Oh!

Open the windows, Matilda, while I remove the dust sheets from the furniture.

Yes.

Poor girl will have been so shaken up in the coach.

’Tis 12 miles from Manchester.

Ought we to light a fire, do you suppose?

A fire?

In the morning?

Our guest gave us a deal of information in her letter, but I saw no mention of her being ill.

We said there was always a room for her in Cranford.

We told her there was nothing we liked more than having visitors.

Go on!

What are you doing, Matilda?

I’m only putting some cologne on a handkerchief.

I fear her head might ache.

She wrote in such distress.

There were exclamation marks.

(HORSE WHINNYING) There’s a coach pulling up!

It’s her!

Miss Deborah.

Miss Matty.

Miss Mary Smith.

It is a pleasure to see you in Cranford once again.

You did receive my letter asking if I might stay?

It was delivered but an hour ago.

Mary, dear.

You are so grown.

So very like your dear mama.

Are you sure my coming is not a trouble to you?

A trouble?

It is a joy to us that your stepmother can spare you.

Now that there are so many little Smiths at home... -Four already.

-Five.

Five?

The eldest barely seven.

My father sent you these.

-Oranges!

-They came to Manchester by railway.

-Just last night.

-By railway?

Indeed.

You’ll want them washed.

I saw this in bloom in the garden.

I thought it might look nice beside your bed.

You’re so kind.

Mary, you must miss your home.

I must.

Which is something of a nonsense, after all that was said before I left to come here.

And I cannot even tell you what was said, because it will only confirm all my faults.

I’m quite sure that you can have no faults.

I’m indiscreet, Miss Matty, and incautious.

And I do not appreciate my stepmother’s attempts to marry me off.

-You don’t wish to marry?

-No.

At least not yet.

I’m quite sure no malice is intended.

This is the room you slept in as a child.

I’ve always remembered my visits with my mother.

We’ve always liked receiving your letters.

You have such a sprightly turn of phrase.

I have loved hearing news from Cranford in my turn.

I’ve relished everything Miss Deborah wrote.

She models her tone on that of Dr.

Johnson.

And now it is you who will send the news to Manchester.

There will be a great deal to occupy your pen, though I regret you missed the incident last week.

A wagon of bricks had cause to drive down King Street, and became lodged with a pig cart headed the opposite way.

-Were people hurt?

-No, no, no, no.

But there was talk of summoning the constable.

(CLOCK CHIMING) The time.

Make haste.

You must gird your loins.

It is all go in Cranford.

(CHIMING) Calling hours are between 12:00 noon and 3:00.

No one will stay more than a quarter of an hour, just as you will not linger when you pay calls in return.

How will I know when a quarter of an hour has passed?

Am I to keep looking at the clock?

No, that would be extremely impolite.

You must keep thinking about the time and not allow yourself to forget it in the pleasure of conversation.

MATTY: But nobody will call today.

They will content themselves in sending compliments and allow you time to recover from your journey.

-Do you like to read, Mary?

-Oh, very much.

I consider reading a most worthwhile occupation.

After dinner, when there are no guests.

But we are liberal with our candles here.

We light two each evening.

(DOORBELL RINGING) (FOOTSTEPS) (LATCH RATTLING) (FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) -Dr.

Morgan’s at the door.

-"Dr.

Morgan’s at the door, madam."

-Dr.

Morgan?

But we are not ill.

-Have you changed your caps?

Observe the clock, Martha.

Calling hours have commenced.

I have, over many years in practice, acquired more patients than I fear I’m able to serve well.

Ladies, it is time for a change.

A change?

-Do you plan to retire from practice?

-I do not, Miss Matty.

But my cousin’s son, Dr.

Harrison, is to join me here in Cranford.

Your cousin’s son?

He is not, I take it, a gentleman of mature years?

He has only recently concluded his training at Guy’s Hospital -in London.

-(GASPING) London!

He studied beneath Sir Astley Paston Cooper, one of our most eminent surgeons.

But you are, of course, both assured of my continued attention, madam.

Well, have you the leisure to speak to all of your patients in person before the new young gentleman arrives?

I’m afraid I have not.

But I have had occasion to inform Miss Pole.

Miss Pole?

I shall repair to my consulting room to write to all the rest, -and they will know the news by teatime.

-Or sooner, Dr.

