My Stories

by SusanTernyey, Aug 2025

Marriage:  James & Letty Onedin

It’s been about 3 years since James sought a match with first Caroline Maudslay (a poor choice for him) and then Leonora Biddulph (who might have made a good match, but by the time he realized it, he lost her to Cousin Richard Onedin, something like a younger version of himself, more her age).

Now his daughter is 9, and her Governess, Miss Leticia Gaunt, is bringing her to see her father. He’s never met this governess, he wasn’t the one who hired her. He doesn’t know what to expect, but the name sounds daunting.

The relationship between James and Letty lasted over 4 seasons, but those 4 seasons covered a period of about 10 years or so. It’s difficult to tell exactly, because the dates and ages have been fudged somewhat.

Although this post is meant to focus on James’ & Letty’s relationship, their lives were intertwined with others, especially family members, and the family has grown in more ways than one. One of those ways is in complexity. Other relationships, other themes, will be a part of this, and their story: Family, Self-determination, Business Sense, Friendship, Health & Welfare, Loss & Grief, Faith (religious, superstitious), Justice/Goodness/Character.

Note:  not every episode had a part that Letty played, and her part in each episode varied.   To have included everything from every episode would have distracted too much from this theme, as well as made this post much too long–long as it is already.  You can always skip to the conclusion.

S4 E4—James falls for Letty Gaunt, Charlotte’s governess  
     Shipowner James Onedin is barely in the door of his empty, closed up house, getting the news from Capt. Baines on the state of shipping, when he opens a letter that elicits a “Good grief,” from him.
     “Sir?” Capt. Baines seeks an explanation with a word.  “Me daughter’s coming.”  “Miss Charlotte?” Baines asks, not because he doesn’t know, but as the kind of rhetorical question conversations embrace when the conversants are trying to take in unexpected information.
     “If I may presume on your paternal affection for your daughter,” James reads, “I propose bringing her to see you on the 18th of this month.  We shall come by railway.  I am, sir, your obedient servant and governess to your daughter, Leticia Gaunt . . . Miss.”  
     “Governess? . . .” Capt. Baines looks around at the room with some care for the way it looks, furniture covered, no doubt needing some TLC.  “Well, Miss Moffatt will soon put the house to rights, sir.”  He starts to pull off the furniture coverings.  James considers the room, and else, as he says, “You don’t think I kept on the housekeeper while I was away . . .”  Mrs. Moffatt was hired by Sarah, for James (S4 E1).  I liked her, I was sorry to see her not kept on.
     “Oh, I can send a telegraph, eh?  No need for them to come all the way up here.  I can go down to Derby and see them.”  He starts looking for paper and a writing utensil.  “Is that where they are, sir, Derby?”  “Aye.”   Derby is over 90 miles SE of Liverpool, about midway in England, west to east.  These days about 2 hours.
     “She’s looked after by a Miss Mullen, one of Sarah’s aunts,” James tells Baines.  In episode 1 of season 4, Sarah makes a disparaging comment about James having sent Charolotte to live with a governess.  Did she arrange for Charlotte to be moved in with her aunt?
     “How old is she now?” Capt. Baines asks to be reminded.  “Nine?” James thinks.  He’s not the only parent that has a hard time keeping up with children’s ages, moreso when they are less frequently seen.
     “Must be all of that since her mother died,” Baines takes Anne’s picture in hand.  Apparently it has been long enough that James doesn’t get angry or dour at the mention of Anne’s passing.
     “I’m eager enough to see me daughter, but it’s this governess I don’t like the sound of.  Leticia Gaunt.  When’s the 18th?”  “That’s tomorrow, sir,” Capt. Baines suddenly remembers.  “Hmm . . . oh!” the impending nature of the unlooked-for event shows on James’ face.

