You're not to go upstairs, Miss Margaret.

Why not?

Dr Donaldson's up there with your mama.

He's given her a thorough examination this time.

Does he say what it is?

She's... She's poorly at the moment, but she'll get better directly,

so you're not to worry, miss.

- Ah. - Dr Donaldson.

Yes. Ah, thank you.

May I trouble you to come into the sitting room?

Yes, certainly.

You may go, Dixon.

Very well, miss.

What is the matter with Mama?

Well, your mother has expressly asked me not to tell you.

Please tell me, Doctor. As her daughter, I ought to know.

Are my suspicions correct? Tell me the truth.

The latest discoveries of medical science have given us great powers of alleviation.

- But no cure? - No certain cure, no.

Thank you.

My father, ought he to be told?

Well, it's difficult to give advice, but since you ask me,

I'd say do nothing precipitate.

No, my visits by themselves will deepens concern,

so make him all the better able to face the inevitable.

Yes, allow him to find out in his own good time and then comfort him.

Will there be much suffering?

That we cannot tell. It depends on her constitution.

I shall do my best to provide her with all the... all the relief possible.

Thank you.

Good day, Doctor.

Good day, Miss Hale.

May I, Mama?

Yes, of course, child.

I thought I would bring my work up here.

- Company for you. - That's very kind of you, Margaret.

What are you making?

It's a new collar.

- Do you Iike it? - It's very pretty.

Mama, oh, Mama, let me be your nurse.

Oh, no, Margaret. That's Dixon's job.

Please let me try, at any rate.

You don't know what you're asking.

Oh, yes, I do.

You've not been seeing Dr Donaldson?

Oh, surely he wouldn't break his promise to me.

Yes, Mama, he did, but don't blame him. I made him tell me.

That was very wrong of you, Margaret. I didn't want you to know.

But I'm glad that I know, Mama. Well, now I can help look after you.

Dixon and I thought you would shrink from me if you knew.

How could she?

How dare she think I don't love you enough to want to take care of you?

You mustn't hate her.

I'm sorry, Mama.

I will try to be humble and learn her ways.

If you will only let me be in the first place.

I so long for that.

When I was away in London, I used to be afraid that you would forget me.

I'd cry myself to sleep at nights imagining it.

And I used to think,

''How will Margaret ever bear Helstone after the luxury of Harley Street?''

And all the time I pined for Helstone and its simple ways.

When I was at Helstone, I was forever wanting to leave it.

And now I shall die far away from it.

Mama, you must not talk Iike that.

We will have you back at Helstone yet.

We'll see.

I've taken the Iiberty of making you a fresh lemon drink, ma'am.

Thank you, Dixon.

Why, bless her.

She's as sweet as a nut.

Ma'am?

Yes, Dixon, she knows.

You saidst, Nick, on Wednesday sennight, afore a fortnight was up

we'd have the masters down on their knees begging for us to come back.

Well, where am them?

You'm winning. Tha' must nae fret.

Patience, John. Patience.

What use is cowing patience?

I got a missus at death's door.

Don't stand dawdIing, miss. Come on in.

This is Mr Boucher, neighbour.

Morning, Mr Boucher.

Bessy, how are you?

I'm telling you, Nick, my missus is sinking away. 'Tis pitiful to see her.

You're drawing your five shillings of union money, ain't you?

Five shillings a week may be good enough for thee with but two mouths to fill.

- I've got six children, six of them. - It's hard for you, John.

But you must hold on.

I'll be damned to you, damned to the whole sowing worId, masters and unions.

- To hell with you! - Women, John. Women.

Take Bessy a stroll, will you, Margaret?

Come on, Bessy.

Hou'd up, man.

Thy shall na' claim.

What's mine is thine if thou't want.

Here, take it. Here.

Soon as you get your five per cent, pay me back.

We'll never get that five per cent, you must know that.

Then we fall, all honest.

As you've witnessed, John, starvation's a cruel agony,

so let death come at a gallop.

If we'm doomed, then thou'll want these paltry coins. Here, take it.

And I hope they might bide you and yours to the victory.

If I takes this money,

I'm one of you, got it?

I'm a proud man, Nick, and I'll out-union you, you see if I don't.

Take it.

Well, I think we've come to the end of our lesson for tonight, Mr Thornton.

Aye.

Aye, we've done a good stretch.

What a work, Mr Thornton, is the lliad.

What a work.

The heroes standing or falling by their own personal courage.

Faithful and determined.

A lesson to all of us, especially at a time Iike this.

Oh, by the way, Mr Hale, I've been intending to mention it.

- What is that, Mr Thornton? - I'm giving a dinner party next week.

I would be very happy to invite you and Mrs Hale.

Very kind of you.