Morgan.

This is Cranford.

Mrs.

Forester!

Mrs.

Forester!

Mrs.

Forester!

From Paris?

Mrs.

Forester!

Something has to be said.

I am a woman of mild opinions, I’m sure we do not wish to be dressed as revolutionaries!

Mr.

Johnson has had very wild ideas since he was made mayor.

You don’t know the meaning of novelty until you hear me speak.

I have been asked by Dr.

Morgan for the loan of my maid, Bertha, and he does not want her for his own ends.

He requests her because a new young doctor is coming to live in our midst.

And Dr.

Morgan has arranged a house for him, it’ll be kept by a widow who’ll not arrive for a fortnight, was married to another doctor, and knows all about disease and surgery.

So what do you think to all of that?

That there is not sufficient sickness here to keep them entertained.

Cranford is not deficient in invalids, Mrs.

Forester.

In fact, those of frail health may soon choose it as their home.

This young man was assistant to Sir Astley Paston Cooper.

Dr.

Morgan told me so.

And Sir Astley Paston Cooper is physician to the Queen.

Oh!

Mrs.

Jamieson approaches.

Tell the men to halt the chair.

What is all this agitation?

Are the summer gloves come in?

We’ve had news of significant... Sister, has something occurred?

I think it likely.

Miss Pole is gesticulating.

...and he comes recommended by the highest in the land.

I have never heard him mentioned.

And I dine at Arley Hall!

Dr.

Morgan fancies he is getting old, and so he seeks to present his patients with a bachelor.

A bachelor?

I’m sure I should recoil from his attentions.

Her Majesty the Queen did not when she summoned him to Windsor and gave him charge of her state of health.

Windsor, indeed?

We shall see how he does in Cranford.

You are most welcome, however late.

I’m sorry.

My horse cast a shoe.

We limped five miles before we found a blacksmith.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

That’s an eye-catching coat.

It is a cutaway, is it not?

A runaway, in fact.

I had it made in London.

(GRUMBLES DISDAINFULLY) I thought as much.

DEBORAH: I would prefer it if I did not enjoy oranges.

Consuming them is a most incommodious business.

There is not such a lot of juice, Deborah, dear.

Only when they are sliced with a knife.

At home, we make a little hole in our oranges, and we suck them.

That is the way I like to take them best.

But Deborah says it is vulgar and altogether too redolent of a ritual undertaken by... By little babies.

My sister does not care for the expression "suck".

We will repair to our rooms and consume our fruit in solitude.

(SLURPING) (SUCKING) Excuse me, Dr.

Harrison, sir, but the Misses Jenkyns send their compliments and hope you’re not too fatigued from your journey.

And the honorable Mrs.

Jamieson and Mrs.

Forester have done the same.

And the Misses Tomkinson have heard you come.

And they send word that they hope you’re not missing the great... (STRUGGLING) Metro... -Metropolis?

-That’s him.

I really am quite touched by everyone’s kindness.

Oh, they always do it, Dr.

Harrison.

It’s not particular to you.

DR.

MORGAN: I will introduce you to the townsfolk gently, hmm?

They are quiet and retiring folk, in the main.

Good morning, Dr.

Morgan.

We’re doing the door today.

Bess is in bed with a hot brick to her knee.

He knows, Helen.

That’s why he’s come.

Visiting room is to your right.

And this one is a kicking "K".

It has a leg stuck out in front of it as though it’s going to kick over the... -Good morning.

-Good morning.

I’m sorry, have you come to see my father?

No, I came to see the maid, with Dr.

Morgan.

Oh.

Are you the new doctor?

Frank Harrison.

You must forgive me.

We are all at odds today with Bessie in bed.

This is a delightful room, Miss Hutton.

Oh, I worry it’s looking a little faded now.

Our mother chose the furnishings before she passed away.

Ask him, does he want some cherries?

I’ll get the rake.

DR.

HARRISON: Do cherries grow underground in Cranford?

LIZZIE: It is the only way to get them down.

May I?

Hooray!

Papa!

Why aren’t you working at your lessons, Walter?

Sophy made me work all morning.

Go back inside, and I’ll come and listen to you reading.

DR.

HARRISON: Good morning, sir.

Might I give you some advice?

I would be grateful for it, sir.

Buy a black coat.