     James is on his hands and knees frantically sweeping the carpet with a handheld broom.  A knock on the door is followed by Baines’ voice, “May I come in, sir?  The front door is open.”  “Yeah, come in.”  James hurriedly wipes the couch and stuffs the cloth under the leather cushion.
     “What time is it?” James asks, as Baines comes in all dressed up.  “Getting on for 3, sir,” Baines answers.  “Oh, the train’s due at quarter to,” James groans.  “Anything I can do, sir?” Baines offers.  “Aye, uh, close those windows, will ya?  
     “We finished discharging the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’.  There’s no cargo to take on till tomorrow.  Is there anything I can do while you’re with your daughter, sir?”  “Well, I thought to take ‘er down to the quayside.  Show ‘er some of the ships, eh?  Hey, maybe even take ‘er sailing.  She’d like that, eh?”
     “Perhaps, but I can’t rightly see a governess taking to it, sir,” Baines supposes.  “I mean she might hate the sea.”  “Eh, yes, I expect she would be a little fatigued after ‘er journey.  I’m sure she’d be very pleased to stay here . . . with you,” James suggests as he rushes around finishing dressing.  “With me, sir?” Baines is doubtful.  “It would be very ill-mannered to leave an old maid on ‘er own.”  “Oh now, Mr. Onedin . . .” Baines has been required to do a lot of hard things by James, but entertaining what he would suppose to be an educated prim and proper spinster governess makes him very uncomfortable.
     “Oh, come on, you did offer,” James literally points out.  “Ah, but I was thinkin’ o’ business, I mean, one of us ought to be on the Exchange.”  In a later episode we learn how loathe Baines is to do business at the Exchange, and here he’s willing to exchange that for conversing at any length with a governess. “Well, business can wait, eh?” James says uncharacteristically.
     “Well, I’d be no company for a young lady’s governess, sir, what do I do?”  James has to think a moment, “Keep ‘er company.  Make conversation.”  “Who? Me, sir?  With a governess?”  Poor Baines.  What a situation for him.
     Suddenly from the hall comes a young voice, “Papa!”  “Here. Quick! Give us a hand,” James hands Baines his coat.  “Papa?” a cute little girl dressed very nicely is at the doorway.  “Charlotte,” James greets her kindly.  “Well, you have grown a bit.”  He reaches a hand out to her with a smile.
     “Charlotte?” we hear a door and a female voice, as James looks back at Baines with some pride.  In comes rushing an attractive woman, “Oh, I am sorry, sir.  I was paying the cabman.  Well, you should have knocked, even if the door was open,” she gently chides the girl.  “You shouldn’t just walk in like that.”  James’ brow rises.  “I’ve no influence over ‘er at all, sir.  And I’m supposed to be ‘er governess,” she smiles with laughing eyes.  “Isn’t it awful?”  
     “Oh, I’m pleased to meet you.  My name’s Letty Gaunt.”  She extends her hand, and James takes it to shake it.  
     Once the adults are seated, Letty tells the story of their travel while she’s fixing Charlotte’s locks.  “So, the porter says, ‘All aboard’, and we still don’t know where we’re goin’.  So what does Miss Onedin do then, if you please?  She goes up and asks the driver.”  Everyone chuckles at that.
     “He should know,” James smiles.  “London, says ‘e,” Letty goes on.  “London?” James asks, amused.  “So you see, we would have taken the wrong train,” Charlotte tells all.  “What with ‘er remembering I’d left the luncheon basket in Miss Mullen’s carriage, and pickin’ up the tickets when I dropped them on the platform, well goodness only knows how I’d have managed without ‘er.”
     “Well, uh, how long have ya been ‘er governess, then, eh?” James asks.  “Well, that’s a good question.  I was taken on by Miss Mullen’s housekeeper to do some needlework.  Well, you know, mendin’ sheets and curtains, like.  Charlotte here used to help me.  And then one day Miss Mullen asked me ‘ow ‘er Latin and Greek were advancing.”
     “Latin and Greek?” James wonders at.  “Yes, it seems that she thought the child should ‘ave a governess, and seeing me about the house, thought she’d engaged one . . . I’m afraid Miss Mullen is a bit like that.  Well, naturally I packed my bags at once.  And then madam ‘ere, goes into one of ‘er tantrums.  And to keep ‘er quiet, I’m told to be ‘er governess.”
     James leans forward and good-naturedly asks, “And does madam often go into tantrums, eh?”  “Sometimes I do,” Charlotte admits.  “Not for long,” Letty puts her arm around the girl and pulls her close, “’cause I’d give ‘er a good slap.  But then she slaps me back, and the next thing you know we’re rolling on the floor in fits of laughter.  I’m afraid we laugh quite immoderately at times,” Letty lets on.  “Miss Mullen’s often complaining of the fact.”  “Poor Miss Mullen,” Charlotte says.  “Aye, poor Miss Mullen,” James laughs.
     “Well, Miss Onedin, how would you like to go down to the quay and explore one of your father’s ships, eh?” James asks his daughter.  She jumps up, “Oh, may I?”  “Aye,” James tells her, and Capt. Baines gets up quickly to escort her.  
     “Did anyone ever tell you that you were named after one of ‘em?” Capt. Baines asks Charlotte.  “And as it happens, she’s in the harbor right this moment,” James adds.  “Capt. Baines, introduce Charlotte to ‘er elder sister.”  “Aye, aye, sir,” Capt. Baines salutes grandly.  “Come on, young lady,” Baines is practically dragged along by Charlotte, asking him “Can I go down into the hold?”  “Miss Guant and I’ll follow you soon, eh?” James calls after them.
     James sits back down, stiffly straight, across from Letty.  She starts tidying the tea things.  “I confess, you’re not at all what I expected,” he confesses.  “More’s the pity,” she replies without stopping or turning to look at him.  “I’m not sorry,” he admits.  
     “Well you should be,” she looks at him directly.  “I’m no more suited to educate your daughter than Miss Mullen is to bring ‘er up.”  She indicates for him to set his tea cup on the tray she’s holding.  “Now you’re gonna ‘ave to make some new arrangements, Mr. Onedin.  Charlotte can’t possibly stay where she is any longer.”
     “My daughter will have no need of Latin and Greek,” James asserts.  “You taught ‘er to sew, read, write.”  “There’s more to education than that, Mr. Onedin,” Letty lets on.  “Well, then let her go to school,” he schools her.  “There’s no school within 10 miles,” Letty schools him right back.  “Miss Mullen seems to think that you’re fit enough to have charge of ‘er schoolin’.”
     “Miss Mullen is totally indifferent to Charlotte’s schooling.  Indeed, Miss Mullen is totally indifferent to Charlotte."  James' brows furrow at that.  “I see . . . I’m sure you make up in affection anything denied to ‘er by this Miss Mullen.”  Having walked around the room, James stops behind where Letty sits and leans on the back of the couch.  “Aye, and she returns it, now that’s plain to see,” he points out with his finger pointing at her, though as he’s behind her, she can’t see it.  
     “Yes,” Letty turns to him, “She’s beginning to regard me as ‘er mother!”  “Oh?” he walks around to the other side.  “That’s why I feel compelled to start looking for another situation.”  “Well why?” he bends toward her.  “Because I’m growing altogether too fond of her, you silly man! . . . Oh, I’m so sorry.”  Though he lifts a brow, he’s plainly not offended.
     “Hmm, well, we’d better go and join them, eh?  We’ll talk about it later.”  He strides over to the door and holds it open for her.  
 
