
What do you think, Mrs Wilcox?
I'm not sure.
I think perhaps I am too old to discuss anything,
with or without humility.
We never discuss anything at Howards End.
And I sometimes think -- but I cannot expect your generation to agree...
- No, never mind us. Do say! - Please say! - Do say!
I think Miss Schlegel puts everything splendidly...
.. but I sometimes think it is wiser
to leave action and discussion to men.
What an interesting life you live in London.
No, we don't. We lead the lives of gibbering monkeys.
Don't pretend you enjoyed your lunch,
Mrs Wilcox, for you loathed it!
But forgive me by coming again, alone, or by asking me to you.
I am used to young people,
and I enjoyed my lunch very much, Miss Schlegel, dear --
I'm not pretending!
I hear a great deal of chatter at home,
only with my family it's more sport and politics.
I only wish that I could have joined in more --
but you younger people, you move so quickly that it dazes me.
Oh, Mrs Wilcox, I like you so much!
- Goodbye. - Goodbye.
"Dear Miss Schlegel,
"would you like to join me tomorrow for some Christmas shopping?
"I have needed to take several days in bed and feel behindhand,
"and am anxious to make up for lost time.
"As ever, your friend, Ruth Wilcox."
First of all, we must make a list and tick off people's names.
Do you have any ideas?
I am not a good shopper.
Take my notebook, then,
- and write your own name at the top. - Oh, hooray!
How kind you are to start with me!
But I don't want a Yuletide gift, Mrs Wilcox.
I should like to give you something
worth your acquaintance, Miss Schlegel.
In memory of your kindness to me during my lonely fortnight,
with all my family away.
You have stopped me from brooding.
I am too apt to brood when Mr Wilcox is away.
I suppose it may be reckoned a fault.
To be fond of one's husband? I shouldn't think so.
To be too dependent.
I'm desperately dependent on Helen --
but if I have been of use to you, which I didn't know,
you can't repay me with anything tangible.
But one would like to.
Perhaps I shall think of something as we go about.
I suppose Mr Wilcox is quite independent, himself?
Mr Wilcox?
Well, he has such a strong character.
A very fine nature, really. Has he not?
You are so intellectual.
Am I?
Yes.
I admire you for it.
Well, usually we put the tree in the powder closet,
and draw a curtain when the candles are lighted -- it's quite pretty.
I do wish we might have a powder closet in the next house.
Of course, the tree will have to be small,
and the presents don't hang on it.
Then you are leaving Wickham Place?
Yes. Quite soon, when the lease expires.
We must.
But couldn't you get the lease renewed?
No, they mean to pull down Wickham Place and build flats like yours.
I had no idea you had this hanging over you.
Howards End was nearly pulled down once. It would have killed me.
I lived there long before Mr Wilcox knew it.
I was born there.
It must be a very different sort of house to ours.
We are fond of it, but there's nothing distinctive about it.
We shall easily find another.
So you think.
Again, my lack of experience, I suppose!
I wish I could see myself the way you see me.
Wonderfully well read, but incapable of...
That's not at all how I see you, Miss Schlegel.
Come down with me now to Howards End.
I want you to see it.
Oh, Mrs Wilcox...
Later on, I would love it...
.. but it's hardly the weather for such an expedition.
Might I come again some other day?
We can find a carriage back to Wickham Place.
A thousand thanks for all your help, Miss Schlegel.
Well...
Not at all.
But if I married and moved to Scotland,
would you call my son a Scot or an Englishman?
I haven't the faintest idea.
But it's the same question put a different way.
Now, take a Jew...
I shall go mad.
Mrs Wilcox!
Forgive me, I came, I'm so sorry!
Thank you, Miss Schlegel!
I will come if I still may.
Yes -- and you are coming to sleep, too, dear.
- Oh, but I haven't got my things... - We have everything you need.
You must see my house in the morning.
These London fogs never stray far.
I dare say they are sitting in the sun in Hertfordshire --
and you will never repent joining them.
I will never repent joining you.
- Mother? Mother! - Evie!
- Father, I say! - Evie, my pet! - Look who's here!
Why aren't you in Yorkshire?
- No -- motor smash -- the plans were changed. - Why, Ruth!
What in the name of all that's wonderful are you doing here?
Henry, dear! Here's a lovely surprise.
You know Miss Schlegel.
Oh, yes, of course, Miss Schlegel. How do you do?
- How do you do, Mr Wilcox? - Yes!
- Evie. - Miss Schlegel has been so kind to me in your absence, Henry.
Has she? Well, I'm very much indebted to you, Miss Schlegel.
- But how's yourself, Ruth? - Oh, I'm fine.
So are we -- so was our car, before Ripon.
This wretched horse and cart with a foolish driver...
Miss Schlegel, our little outing must be another day.
As I was saying, this fool of a driver,
as the policeman himself admits...
Another day, Mrs Wilcox, of course.
As we're insured against third-party risks,
it won't matter so much...
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
I am so dreadfully sorry.
Miss Schlegel, you are very good to come.
The post's come.
Who is Miss Schlegel?
I don't understand.
Your mother cannot have been herself when it was written.
- Bad news? - Oh, it's only a letter reminding us
that the lease has expired and we need to clear out.
You will make it all right, won't you?
Haven't I said so, a dozen times?
That is your card, is it not?
Yes, an old one.
Then will you please oblige me
by explaining how my husband came to have it --
and where he might be at this moment?
I thought I recognised your voices.
Oh, what an age it has been since I last saw you, Mr Wilcox.
Am I never to marry, Tibby?
Oh, gosh, no.
You could. You don't want anyone.
Don't I?
It's from Evie Wilcox, inviting me to lunch at Simpson's tomorrow.
Perhaps it is a ploy to drive you into the arms of her father.
Miss Schlegel -- come round my side.
I like Mr Wilcox.
He is in love with you.
Oh, really! Why should he be in love with me?
"Dear Miss Schlegel...
"I have decided to give up the house in Ducie Street..."
".. and to let it out on a yearly tenancy."
He's a beast. He has no human feeling.
He is not a beast.
I thought him rather splendid.