It need not be costly.

You can order one through Johnson’s.

But black is the color of our profession.

I wear black.

The patients trust black.

I don’t doubt they think Hippocrates wore black and a powdered half-wig.

I don’t reckon that branch is gonna take my weight, Miss Tomkinson.

Happen I ought to go, eh?

Come back with a lad.

You will carry out the task I have engaged you for, and at the price we have agreed!

(SAWING) (BRANCH CRACKING) (YELLING) Oh, good God!

This is what happens when you do not take sufficient care!

Augusta, I see a bone protruding!

You’re pretty sick, Mr.

Hearne.

Do not move!

We will fetch cloths and make a compress.

JEM: I’m going back to the yard.

CAROLINE: I warned him that branch was weak.

-(SLURRING) I’m going home.

Brown trout?

Brown trout?

-Brown trout?

-What?

No, lad.

Brown trout, tuppence apiece.

Lovely fried.

-Brown trout?

-Trout?

Trout?

And whose stream did you poach these from, pray?

Mr.

Carter!

Mr.

Carter!

I tell you, this child is half gypsy and whole villain.

-What’s your name?

-Harry Gregson.

(WOMAN SCREAMING) Dear God.

(GROANS) Move out of our path.

We have an injured man.

Clear the way, please.

Thank you.

We’ve already rung the bell at Dr.

Morgan’s, but he was not in.

Show me the patient.

Bring him inside at once.

And you, don’t you dare move.

DR.

HARRISON: Is it known how far he fell?

I should think not 10 feet.

Perhaps 12.

I’ve seen accidents but nothing like that.

It is a compound fracture.

Now, Jem, I’m going to give you sugar and water to stop you shaking and a dram of brandy to try to ease the pain.

I’m a carpenter, sir.

If I lose my arm, I lose the thing I am.

Now, will I lose it?

(CONFIDENTLY) No.

I’m newly arrived.

Is there an icehouse in the district?

Yes, at Hanbury Court.

I’m Lady Ludlow’s estate manager.

Can a basketful be spared?

It might buy me time and save his arm.

You, come with me.

-What about the trout?

-The trout can wait.

So how come the ice doesn’t melt if it’s been here since winter?

Because the temperature is always lower underground.

-What’s temperature mean?

-Whether it’s hot or cold.

-You don’t go to school, do you?

-There is no school, only the one where they teach girls how to do ironing.

Any road, I wouldn’t go if there was.

No, I don’t suppose you would.

Right.

Straight to the doctor’s as quick as you can.

And if you’re caught poaching one more time, I’ll hand you over to the magistrates.

-Sorry, sir.

-Go on, run.

-DR.

MORGAN: You packed the wound in ice?

-DR.

HARRISON: To keep it cold.

It’s a new technique I heard of from the battlefield, and it should mean the surgery can be delayed.

But I must ride to Manchester immediately.

I need curved needles, and I brought none with me.

Heard of?

From the battlefield?

Heard of?

The surgery is not untried.

I have seen it carried out.

-Seen it carried out?

-Three times.

And how many of these procedures were successful?

-Two.

-There is but one safe course of action, -and you know it.

-He’s a working man.

If I amputate, he’ll starve.

If you do not, lockjaw will kill him in a fortnight!

Or gangrene will finish him in five days.

He is your first patient in this town.

If he dies, your reputation will be ruined.

If he lives on maimed, so will my self-respect.

I am going to Manchester.

Frank, I will not support you in this!

You will take his arm off at the elbow!

If Jem Hearne’s arm is broken, it’s as well he has no wife and no dependents.

He came to Cranford as a journeyman.

He has no one in the town.

He might be forced on the mercy of the workhouse.

Deborah, the candle is shorter than the other.

Then attend to it, quickly.

"Elegant economy," as we say in Cranford.

Candles are a dreadful price.

I thought they would be cheaper when the tax on them was stopped, but they get dearer every twelvemonth.

(DOORBELL RINGING) A visitor?

A visitor!

At this hour of the night!

-It’s Miss Pole.

-"It’s Miss Pole, madam"!

Oh!

How bright it is in here.

You all look very lively.

Oh, we’ve been reading and sewing, and... You will cast it all aside when you hear what I must say.

There is to be an amputation.

It will be severed at the elbow with a silver saw.

Dr.