    “This was my first ship, the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’,” James tells Letty as he leads her onboard.  “This is the ship you called Charlotte’s elder sister.”  “Yes,” he says as he lends her a hand at the last step.  “Mr. Onedin, have you considered where Charlotte and I’ll be sleeping tonight?”
     “At my house,” he tells her easily.  “Oh?” she says cautiously.  “I’ll be sleepin’ aboard the ship,” he explains, and she seems satisfied.
     “What’s down there?” Charlotte asks, looking below deck.  “Oh, that’s the seamen’s quarters,” Capt. Baines tells her.  “Sling yer hammock down there over yer sea chest, and look out for cockroaches.”  He knows how to curb curiosity.  “Ewww.  Cockroaches.”  He chuckles and with a hand ready to play the part, says “And they’ll chew your toenails right off!”
     They see a seaman climbing aloft, and Charlotte asks, “Ooh, can I go up there?”  “Oh, you better not, or we’ll both be for it.  Come on,” he takes her hand.  “Here’s your father.”  “Now what tales has Capt. Baines been tellin’ ya?” her father asks.

     In the next scene James has taken Letty and Charlotte sailing in a small boat on the smooth-as-glass river.  They are all enjoying themselves immensely, from their faces and body language, and it’s so very good to see James smiling and so utterly happy and without cares to crease his brow.
     Later that evening, James delights his daughter with a rope trick.  He has loops of cord in his hand, “And the jolly old sailor says, Heave away on the rope.”  Charlotte pulls on the cord, and out it comes from his hands with knots at even intervals.  She laughs and wants him to do it again, but Letty tells her “Oh, no, no, no.  Come on, off to bed with you.”  Charlotte’s already dressed for bed, her hair tied in pieces of cloth.  “Goodnight, Papa,” she says and kisses him.  He wishes her goodnight.
     “Goodnight, Aunt Letty,” Charlotte kisses her, and Letty wishes her, “Goodnight, love.”
     “She’s very devoted to you, Mr. Onedin,” Letty says.  “Eh, doesn’t even know me,” he replies, in admission of how little time he has spent with her.  
     “Perhaps that’s why,” Letty surmises.  “I’m told that those who do, know you as an ogre,” she says gently.  He doesn’t take it gently.  “So . . . you think I’m an ogre, do you?” he responds gruffly,  She laughs, “I don’t know you, do I?”
     “What time are you thinking of leaving tomorrow?” James asks her.  “The afternoon train,” she answers.  “I hope by then you’ll have given some thought to what we spoke about yesterday.”
     “Bring ‘er round to the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’ in the mornin’, will ya?  You know the way.”  “Mr. Baines tells me that that was your first ship,” Letty says.  “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly.  “First child, in a way,” Letty goes back to comments made earlier in the day.  “Perhaps,” James says without admitting any truth to it.  “And to some fathers, the elder always comes first, is that it?” she gently probes.
     “[I] always put business first, if that’s what you mean,” he speaks gruffly again.  “Now I am seeing the ogre, aren’t I?” but she is still bemused.  “Hmm . . . trouble is, the ogre’s getting long in the tooth.”  He sits back down across from her, with the drink he’s just poured for himself.  “Now the question is, shall I let him?” he asks both her and himself.
     So just how long in the tooth is James?  If Charlotte is 9, and was born in 1872, as I figure, this would be about 1881.  If James was in his mid-20s or so in 1860, when the series began, he’d now be mid to late 40s:  long enough to feel it, especially with how hard he has worked and the stresses of those 20 odd years.
   “What d’ya mean?” she asks. “Well, I can afford to take things a bit easier now, not put business first . . . Something inside of me says, No,” he admits.  “That doesn’t alter your responsibility to Charlotte,” she is not afraid to tell him, no matter she is in his employ, and has only met him a day or so ago.  
     “But isn’t it better she’s brought up by somebody who can always be with ‘er, than a father who can’t be?”  “Yes, as long as that someone truly loves ‘er, and is always with ‘er,” Letty allows.  “As you could be!” James pursues, and gets enthused.  “Listen, there’s this house I know, it’s up for sale.  I take it you wouldn’t mind Charlotte treatin’ ya like a mother, if legally you were.”  “What? Mr. Onedin, if you’re suggesting what I think you are . . .”
     “Now look.  I can have a solicitor draw proper legal papers.  I’d leave you money, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that, and Charlotte could go to school.  And you wouldn’t have to worry about being a governess.”
     “Just about being a mother,” Letty hardly knows what to think, I expect.
     “She’s never had a proper home before,” he admits at last, after all the times he has insisted that his daughter was well taken care of.  See S3 E13, for instance.  “So far, I’ve never found anybody high enough in my esteem that I could entrust her to.”  And yet, he did entrust her to his brother and wife, and then obviously Sarah’s aunt, seemingly some governess between the two, at least (see S4 E1).
     “She’s not a parcel, Mr. Onedin . . . D’ya think ya know me well enough?”  It’s a fair question.  He has hardly known her less than a  a day.  And yet he is obviously drawn to her, attracted to her, no doubt sees an honesty and a genuineness in her, beside her obvious caring for his daughter.  Perhaps his experiences with Caroline and Leonora have caused him to recognize better who would be a suitable mother to his daughter, and to value a relationship that would benefit his daughter.  Perhaps the loss of them has made him more wise in the placement of his own affections.  Perhaps his experience with Caroline helped him to be more open, and to let go of Anne enough to see life beyond her.
     “Aye, I do,” he answers Letty’s question.  Letty is thoughtful, this is deep water, what undercurrents, and are they dangerous?  “We’ll have to see what Charlotte has to say,” both recognizes that she really cares how this would affect Charlotte, and it gives her a chance to be non-committal at this point.
     “Oh, she’ll love it.  Look, talk to ‘er, by all means, and tomorrow we can go and see that house, eh?  I know you’ll both be very happy,” James no doubt hopes so, thinks so, and it’s a situation that he expects to be happy with.  They will be close, yet have their own spaces/places.  He feel sure that Charlotte will be happy with a stable, loving, mother figure; he thinks that Letty will be happy with a stable situation with a daughter-figure who loves her.  He can feel like he has found a good home situation for his daughter, with a person he likes as well.  Yet he isn’t committed to something he fears:  total commitment.
     He bids her goodnight, and she the same.  

