Shooting Livien

"To my dear husband,

"I should like Miss Margaret Schlegel to have Howards End."

Your mother cannot have been herself when it was written.

- Oh, what an age it has been since I last saw you, Mr Wilcox. - He is a beast, he has no human feeling.

He's not a beast! I thought him rather splendid.

- You do love me, don't you? - I've said so, haven't I?

Only it's not right we keep pretending.

We've just come across a young fellow who's evidently very poor.

Now, how should such a man be helped?

Porphyrion is a bad, bad concern.

- A friend of ours said that it was bound to smash by Easter. - Where are you going?

What do you want to have me in there for?

It's only a letter reminding us that we have until May to clear out.

"I have decided to give up the house in Ducie Street..."

"..and to let it out on a yearly tenancy."

Shall I say yes or shall I say no?

- Say yes. - Say no.

That's decided, then.

I think our race is degenerating.

We cannot settle even this little thing.

What will it be like when we have to settle a big one?

It's the little things one bungles at.

The big, real ones are nothing when they come.

I was thinking of Father,

having to leave Germany at 40, adopt a new country

and new ideals.

And we, at our age, can't even change houses.

I wish you'd come with me.

No. I'd rather leave it to you.

But you won't do anything rash, will you, Margaret?

There's nothing rash to do.

This is awfully kind, but I'm afraid it's not going to do.

The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family.

- What, have you come determined not to deal? - Not exactly.

Not exactly? Well, in that case, let's be starting.

- Is this a new motor car, Mr Wilcox? - Yes.

Presumably, it's very beautiful. How do you like it, Crane?

Very much, Ma'am.

Is it a steam car?

No, no. I don't hold with steam engines.

No, of course not. There's no thingummy. But aren't they faster?

- I read... - They are just now... - Not for long, no, but...

Crane, thank you.

But the potentialities of the internal combustion engine are infinite...

- No future in the steam car, Miss. - Crane! - Beg your pardon, sir. - May I?

- No, thank you. I can manage. - No, nonsense! Let me help you. - Um...

So how on earth did you know my chauffeur was called Crane?

Oh, I know Crane. I've been driving with Mrs Wilcox.

I know you have a housekeeper called Mazy.

I know all sorts of things.

How does Evie do?

Oh, Evie? Oh, you won't see her. She's gone out with Cahill.

I tell you, it's no fun, being left so much alone.

I have my work all day,

but I come home in the evening and I can't stand the house, I tell you.

In my absurd way, I'm lonely too.

It's heart-breaking, having to leave one's old home.

I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place.

Helen and Tibby were born there, and Helen says...

You too feel lonely?

Horribly.

ENGINE STARTS

- You were just saying, sorry? - Oh, just some rubbish about furniture.

Ha!

Well, you're not as unpractical as you pretend.

- I shall never believe that. - Oh, but I am quite as unpractical.

At all events, you responded to my letter very promptly.

Oh, well, I know a good thing when I see it.

I want to go over the whole house.

And as soon as I get back to Wickham Place, I'll talk it over with

Helen and Tibby, and then write to you yes or no.

Right. The entrance hall.

- It's paved. - Yes.

And that's the Bible that Charles brought back from the Boer War.

Mm!

Here we fellows smoke.

Oh, jolly!

HE CHUCKLES

You do like it? It's all rubbish, not making oneself comfortable.

- Isn't it? - Yes. Are these Cruikshanks?

Gillrays.

Shall we go upstairs?

Hm!

Does all this furniture come from Howards End?

No, all the Howards End furniture has gone to the house in Oniton.

Does... I'm so sorry.

However, I'm concerned with the house, not the furniture.

How big is this drawing room?

Um, 30 by 22. Oh, no, wait a minute.

22 and a half.

- Shall we... - Miss Schlegel? - Yes?

Miss Schlegel.

I've had you here on false pretences.

I want to speak to you about a much more serious matter than a house.

I know. I mean...

You know?

No, I mean, I... I mean...

Miss Schlegel.

Yes?

Could you be induced to share my...

- Is it probable... - Mr Wilcox, I see, I see.

I will write to you afterward, if I may.

Miss Schlegel...Margaret...Miss Schlegel, no, you don't understand.

Oh, yes! Indeed, yes.

I am asking you to be my wife.

I know. I did think...

- I know. - You aren't offended?

How could I be offended?

- I... - Mr Wilcox... - I am not of your set.

- No, you're not. - And I am much older than you.

- Yes, you are. - But I...

Mr Wilcox, you quite take my breath away.

There's no need to advance your cause.

I thought perhaps there might be.

Oh, no, indeed.

Well.

Well.

Shall we tour the rest of the house?

- Perhaps not today. - Of course.

You will have a letter from me.

We go down to Swanage to my aunt's tomorrow.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

And it's you I thank.

If it is to be no, you may say so at once.

- But I don't... - And if it is,

you can depend on my letting you the house under the same conditions.

I didn't mean to imply that I had deceived you on that.

Of course not.

And you should deal only with the house agent directly.

I would never dream of intruding myself in the person

of a landlord under...well, under circumstances which you might find awkward,

should the circumstances be. But you see what I mean?

Certainly, I do. But I'm not thinking of that.

Right.

I may order the motor car round?

That would be most kind.

Just one question.

Oh, I do wonder. I do wonder whether she's taken the house.

I hope she hasn't been hasty.

So do I. So do I.

FRONT DOOR OPENS

- Have you got the house? - Thank you, Annie.

Have you got the house?

Oh, what a nuisance! So we're as we were?

Not exactly.

Some mystery. We're to be enlightened presently.

Aunt Juley, will you ask Annie to make the tea?

We have to talk houses, and we'll be down afterward.

Mr Wilcox has made me an offer of marriage.

HELEN SIGHS

It's just like a widower. They've cheek enough for anything,

and invariably select one of their first wife's friends. That type...

But you've never conceivably... You never...

- HELEN GASPS - Oh, really!

Don't, don't, don't! Meg, don't do such a thing!

I tell you not to! I know... Don't!

- What do you know? - Don't!

- We would still see each other very often, and... - It's not a thing like that!

What has happened to you?

Meg...

Look here, sit down!

I'll sit down if you sit down.

It is a wonderful feeling, knowing a real man cares for you.

And remember, I have known and liked him for a long while now.

But loved him?

No.

But you will?

Yes. Of that I'm pretty sure.

And have settled to marry him?

I had. What is it against him?

Helen, you must try and say.

It's ever since Paul.

- What has Mr Wilcox to do with Paul? - But he was there.

They were all there that morning when I came down to breakfast.

I saw that Paul was so frightened - all his paraphernalia had fallen

so that I knew it was impossible - because personal relations

are the important thing, not this outer life of telegrams and anger.

I know Mr Wilcox's faults. He's afraid of emotion.

He cares too much about success, too little about the past.

I'd even say, spiritually, he's not as honest as I am.

Doesn't that satisfy you?

No, it doesn't. It makes me feel worse and worse.

You must be mad!

I don't intend him, or any man or any woman, to be all my life.

There are heaps of things in me that he doesn't,

and never shall, understand.

And so, with him, there are heaps of things in him -

more especially things he does - which will always be hidden from me.

He has all those public qualities that you so despise

and enable all of this.

More and more do I refuse to draw my income

and sneer at those who guarantee it.

I don't intend to correct him or to reform him.

Only connect.

That is the whole of my sermon.

I have not undertaken to fashion a husband to suit myself...

..using Henry's soul as raw materials.

It would be contemptible and unfair.

SHE SIGHS