Harrison is wonderfully quick.

He gave exhibitions at Guy’s Hospital.

I must take him a jelly, or some other soothing thing.

But we do not know where Dr.

Harrison has gone.

He rode out of town and has not come back.

Caroline meant the jelly for the patient.

Perhaps he went for tar.

He will need to seal the stump.

(HORSE PANTING) This is the last of your tea.

Bertha, I need to prepare to operate on Jem.

Can you gather all the candles that we have and bring them here?

Well, we’ve only got the two, this one and that one.

-Mr.

Johnson.

-I thought we might be seeing you.

-Sir, I’ve come to purchase... -It came from Halifax this afternoon.

It’ll be five guineas.

My wife will send you the bill.

Sir, I need candles.

The cut looks well.

You should purchase a second in a summer-weight worsted.

Sir, it is an emergency.

I need candles.

Tallow or beeswax?

Straight or plaited wick?

White wax.

I need bright light for a medical procedure.

Do forgive me, we appear to be sold out.

You must be able to get me candles.

Johnson’s Universal Stores can get you anything.

My wife will write to Manchester and they’ll be here by Friday.

MATTY: Are you quite certain?

I just this minute saw him in the street, and his head was down.

And he was not wearing the runaway.

He has changed into a black coat!

He is in mourning for his patient.

What was his precise demeanor?

As it always is.

Distinguished and capable.

And with the curls coming forward, here, just at the temples.

It’s Miss Pole.

She’s got news.

Dr.

Harrison went to Manchester.

(SHRIEKING) What care we where he went?

It would appear Jem Hearne is dead!

Martha, take that jelly from Miss Caroline and put it in the kitchen.

His first case in Cranford.

Fate has dealt him a most shocking hand of cards.

That is a most unfortunate turn of phrase.

Miss Pole, have pity.

The poor girl is distraught.

And well might be all be, with Jem Hearne dead Speculation is the enemy of calm.

Dr.

Harrison?

I’m Miss Jenkyns.

Is Jem Hearne alive or is he dead?

But if amputation is the better thing, Dr.

Harrison, if Dr.

Morgan advocates it... I’ve seen just such setting and stitching done at Guy’s, It’s not so much that it’s revolutionary to carry out this operation, more that it would be backward not to.

I do not think we would like to be called "backward" here, do you, Miss Jenkyns?

Had I been able to operate tonight, I had every hope I might be able to affect a cure, but now... Now I must wait until morning.

Why can you not proceed forthwith?

Madam, a surgeon must have light, and I find myself entirely without candles.

I have but two small stubs at home, and Johnson’s stores can offer me nothing.

And you must need half a dozen or more.

I suppose the work is delicate, -like all stitching.

-It is.

In which case, you must take these, Dr.

Harrison.

Caroline, run home and see what might be spared.

Miss Pole, I’m certain you would wish to do the same.

Nothing like this is ever done in London.

You’re not in London, Dr.

Harrison.

You’re in Cranford now.

I must proceed at once.

But I will need one other to assist.

She must be sensible and have a steady hand.

I will do it, if you will accept me.

You are a privileged man, Jem.

There are poets scouring Chinatown for opium of that quality.

Oh, aye.

I will need you to bring the light a little closer, Miss Smith.

I will set the break first, Jem.

(CRACKING) (JEM SCREAMING) There.

The bone is back in place and out of view.

Now I can begin to close the wound.

(GASPING) (JEM PANTING) We must set a date for my garden party, Mr.

Carter.

I would suggest we do not leave it late.

The park is always loveliest before the roses fade.

First, my lady, might I raise the matter of the bills Lord Septimus has charged to the estate?

They have recently increased in size and number.

Every month.

My son must be neither troubled nor questioned with regard to his expenditure.

He is at Lake Como for his health.

And thanks to your generosity, he’s already in receipt of a considerable income.

With these expenses added, the Hanbury coffers feel the strain.

Lord Septimus was my seventh child, Mr.

Carter.

And now the last surviving one.

Would you force him back to a climate that would undermine his strength?

-No, my lady, I would not, but... -For the past four years, he hasn’t even been able to come home for my garden party.

And no one relished Hanbury on Fate as much as he.

No, my lady.

Perhaps it’ll be mild this August.

If it is, he may travel yet.