     Next day James, Charlotte, and Letty are out for a picnic.  Charlotte tells her father, “Letty says we’re going to live in Liverpool.”  “Perhaps,” her father wisely doesn’t immediately make promises that may come to break her heart.  
     “But your father won’t be living with us, Charlotte,” Letty clarifies.  “Why not?” Charlotte sees no impediments.  
     As they sit dividing up the food with a blanket spread on the grass by the river, James and Letty exchange glances, and Charlotte notices, with the smile children get when they see there might be hope of being part of a real family.    
     As it’s time for Charlotte and Letty to leave, James tries to explain, “You see, Charlotte, it’s not considered right for a man and a woman to live together in the same house unless they’re married.  But I shan’t be far away, eh?” Seeing Charlotte’s sad face he seeks to please, “Hey, if that house we saw this morning doesn’t prove suitable, we can always find another one.  It may not be in Liverpool,” he admits, “but I’ll come and see you,” he promises, “often as I can.”  He gives himself a loophole, not thinking it may hang him.  
     Letty comes in, “Come along, Charlotte.  We’ll miss that train.  We promised Mis Mullen we’d be back before nightfall.”  Charlotte suddenly has the answer to everything, “Papa, you could live with us if you did marry Letty.”  James pulls back with a little surprise.  “Charlotte!” Letty chides her in a sharp whisper.  She tries to ease the awkward moment by telling Charlotte, “Run outside and see if the cab’s there.  Go on, quick.”  Charlotte says, “Goodbye, Papa,” and gives him a kiss before leaving.
     “You see, I’m not ready to settle for the chimney corner yet.” James tries to explain or alleviate the awkwardness himself.  “It was the child who asked, not me.  Goodbye, Mr. Onedin,” Letty turns to walk out the door.  
     “Letty, you will stay with her, though, won’t you?” James hopes.  “Well, we can’t let her down on that as well, can we?” Letty replies, and leaves.  
     James is left to himself, and he fiddles with the knotted cord of the previous night.  Suddenly he leaves the house.  
     The writers increase the tension with an accident on the wharf, which doubles as a street, on which Charlotte and Letty travel in a carriage toward their train.  
     James comes running after them.  He runs past the accident they had just passed.
     Letty and Charlotte wave to Capt. Baines as they pass him.  James comes running up, and Baines says, “Going back to Derby, are they sir?”  That recalls James to the world he knows.  “Oh yes . . . Aye, well . . . If you want me I’ll be at the Exchange.  Get some business.”  He composes himself and goes on about his usual business.  Capt. Baines looks a little thoughtful, then the touch of a smile sneaks onto his face.

