The White Cliffs of Dover Page #5

I roamed with John

beneath the old great trees

In gardens trampled down

by Cromwells armies,

Through foliage rustling

in the wet, soft breeze.

John showed with pride the

ancient lettered casement

That watched the proud

armada pass the coast,

Some of the pictured

forebears in the gallery,

And told the legend of the family ghost.

Well, here are the ancestors.

Awful lot of them, aren't there?

I thought they'd look

more solemn somehow.

Well, you see, they didn't

know they were ancestors.

They just mixed in with

whatever was going on.

Tell me about them, John.

Really? Really.

All right.

But don't forget, you

brought it on yourself.

The most noble knight,

Percy Ashwood of ash,

1233-1265.

It was probably painted

some centuries later.

Percy was killed at

the battle of Evesham.

And this is his wife,

the first lady Ashwood.

We're indebted to her

for the family ghost.

The family ghost?

No. Tell me about it.

Well, rumors of the

battle had reached her,

And as night fell, she heard

the sound of galloping hooves.

She came out onto the

steps with her ladies

And waited in the light of torches,

Hoping perhaps that her

husband was returning.

But a faithful retainer

of the family rode up,

His face white as wax

and his voice hollow

As he gave the fatal tidings.

And even while this was happening,

According to the legend,

Peasants were fishing

his body out of the river.

He'd been drowned fording the

stream more than an hour before.

It was a ghostly messenger?

Riding a ghostly horse.

Oh, John, it's wonderful.

And does the ghost still ride?

Yes, so they say.

Whenever a male of the clan

is gathered to his ancestors,

The women of the family hear

the hoof beats of the messenger

As he rides down the old roman road.

Do you believe it?

I can't say that I do.

I've a suspicion my mother does, though,

And she's a levelheaded woman.

Anyway, she doesn't like to

hear anyone laugh at the story.

This is the ancestral black sheep.

He guessed wrong on the war of the roses

And was executed for treason.

Well, Im worn out.

Aren't you fed up with us?

Not a bit. It's most exciting.

Oh.

Yes. This gorgeous officer

is the present baronet

And your humble servant.

How is it you weren't called Percy?

Well, the eldest son

is always called Percy.

I had an elder brother

who died as a child.

Here, my... wife's portrait will hang.

Oh. You must have often

wondered what she'd be like.

Yes, I have...

until a few days ago.

Then, I began to hope that she'd be...

oh, tall and fair

with a mind of her own,

And that when my great-Grandson

showed visitors her portrait,

He'd say, "this is

my great-Grandmother.

Lovely, isn't she? She was an American."

Oh, John.

You must have known.

I've been out of my mind since

I first saw you in the Adam room.

I meant to wait, give you

more time, but it's out now.

Don't say no, sue.

If you can't... give

me the right answer,

Pretend I haven't spoken.

May I do that, John?

For these few days.

I don't want to make decisions.

I just want to live and be happy.

You are happy, sue? Happy here?

When we are together, yes.

When we are alone...

what does that mean?

Please don't ask me.

It's just that-Well,

it's all so strange.

This place, your family.

Sue...

John!

John!

John?

Here, mother.

Oh, there you are. Is that miss Dunn?

Yes, of course it is.

Helen's going to sing, John, dear. I

thought perhaps you'd like to come down.

Of course. Be with you in a jiffy.

Flow gently, sweet Afton

Disturb not her dream

Thou stock dove whose echo

Resounds from the hill

Ye wild, whistling blackbird

In yon thorny dell

Thou green-Crested lapwing

Thy screaming forbear

My slumbering fair

Thank you, my dear.

That's a favorite of mine.

Yeah. Very nice. Now how

about a rubber of bridge, huh?

Oh, Rupert, it's after 10:00.

Is it?

Shall we go out into the terrace?

It's mild in this moon.

John, Helen must go home now.

Oh, mother can send for me.

No, John wouldn't hear of it.

Certainly not. I shan't be long.

It's just across the path.

Come and see us one day, miss Dunn.

Perhaps John will bring you to tea.

Do please come, won't you?

I should love it.

Come on, nuisance.

Good night, lady jean.

Good night, my dear.

Good night, all.

Good night. Good night.

Is it serious between those two?

Oh, it's one of those things-

Boy and girl sweethearts,

parents' blessing.

Yes, I suppose they're for it.

Mmm, they're a nice couple.

I should never have taken you

for an American, miss Dunn.

No?

You don't speak like one.

American women are so smart and pretty,

But their voices-

I've no doubt our voices sound

equally strange to Americans.

Yes. Enjoy London, miss Dunn?

Very much.

You stayed at the savoy, I suppose, huh?

Americans always stay at the savoy.

No, we didn't stay at the savoy.

We stayed at Mrs. Bland's boardinghouse

In Bloomsbury.

Bloomsbury?

What is it, nanny?

It's a telegram for the young lady.

Michael murphy had to get out of

his warm bed to bring it along.

It's from the ship, he says.

The young lady's father.

May I?

Of course, my dear.

I would think that some people

would say what they had to say

While they were still here

to say it, if you ask me.

Nanny?

Yes, my lady?

Thank you, nanny.

Foreign ways.

You must excuse nanny.

She's brought up all my children,

So she thinks she has

the right to bully us.

Better get Helen and John married

And keep her busy with a new generation.

I hope your father's

recovered from our climate.

I suppose you'll find our houses cold.

I suffocated in new York.

Don't know how you stand it.

Great city, though,

when you get used to it.

Yes, I met some quite nice people there.

You speak as though that

were rather surprising.

Well, I must admit, Id only

met the traveling Americans,

And the traveling American... you know.

Remember those dreadful people

we bumped into in Rome, my dear?

But miss Dunn isn't a

bit like an American.

You don't mean to be rude, do you?

No, of course not.

Why, whatever-

On the contrary, it was

intended as a compliment.

But sooner or later, you all

say something of the kind.

"So you're an American, miss Dunn?

Really? You don't speak like one.

So you're an American, miss Dunn?

Really? You don't act like one."

My dear, my sister had no

intention of offending you.

Just the same, it was

tactless. Utterly tactless.

Well, upon my word.

It's a compliment not to be

like an American. How insulting.

A compliment not to

speak like an American.

I suppose if you wanted to

be altogether flattering,

You'd say I was quite English.

Well, I shouldn't be flattered at all.

I'm glad and proud to be an American.

Bravo, bravo.

I came here loving England and all it

meant to me. I was happy to come here.

I was so sure Id like

you all because of John.

I hoped you'd like me.

My dear-

But I was an outsider. I didn't belong.

You made that perfectly clear.

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