Let us mount a festival that will make it worth his while.

DRIVER: Whoa!

Get that load off first.

There’ll be no light until you do.

Jem Hearne has had nothing but jelly and egg wine for a week.

If the bones are to knit, some solid food is needed.

Does rice pudding count as solid food?

Martha made this.

It could be eaten with a fork.

Shall I take it to his lodgings, madam?

No, Mary and I will go together and inspect her patient’s progress.

Sister!

The house across the way is opened up at last.

MAN: We’ll start moving these.

DEBORAH: No one in Cranford forewarned of their coming.

They must be strangers in the town.

(GASPS) Strangers!

And that is a hired fly.

Clearly they’re not carriage people.

My dear girl, we’ll soon have you inside and settled.

An invalid, and in a house that has been shut up.

We must send lavender for burning in the rooms.

I came with The Chronicle.

They printed a new remedy for blanching yellowed lace.

What an excellent perspective you have upon the scene.

It seems to be two young ladies and their father.

MISS POLE: Poor wretches.

A man is so in the way in the house.

(HORSE WHINNYING) It is Sir Charles Maulver!

Sir.

Fine day for a house move.

You’ll see that all is as you wished it.

You have done me a very great kindness, sir.

I am in your debt.

Captain Brown, I should not be here at all had it not been for your bravery.

Oh, I’ve had my medal.

Let us say no more of that.

Will you be comfortable here?

I could always find a house on the estate itself, if you think it would suit Miss Brown the better.

I’m too used to living in garrison towns.

I should feel lost if I wasn’t on the street.

When we were fighting men, I used to dream of coming home.

I thought my land was all I wanted.

With respect, sir, I did wonder if you would settle.

I’m not ready to be put out to pasture.

Still, I’ve not been idle, nor did I entice you here without a motive.

Captain Brown, are you free to oblige me in a matter of business?

The men have been quite wonderfully efficient.

The kettle was the first thing they removed from the pantechnicon.

(BELL RINGING) If you will excuse me, Sir Charles, I must go upstairs and attend to my sister.

Of course.

Though may I say, Miss Jessie, what a pleasure it is to see you looking so unaltered.

Dear God, she’s lost her bloom.

-Did she never marry?

-No one ever asked.

I don’t know if I can interest you in this enterprise.

I’m sure you can, sir.

-Well, the first point of discretion... -There’s still time.

Now come.

You’re in luck.

The ladies found themselves distracted.

They’ve never guessed.

I’ve never let ’em know.

-Are you ashamed of me?

-I’m not permitted followers.

-If they find out, I’d lose my place.

-I know.

Will it be all right?

Will it be mended when they take the stitches out?

Come here.

We’ll see.

My daughters were very grateful for the lavender.

They cannot pay calls themselves.

The elder is too ill, and the younger one must nurse her.

At present, I must represent our family alone.

You need not have troubled to return our call until the third day, Captain Brown.

-That is the custom in our town.

-Is it?

I prefer to do things promptly.

May we ask what drew you to Cranford, Captain Brown?

My poor girl’s health required a move to a milder clime.

Broadstairs was put to us as the ideal, but I’m retired and on half pay, and the expense was quite beyond us.

And Cheshire is so much cheaper.

That’s a fierce little shovel.

Aye, and is such a racket against coals.

We’ve often joked how fine it would be to have a wooden one.

Except that such a thing is never manufactured.

I wonder, have any of the ladies present read The Pickwick Papers?

How it makes me laugh.

Out loud, on occasion.

Even when I read it in a coach or on the street.

(CHUCKLING) I am an admirer of Dr.

Johnson, Captain Brown.

Mmm, he’s tolerable enough for an essay or a letter, but I’m inclined to think that he’s had his day.

Now, Mr.

Dickens, now, he’s got the skill to tell a tale.

A small token of my gratitude for the lavender.

The Pickwick Papers.

I defy you not to roar.

Hmm.

My fancy inclines towards this hat.

The Duchess of Kent is known to favor something similar.

Do you think my son will approve of it?

Last time he came home from Italy, he was faintly disparaging about my mode of dress.

I always say, "The cap that satisfies its wearer need appeal to no one else."

A most admirable philosophy.

I wish you would let me make a gift of it to you.

Lorentia, my dear, I insist you charge me as you would any other customer.