S4 E7—James attends to Charlotte with Diphtheria, Letty lords it over him
     Now that Letty & Charlotte live closer, presumably Charlotte does see more of her father than when she was living a 2-hour train ride away in Derby, but probably not as much as she wishes, nor as much as Charlotte’s loving “governess“ Letty would like her to see him.  From the conversations above, it would seem Charlotte is attending some sort of school, so Letty is more a caregiver than an actual governess, but she still carries the title, at least. 
     Having received a note that Charlotte has contracted diphtheria, James leaves his office in haste.   Nine years or so having passed since Anne’s death, and having Charlotte nearby in the care of the caring Letty (whom James is attracted to), he seems to be able to have a more caring relationship with his daughter.
     As he sits by the bedside of his dangerously ill daughter, Letty tells him in a whisper, “She’s sleeping now.  The doctor thinks she might have a chance.  He put the tube in her throat.  She was choking.  It was dreadful, dreadful.”
     “How long has this been?” James asks in a husky whisper.  “Four days she was taken poorly,” Letty answers.  “Four days?” James asks with some peevishness.  “I didn’t know what it was at first.  She seemed a bit pale and rather cranky.  I took her temperature.  It was up, but not alarmingly so.”  James’ expressions change from challenging to nodding approval, to the look of a concerned parent at his sick child’s bedside.
     Letty continues, “I put her to bed and gave her a little broth.  I thought it no more than a childish ailment.  And then last night, well, fortunately, I had taken to sleeping in her room.  She had difficulty in breathing.  Naturally, I called the doctor immediately.”
     “Aye, well, I’d better see the nurse,” James gets up to do so.  But Letty tells him, “There is no nurse.  I can deal with everything that’s necessary.”  At the door James turns to say, “Four days . . . you can’t have slept a wink!”  “I assure you, I can manage,” Letty tries.  “No you can not manage,” James tells her sternly, “Miss Gaunt, you must learn to delegate responsibility.  Now, who does the cooking, the cleaning?”  “Well, I do.  It’s only a small house,” Letty describes the home that James bought for her and Charlotte to live near him (though she summons a cab for him to get home).
     “Yes, well, I hired you as a governess, not a skivvy.  I want you to hire a cook and a housemaid, and 2 nurses to work turn and turn about.  Hmm?” he asks not as a question, but as an order to be agreed to.  “Yes, Mr. Onedin,” Letty takes her orders.  “I know you meant well, but we must think of what’s best for Charlotte.  I want a couple of Nightingale nurses, not yer gin-soaked drabs.”  Not like Anne had when she was in “hospital”.  
     “What will you do?” Letty asks her boss.  “I shall wait here.” he pulls a chair close again and sits as she leaves to do his bidding.  

     A nurse comes into Charlotte’s room where Letty has fallen asleep in her chair at the foot of the bed.  She walks past the sleeping James in his seat at his daughter’s bedside, and opens the window curtains to let in the light of day.  James awakens as the nurse touches Charlotte’s forehead.  Charlotte’s eyes flutter awake.  She smiles to see her father there, and he smiles back at her.  Letty has also awakened, and smiles at her charge.  

     James, needing a shave, looks around the door of his company office, and seeing his partner & brother Robert at the desk, asks, “What on earth are you doin’ here?”
     “How’s Charlotte?” Robert asks.  
     “Past the crisis, thank God.”  “Amen to that,” Robert says kindly.  “What arrangements have you made for ‘er?”
     “I left Miss Gaunt in charge,” James says as he pours himself a drink.  “I seemed to be gettin’ in ‘er way.  Huh,” he chuckles, “Quite lost ‘er patience with me . . . Bustled me out of the house.  Remarkable woman, that, you know.  Remarkable.”

     James sits asleep beside the sleeping Charlotte, whose countenance is still damp with sweat from illness.  (He’s still wearing his wedding ring).  Letty comes in quietly with a silver service on a tray.  She sets it on the dresser, then goes to the two sleepers and disengages their hands.  James awakens and comments that Charlotte is asleep, and Letty tells him that they’ve both been asleep for 3 hours.
     “I’ve brought you supper.” Letty tells him.  “Three hours, eh,” James touches Charlotte’s brow.  “She’s certainly on the mend,” he says in a whisper.  “I know.  That’s why I’ve packed off those two nurses,” Letty announces.  “It’s no good keepin’ a dog, and barkin’ yourself.  I can take over from now.”  She sets the tray on his lap and lifts the lid to reveal what she’s brought for him to eat.  
     “Rabbit pie,” he seems pleased.  “While you’re eating up, I’ll go and get a hansom [cab].”  “Oh?” he asks.  “Well you have got a business to attend to, and a good night’s sleep is what you need.” Despite he’s just had a 3 hour nap.  Of course, it was sitting in a chair, and may have been preceded by hours of wakeful watching.  
     “I think you enjoy bossing me around, don’t you?”  “Well, someone’s got . . .” she leaves her sentence unfinished, but we know her meaning.  “Huh?” James almost dares her to finish.  “Nothing,” she says and exits the room.  He starts to eat, and Charlotte, who has awakened without notice from the adults, smiles at her father. 