Margaret, Mr Thornton is inviting your mother and me to dine with him.

It's next Thursday.

The other guests will be the principal manufacturers in the town.

But won't we be a Iittle out of place?

Not at all. They'll be delighted to meet you.

They're all very keenly interested in education.

It is kind of you, Mr Thornton,

to say that by meeting your friends my father might find pupils.

It's very Iikely.

I don't know about your part of the worId, but in this,

much can be achieved over a good meal.

Mr Thornton, I'm afraid that my mother may not be well enough to attend.

She is a Iittle poorly at the moment,

but I'm sure that the notion of going out to dine

will put fresh heart into her.

I'm sorry to hear that Mrs Hale is unwell.

If she cannot attend, then I fully understand.

Might I make a suggestion?

Miss Hale, would you grace my table by accompanying your father,

whether Mrs Hale can come or not?

- I attend? - Yes.

Mr Thornton, I appreciate your kindness and your courtesy,

but you put me in something of a predicament.

What is that, Margaret?

You know my feelings towards the strike, Papa.

I've found friends among the poorer people

and I've seen the hardships they're suffering.

Miss Hale, I admire your scruples.

- But they are unwarranted. - Unwarranted?

If you've seen suffering, they've brought in on themselves.

- I didn't start this strike. - They are only demanding a just wage.

What is a just wage?

Ten shillings a week? Ten pounds? A hundred? What is a just wage?

I don't know.

All I know is that they want a better Iife.

So do we all, but what we've got is here and now,

and it's governed by strict economic principles.

A delicate balance between cost of labour, market, consumption and supply.

I do not understand the details of trade, Mr Thornton.

Then it's a pity.

And it's a pity the workers don't take the trouble to find out either.

If wages keep on going up and up,

your gold sovereign won't be worth a brass farthing!

You can't just up wages up like that and they're fools who think they can!

I'm sorry. I spoke hastily and...I...fear rudely.

Mr Hale, for all of your lessons, I'm still a coarse manufacturer.

Miss Hale...I hope you will forgive me.

Certainly.

(Piano scales)

Jane, would you go and ask Miss Fanny to stop that noise?

Yes, ma'am.

(Piano stops)

(Discordant notes)

(Piano lid thuds)

How dare you, Mother! How dare you interrupt my practising!

I can't stand your row, so you'll stop it.

- I'll what? - We'll have no more piano.

This is the first time, the very first time in my life,

I have been able to practise without all the din of the works out there.

Well, I'd give my right arm to have it back.

- What? - The machinery back.

There's your music.

It's the only music I want.

You've no culture, Mother. Do you know that?

For all your mother-of-pearl inlay,

you'll stay common till your last breath.

I'd rather be common than go soft like my children.

You and your brother make a fine pair.

It's because we've got accomplishments, isn't it?

Well, you can't get far in this worId without accomplishments,

and my fingering's one of them.

Walter says I've got perfect fingering.

Well, you take your opportunity... and marry him.

Mother!

If I know Slickson's son, he's out for our money.

Well, we've got a good chance of ending up as paupers,

so you make sure of him while you can.

It's enough to bring on one of my swooning fits.

I'm delicate.

Well, I've just seen Hamper.

He wants to come to terms with them, give them a two per cent increase.

- Well? - I've told him we can't.

It'd be suicide. He's gotta wait till the Irish workers arrive.

When do they arrive?

The agent in Dublin won't give me a specific date.

I pray to God it's soon.

Now, just you hammer it into those mill owners at dinner on Thursday,

Irish workers are the only answer.

Aye.

Mother, can I wear my blue silk dress?

- Eh? - At the dinner on Thursday.

For goodness sake, girI, wear what you like.

Thank you.

By the way, Mother, I've invited the Hales.

Oh, I see.

Fanny, would you like me to invite

your dancing master and his wife to attend as well?

There is a marked difference between Mr Hale and a dancing master.

Is there?

How you can bother about some teacher of Greek at a time like this...

It's an indulgence, Mother.

I sweat enough. I think I deserve it.

You'll have to go, Margaret.

Your father cannot attend alone and I cannot manage it, I'm afraid.

I know, Mama, I know.

Thank you, Dixon.

What dress will you wear?

I've not thought about it.

You've had no new dresses this season, have you, child?

But there is the dress you wore for Edith's wedding.

Yes.

Dixon, go and find it for me, will you?

Ma'am.

What's wrong, Margaret? Can't you tell me what it is?

There are people in the town starving

and yet here am I to go to some sumptuous meal.

Well, you're doing it because of your father.

I'm so lost, Mama. So lost.

It'll need some airing.

Get the smell of lavender out. It's a bit overpowering.

But we didn't want any moths, did we, ma'am?

Hold it up against you, Margaret. Let me see.