You’re not a milliner for the love of it.

But I am in your debt for your sanction of my enterprise.

When a lady doesn’t marry and lacks independent means, I think it best she’s blessed with an independent spirit.

Now, I am to interview a girl Mr.

Carter thinks will make an indoor maid.

Will you look at her with me?

-Margaret Gidman?

-Yes, my lady.

Are you well shod?

My parents keep me well shod.

And what is your father’s occupation?

He’s a cooper, madam.

I’ve been accustomed to helping him.

-To make his barrels?

-No, to cast up his accounts.

And I taught myself to read, and write a bold, clear hand.

-I could... -Enough.

Margaret, you parents have served you ill by not stopping you from meddling in this manner.

If you can read and write, I cannot possibly take you into my employ.

You’re fit only for trade.

It is becoming common for the lowest class to have some education.

The more common it becomes, the less I can condone it.

Dissatisfaction will result, as it did in France, and the proper order of the world will be undone.

You do not recall, I think, the Reign of Terror, Mr.

Carter.

I had cousins in Paris, and the knowledge of their fate will haunt me all my days.

Margaret Gidman is not blessed with a great deal of advantage.

I am most concerned with the lot of those less fortunate.

At my charitable school, the girls are taught to serve, and to know their prayers.

That is all that is necessary to fit them for the world.

Please, look there for my servants in the future.

-I don’t... -Oh, they are so sentimental.

I see Mrs.

Gregson’s been to the bakehouse.

So nice for the children to have a hot dinner on Sundays.

My dear madam.

Mum!

I was so terrified I’d spill the dinner.

Oh, it’s only a bit of gravy.

Dog’ll lick it off.

Now, come, madam.

You take my arm, and I’ll see you home.

That’ll be grand.

Thank you.

-I can take that, sir.

-Aye.

You see your mother safely home, now.

And you enjoy your dinner.

But to take her arm and offer to escort her home shows a revolting want of decorum.

Perhaps Captain Brown has been reading too much Dickens.

I think it altogether likely.

Vulgar sentiment is so contagious.

Miss Jenkyns?

I’m afraid I must beg to make a call upon your kindness.

Father!

Sir Charles has engaged me to attend to some business near Preston, and I must leave without delay and not be back for almost a week.

I will come to no harm!

Now we have the maid, I’m not so very stretched.

I would not leave my girls at all, but my poverty is such that I cannot refuse employment.

There is no need to reference your circumstances, Captain.

Should anything remiss occur, might my Jessie come to you?

We are near neighbors, sir.

To assist one another is appropriate.

-Where’s Dada?

-Gone.

Mrs.

Forester, with what do you nourish that girl?

Only ordinary meat, cooked plain.

You’ve fed her till she’s fit to pull a plough, and this is a dainty house.

Now, the buttermilk, if you please.

-Is this from your Alderney?

-I went to her at dawn today.

She was even more than usually obliging.

That cow is like a daughter to me.

-Now... -Oh!

Look... Oh, I can see why you treasure it, Mrs.

Forester.

This is the sort of lace that generally belongs to ladies of great rank.

It is from abroad, and was worked by nuns, an order where they do not speak, and so concentrate so much the better.

There.

Now, have you a shallow dish to hand?

"The collar must be completely immersed and laid flat "so that the shade will be revived in a uniform manner."

Well!

We leave the buttermilk to do its work.

I’m sorry to say, but her proportions are quite vulgar.

You must go to the charity school and get a different one.

But the school cannot account for the size of a foundling’s parents.

Agnes seemed slight when she was 12.

(SIGHING) (CAT SCREECHING) Mrs.

Forester!

The lace!

He’s choking!

He’s choking!

He deserves to choke!

If the collar were not so very old, I could not take such measures.

Stop at once!

Turn yourselves about.

There are some ladies running.

Make haste!

Pray, make haste!

Faster!

Faster!

Mrs.

Forester!

Whatever has occurred?

It’s my lace, Mrs.

Jamieson.

My best lace!

Which was made by nuns last century.

And you cannot get its like for love nor money any more, even though they have emancipated the Catholics.

-What happened to it?

-It’s in the basket, in pussy’s inside!

We’re on our way to purchase a compound.

I fear you think I have not begun well, sir.

Oh, you’ve begun extremely badly, Frank.

