Devotion

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1

Miss Branwell's package, Ted.

Here we are, Miss Branwell.

I think you'll find these will keep the

young ladies warm for the journey.

This is Miss Anne's and Miss Charlotte's.

Miss Emily I understand

will be with us yet awhile.

Yes, Mr Ames.

Miss Emily will remain at home.

Good day, Miss Branwell.

The Vicar's girls going into service.

What is the world coming to.

Good day, Lady Thornton,

this is indeed a pleasure.

Good day, Miss Branwell. Tell Miss

Charlotte that I received her letter.

And I am glad to accede to

her most unusual request.

Charles, give Miss Branwell the parcel.

No doubt, your niece intends to employ

it for some admirable domestic purpose.

But, but I think there must be

some mistake Lady Thornton.

There is no mistake, Miss Branwell.

Miss Charlotte writes

with a clear, bold hand.

A very bold hand, I may say.

Good day Miss Branwell.

To the Poorhouse, Charles.

Charlotte.

Charlotte.

Emily .. Anne!

Charlotte! Branwell!

Emily, Charlotte, Anne!

Elisabeth.

I am endeavouring to compose

a sermon on the virtues of silence.

And I am endeavouring

to retain my composure.

Oh, that shameless girl!

May I ask what you are talking about?

Brown wrapping-paper!

The humiliation of it.

Tabby, where are the children?

Out yonder, I reckon.

Up on the moor.

Yes, and the gooseberries uncleaned and

the potatoes unpeeled, I have no doubt.

Your children, Mr Bront.

Oh, yes.

They are always my children when

they incur your displeasure I notice.

But when you have reason to approve their

conduct, it is your brilliant nephew.

Your talented nieces.

Such occasions are

rare indeed, Mr Bront.

Oh Branwell, please. Put me down.

Let me go, Branwell, let me go.

So your brother cannot paint nor write.

Are you still of that opinion sister Anne?

I never said that.

I said it's not your place to announce

your genius at the top of your lungs.

I think I know my place, Anne. And you

very shortly, are going to know yours.

Emily! Charlotte!

Branwell, put me down!

Branwell, please.

In the middle of the stream,

Anne, is a deep pool.

At the bottom of the pool

there dwells a large eel.

Emily! Charlotte!

It is my intention to

drop you in that pool.

Let me go, Branwell or I shall drown.

Drowning was good enough for Shelley and

he was a better poet than you are, Anne.

Very well, drown me.

Branwell!

Really, your sense of humour is

becoming more warped every day.

Put her down, you great bully.

Certainly, Charlotte.

Branwell, you beast!

Branwell!

You have a very pretty nose, Anne.

Very pretty .. and

completely devoid of character.

She has a great deal more

character than you have, Branwell.

If you think that taking

positions as governesses.

To keep the wolf from the Bront door

denotes character or even intelligence.

How you enjoy misinterpreting

our sentiments, Branwell.

Anne and I have quite other reasons for

seeking employment. Have we not, Anne?

Yes, we're doing it ..

We wish to see life.

Why?

So that we may write of what we see.

Oh, you sicken me with

your idealistic prattlings.

Come down from your

complacent cloud, Charlotte.

Come down and discover that Emily and

I have more talent in our little fingers.

Than ever will exist in

your busy, noble brain.

This is our last day at home.

Please don't spoil it.

Amid the world's wide din around.

I hear from far, a solemn sound.

Remember me.

Solemn as a funeral knell.

I hear that soft voice so, so well.

Cry, oh remember me.

Do you want to see the world, Emily?

Or are you content to stay

at home and rot with me?

This is my world.

Aren't we going on with

the painting, Branwell?

No, I'm not in the mood.

Don't be foolish, Emily.

You know by now that Branwell is never in

the mood to finish what he has begun.

You see, Emily? Already she has

started to talk like a governess.

Well, wait until you've been

one for a few months.

Then we shall see whether you are so

anxious to finish what you've begun.

Branwell.

Do you know why Charlotte and Anne are

undertaking their unpleasant occupation?

I've already explained our

reasons to Branwell, Emily.

What dark mystery is this?

What are you hiding from me?

Nobody is hiding anything.

Oh your schoolgirl secrets

bore me. I'm of to The Bull.

Emily, take my things home will you.

No, Branwell.

You take your own things home with you.

I'll bring them.

Good old Emily.

I sometimes wonder if

you really understand him.

The trouble is Charlotte, I think

I understand him only too well.

For what we are about to receive may

The Lord make us truly thankful.

Amen.

Am I to understand Charlotte you've

been asking charity at Thornton Hall?

Oh, has it come?

Yes, the reward of your

shame is there, Charlotte.

Thrown at me for all the parish to see.

Yes, there it is.

You may each take a quarter.

I take a third.

And I take it now.

Emily! You pirate.

I need some of this for Stone Gap.

I mean to lead a very full life.

The recording of which, will

require a great deal of paper.

And in the peace which will

inevitable follow your departure.

I intend to write a history of

stupendous length .. so!

Be seated!

I trust we'll overlook Emily's

unseemly conduct, Papa.

Charlotte!

It is your conduct that concerns me

chiefly at the moment, Charlotte.

The prohibitive cost of paper ..

Prevents us from buying the books we need

for our "scribblings" as you call them.

But wrapping-paper, when ironed and

cleaned makes for reasonable manuscript.

You have a certain

crafty logic, Charlotte.

That is high praise from you, Papa.

Oh, you artful hyena.

Where is Branwell?

He stopped in the village to

collect the letters, Papa.

The London coach must have been

and gone at least an hour ago.

Nothing of the sort.

The coach is frequently late.

I should have like all my family

around the table on your last evening.

Oh, Papa, you talk as if we're to be gone

a year. We shall be back by Christmas.

And you are not to work too

hard while we're gone, Papa.

No. Emily, see to it

that the new Curate ..

I have not forgotten, Miss, your

forwardness in writing to the Bishop.

For once, Charlotte has made good sense.

You cannot work as you have been doing.

And hope to preserve your health.

I explained to the bishop that the parish

of Haworth is a great burden for one man.

Really, Charlotte. The extent and nature

of your correspondence staggers me.

Besides, I do not like Curates.

Their sickly faces

depress me intolerably.

And where is Branwell?

One thing is certain. Another year in

this place will be the ruin of his genius.

Aunt is willing to advance us some money,

which will repay from our salaries.

In that way Branwell can stay in London to

gain his diploma from the Royal Academy.

No sacrifice that enabled Branwell to

develop his talents would be in vain.

That's what I feel, Anne.

There's no reason why he

shouldn't leave with us tomorrow.

We could all travel as

far as Keighley together.

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