S4 E10—A Family Christmas party
     Letty brushes Charlotte’s hair in the parlor decorated for Christmas.  It’s bedtime.  “Oh, Charlotte, you want to look your best,” Letty encourages her.  “Your father will expect it.”  “He’s not even here,” Charlotte replies.  “He will be,” Letty assures her.  Charlotte asks, and receives permission to stay up.  It’s Christmas Eve.
     “Who else will be here then?” Charlotte inquires.  Letty isn’t sure.  Certainly James and Letty, though Letty says she’s not getting up early.  “Aunt Letty,” Charlotte calls her, “I’ve only got presents for you two.”  “Oh, we’re honored.”
     With a bang of the front door James arrives with a pile of presents in his arms.  He leans down for Charlotte to hug him, as she has run to him for that embrace.  “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed or something?” asks the absentee father.  “Letty said I could stay up,” Charlotte defends.  “Oh, Letty said, eh?” James answers as adult relatives would.  
     “And she said you’d come.  I didn’t think you would, like last year,” Charlotte says without bitterness.  “Well, I stand corrected then,” James looks to Letty, who tells him, “She can have an hour, I said.”  “You didn’t.  You just said stay up,” Charlotte amends.  “Here.  We both stand corrected.  Right.  Uh, I’ll get us all a drink then, eh?”  While he does that, Charlotte carefully handles the gifts wrapped.

     Letty joins James who sits next a blazing fire in the parlor.  She takes up her drink and tells him, “She seems settled.  I told her she could stay up tomorrow night.”
     “Here.  Did you remember to hire those 2 maids?” James asks her.  “Yes.  Seems strange being away from your own family.  We’re usually together at Christmas, crowding out the house, eating too much,” Letty reminisces a bit.
      “I’m very grateful to you for coming,” James leans in to say.  She laughs.  “What are you laughing at,” he asks.  “Oh there’s no need to be grateful, Mr. Onedin.  Quite glad to get away from them.  Families can be too much, especially at Christmas,” she foreshadows.
     “Oh, now there I’ll disagree with ya.  Now I’ve done something this year I’ve never done before,” he sits back with a proud smile.  “I’ve planned this Christmas.”

     James’ family Christmas party seems to be going well—a toast, talk, and tales of their childhood are accompanied with good humor and laughter.  But then the party is interrupted by Capt. Baines, angry that his illiterate sister with 3 children have been made homeless—evicted--living on the street in the cold and snow because of James’ expansion project.  Years earlier Baines’ sister lost her home due to Yellow Fever that was brought into port by men James had hired to sail in the “Samantha”.  Baines has had all he can take, and at last he can no longer keep the promise he had made to Anne to always stand by her husband.  James didn’t know about Baines’ promise, nor his niece.   James’ contractor had kept her from contact.  But that’s no comfort to Capt. Baines.  He leaves, vowing their relationship is at an end, even when James goes after him and tries to reconcile.
     Then other family quarrels come to the surface, and the party is broken up.
     Letty comes down the stairs with cups.  “What are you doing out here all on your own?”  “Family life,” he answers her, knowing she’ll remember their previous conversation.  “There’s not a room I can get away from them,” he laments.  
     Letty takes the cups into the parlor and sets the cups on the table, about which the family had so lately laughed.  She picks up some of the toys and sits in a chair by the fire.  James follows her in and reseats himself at the head of the table.
     “Thought I ought to keep myself to myself, but now that they’ve retired, I didn’t think you’d mind my coming in,” Letty excuses herself.  “They haven’t retired, they never will.”  She looks at him affectionately, and he smiles as he leans back contentedly.
     Note:  at the Christmas party we get a clue that the relative ages of Charlotte and her 2 cousins—who are supposedly 10-12 years older than her--are not being depicted as that much older than her.

S5 E1--Letty and James adjust to James’ change in fortunes
     Season 5 is meant to be 5 years since season 4.  Insurgents confiscate James’ vast undertaking of Port Baines in South America (supposedly Brazil in season 4, but in an unspecified country in season 5).  From being a wealthy man with immense prosects, James is now deeply in debt, his company assets are being seized and sold.  A man named Macaulay is circling Onedin interests like a shark.  
     Before news of the loss of Port Baines, James’ sister Elizabeth has inquired about a young ladies’ academy suitable for Charlotte.  It’s highly recommended, expensive, and in London.  Elizabeth and Letty have had at least 6 years’ acquaintance, and apparently are quite good friends.  So Elizabeth is concerned about what would happen to Letty if Charlotte went away to school.
          “Well, I expect I shall find another position.”  Even longstanding nannies and governesses are not always considered indispensable.  “Naturally I shall miss Charlotte,” Letty is really attached to her, as Charlotte is to Letty.  “Only Charlotte?” Elizabeth asks pointedly.  “Well, the whole family,” Letty avoids the real question.  
     “I didn’t mean the whole family, Letty,” Elizabeth pursues.  “No, I know you didn’t,” Letty admits.  “Why, has [James] never broached the subject?” Elizabeth continues questioning.  “No . . . well . . . When he was leaving on this last voyage, just before I went ashore, he went very red in the face, and he muttered something about settling down.  And you know, sometimes I could shake him.”  “Nothing in his letters?” Elizabeth asks yet more.  
     “Letters?!  7 in 2 years!  And all of them about South America!.” Letty lets on with humor.   