Your work has been the cause of talk, and of a frisson!

Cranford has been disturbed by you.

I take the bandages off Jem’s arm this afternoon.

-All will be well once that is done.

-Hmm-hmm.

Will it?

Dr.

Morgan, I swore an oath to do my best by those who came into my care.

If the well-being of the patient has, in this case, run counter to the fabric of the town, I regret it, but I stand fast.

Look, Frank.

This is Cranford.

Everything unchanging, perpetual.

A society that knows itself.

A place at peace.

(LAP DOG BARKING) Out of our way!

We are in the throes of an exceptional emergency.

Is someone in need of medical attention?

This is no occasion for sport!

There is lace at stake!

MRS.

JAMIESON: Get on!

Get on!

Faster!

It is the Major’s tall boot.

It was the Major’s mother’s lace.

And there is no need to be shod where he has gone.

(SIGHS) I am resolved.

Pray do not use it ill.

It fought at Waterloo.

Good.

(CAT PASSING WIND) (CAT MEWLING UNHAPPILY) (CAT DEFECATING) (SPLASHING) There.

I think that all looks very well.

I’m so pleased you accepted this position, Mrs.

Rose.

And I’m grateful for the loan of so much furniture.

It will be a long while before I can afford any of my own.

This way, my husband watches over you in spirit.

I assisted him for 20 years.

Answered the bell for him, mixed up the pills for him.

And I hope that a like regard will bloom between us.

(STAMMERING) Though not, of course, conjugal, but rather more like that of a mother and son.

I hope for that, too.

Miss Jessie Brown’s in the hall.

"Miss Jessie Brown’s in the hall, madam."

Please come.

She’s breaking her heart.

(SOBBING) My sister is dead.

And I’m alone in the house.

And I do not know when my father will come back.

And all I can think about is his face.

And now I’ve come unto you.

My sister is left untended.

We shall escort you home and make a bowl of arrowroot.

Mary, the compress.

If I don’t hear from father by nightfall, I shall arrange for my sister’s burial myself.

DEBORAH: I think that would be sensible.

And if he cannot come home in time, I will walk behind her coffin on my own.

Oh, that will not do at all.

Ladies never attend funerals.

But I can’t send her to her grave alone!

It would break our father’s heart if I were to tell him it was done so.

Move your fingers for me, Jem.

Take hold of this piece of paper.

Dr.

Harrison, I hope you will let me shake your hand.

You’ll have to shake mine first.

DEBORAH: That will take time, and time is an indulgence we do not have.

I think she will sleep now.

I said that I would write and tell her father.

But Captain Brown was last heard of gone to Lancashire.

How do we know where a letter can find him?

That man has put me in a most invidious position.

I’m made responsible for his daughter in his absence, and if I allow her to do as she would wish, she will be in contravention of all polite codes.

I mean, what will people think of her?

And worse, what will be said?

Miss Deborah, sometimes ladies do go to funerals in Manchester.

It is becoming the custom now.

It is not the custom in Cranford.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR) Come in.

Mary and I are about to go to bed.

Shall we tell Martha to bank down the fire?

I shall not come back to the parlor tonight.

I have a deal to think about.

And I must pray.

Jessie needs guidance, and so do I. Very well, sister.

(SOBBING QUIETLY) MATTY: I’m so afraid my sister will regret her actions.

What can they be thinking of?

But if Miss Deborah concedes to it, it cannot be amiss.

You were all alone.

No, Father, I was not.

Sorry you had to wait, sir.

Fiddly work is this.

-Need two hands.

-Yes.

-You content with it?

-I’m more than content, Jem.

Thank you.

CHILDREN: Dr.

Harrison!

HUTTON: Good evening, Dr.

Harrison.

Go on!

Cherries.

LIZZIE: Sophy and Walter picked them this afternoon.

We were remiss.

We should have given you some the day you came to call.

WALTER: They’re the last for this summer.

-Thank you.

-HUTTON: Move on.

There will be more next year!

Oh, Captain Brown.

-This is highly individual.

-It’s a coal shovel.

Manufactured from oak.

By myself.

Oh, sister.

A thing we have wished for for an age.

Miss Deborah, I hope you will accept it.

A token of my gratitude.

I assure you, sir, no such token is required.

We are no longer merely neighbors.

We are friends.