     On his return to Liverpool, James walks into the dark parlor of his home, furnishings all sheet-covered.  He lifts the window shade, begins uncovering the furniture.  Letty comes quietly in the door, and their faces meet over the couch he is uncovering.
     “I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.  “I’ve still got the key,” she shows him.  “Ah, you’re, uh, you’re looking very well, Miss Gaunt,” he appreciates with a cock of his head and lift of his eyebrows, the hint of a smile.  
     “Thank you.  I came round to attend to all this,” she takes over.  “I didn’t expect you quite so soon.  “Ah.  Made a fast passage,” he returns.  “Oh, you’ve lost some weight,” she notices.  He looks down and pats his stomach.  “Ah, I’ll have to go to the tailor, eh?” he says as they exchange brief smiles.  
     “Well, then, how’s my daughter, eh?” he asks as he pulls out a cigar, walks toward the window, and begins to open the other shades.  “Well, Charlotte’s quite a young lady.  You’ll hardly recognize her.  She’s of an age, now, when she should go away to school to be . . . well, you know, finished.  Turned into a lady.  Something I couldn’t do in a million years,” she says with amusement.  “I took the liberty of writing to a young ladies’ academy.  It’s been very highly recommended.”
     “Academy?” he asks, “Oh, now where’s that then, eh?”  “Hampstead.  It’s just outside London,” she informs him.  “The fees are some £140 per annum.  Now I know that does sound expensive, but if you were to dispense with my services, and close up our little house . . .”
     “What. . . have you leave the house?  No, no.  I wouldn’t want that,” he hastens to say.  “Oh?” she turns to him for something more explicative.  “Well, what I mean is, uh, I can’t afford it,” again his eyebrow raises.  She turns her pretty face to him, and her brows rise as well. “I see,” though she doesn’t know yet what all there is to see.  “Well, thank goodness I didn’t tell Charlotte.”  She turns a bit coquettishly back to the furniture at hand.  He smiles as he watches her go out of the room, arms loaded with sheets.
 
    When James was captured by the insurgents in Port Baines (named for Capt. Baines before the falling out), Capt. Baines (along with a captain in James’ employ) had rescued him.  Thus, James and Baines were reconciled.
     James walks toward his ship at the dock and sees Capt. Baines seated forlornly looking out at the water of the Mersey.  James walks over to him, “Baines . . .”  The old captain turns to look, “Afternoon.  I was hoping I might see you, sir . . . I just had some harsh words with your sister.  She blames me for handing over my command.  She said I should have put the ship first and you second.”
     “She’s quite right,” James tells him.  “I know, but I don’t like being told by a woman, and I said so.  The upshot is that I’m on the beach.”  “Well, you’re in good company,” James commiserates, and starts to walk along the quay.  Baines gets up and follows.  “How do you mean?”  “I mean I’ve just lost everything.  Every ship I own taken by the bank,” James lays it out flat.
     “What?” Baines asks.  “Well, at least that’s their intention,” James answers.  Then he turns to look at Capt. Baines, “I’ve got six ships out there in the port.  Not one of them got a notice nailed on the mast,” James leaves an opening for hope.  “Oh, well, then you could say that at the moment, legally, they’re still yours,” Baines grasps the direction of the conversation.  “Aye,” James confirms, and walks on.
     “Hey, that’s sailing close to the wind, sir,” Baines points out.  “Aye,” James again confirms.  “Wouldn’t be the first time you or me’s done that,” Baines looks at James sideways.  James cocks his head, raises his brows, and a grin creeps onto his face.  Baines’ face also gets a sly grin.  They both laugh and board James’ ship.

     After talking with Harris, the banker, then with Capt. Baines his oft-times co-conspirator, James returns to his house and packs his seaman’s bag.  Letty comes in, “Can you at least not spare the time to say good-bye to Charlotte?”
     “Look, if it were possible, I would.  You must give her my love.  Tell her I’ll see her when I return.”  “When will that be?” Letty asks.  “Oh, three months.  No more,” he promises.  “That’s a long time to wait . . . for Charlotte, I meant,” Letty says as she sets her pretty jaw.  
     “Miss Gaunt, um . . . when I come back . . . I hope we, uh . . . we shall have time to talk . . . discuss the future,” James hems & haws.  He is more or less saved by the bell, as Letty goes to answer the door.
     In walks Elizabeth.  “James, what is all this about?”  “Ah, got the money, then?” he asks his sister.  “Yes.”  “Good girl.  I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he speaks almost endearingly.  Their relationship varies from competitive, to critical, to dysfunctional, to caring throughout their lifetime.  “Yes well, before I hand it over, I think I’m owed an explanation,” the dutiful sister requires.  
     “Aye.  Right.  Very well.  The explanation’s quite simple.  By this time tomorrow, Harris will have confiscated my entire fleet,” James sets it out plainly.  “James, I had no idea!” Elizabeth is taken aback.  “Hmm.  Well.  I still have 6 ships in port.  I’m gonna sail them out of his clutches.  We sail at first light.”
     “But where will you go?” Letty worries.  “I don’t know . . . Cardiff, coal for Italy . . . then on to the Black Sea, maybe, for some grain.”
     “Well, I knew things had gone badly for you . . .” Elizabeth starts.
     “I wish you’d told me, James,” Letty says.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”  “No.  Just look after yourself and Charlotte.  Oh . . . housekeeping, eh?” James reaches for the bag of money Elizabeth holds, but she tells him, “I’ll take care of that.  You’ll need every penny for victualing.”  “Thank you, sister,” James really is grateful.
     “Well, I’ve not much time.  I’ve crews to find for 6 ships,” James says by way of goodbye.  No doubt he has waited 'til the last minute to avoid word getting back to the banker.
     “You have taken Baines back?” Elizabeth asks, perhaps feeling a bit sheepish for the way she fired him.  He affirms it.  “I knew you would,” she smiles.
     “Right.  I’d best be off, then.”  He strides over to the door.  But Letty makes him pause as she says, “James, when Mr. Harris finds those ships are gone, he could telegraph the other ports.”  “Yes, they could be waiting for you,” Elizabeth concurs.  
     “Aye,” James says quietly.  “Unless, of course, someone were to tell him that, uh, well, I’d sailed for other parts.”  James grins and leaves.  The two women manage the misdirection quite cleverly the next day.  Letty brings a letter for James, Elizabeth says he has sailed, and Letty says she thought Elizabeth could get it to him via an agent in a port James is (not) going to.  The man intending to take over those ships (Macaulay) overhears, as they had intended, so is indirectly misdirected.

S5 E2—Letty and Charlotte (plus, James writes from Piraeus)
     James returned after 3 months, with 6 ships full of grain from the Black Sea.  It’s only enough to pay interest on his debts, but he has another contract for iron rails to Piraeus (Greece).  Most of the Onedin Line assets have already been sold, but Banker Harris warns that the 2 houses will also have to be sold:  Robert & Sarah’s, and Charlotte & Letty’s.
     Before leaving for Piraeus, James is at home seated once again at his own table.  
     “Eggs, bacon, fried bread,” Letty lists off the components of James’ breakfast he’s heartily consuming, “Well, I was hungry,” he replies as he pours himself some tea.  “You burned the toast.  I can smell it,” Letty comments.  Obviously, he didn’t wait for anyone to wait on him.  “Just like being back onboard ship,” he says with a laugh.  But we know it’s not quite the same.
     “Where’s Charlotte?” he asks.  “She’s up at the [small] house, getting herself ready!” Letty lets him know.  “Eh?” he doesn’t get it.  “To see you!  It’s a special occasion for ‘er, seein’ ‘er father.”  “Well, I’d have come up later,” he excuses himself.  
     “Didn’t write her a letter . . . not one letter while you were away.  Not to me, either,” Letty lightly complains.  “Well, you know, I’m not much good at writing letters . . .” and he takes a drink of tea.  
     “Well, then it’s about time you started!  You let that girl down time and again.  She waits up for you, she puts on special dresses for you, and you never turn up.  It’s always happening.  You need a good thumping” she chides him.
       “Mr. Macaulay’s taken over the whole top floor of the Imperial Hotel, and he’s living it up like a lord,” Letty describes the man who had intended to take over James’ ships, as she clears the breakfast dishes away.  
     “Oh really,” James answers, getting up from the table.  
     “And he’s got his finger into every sort of pie, by all accounts,” she further informs.  But James has something else on his mind.
     “Miss Gaunt,” James begins, “I’m sorry, but I might have to sell your little house . . . the bank insists.  Of course, uh, you and Charlotte can come and live here.”  She’s taken aback, but replies, seemingly unfazed, “Good.”
     “What d’ya mean ‘good’,” James asks as he completes taking a drink of tea and turns to her.  “Charlotte will be delighted,” she demurs.  “Ah.  I shall get a housekeeper in, of course,” he expects to give some kind of protection to her reputation.  But she understands his situation, “Well, housekeepers cost money, don’t they?”  He explains his motivation, for her sake, “Well, you know what I mean.”
     “There is an alternative, James,” she points out and walks away with the dishes, and he lifts an eyebrow and stares as she leaves.       
     Letty and 14-year-old Charlotte prepare a lunch for James, who has promised to come at 1 o’clock.  They sit waiting, until Letty finally says they ought to start without him.  “. . .you know how terribly busy he is at the moment, Charlotte,” Letty excuses James to his daughter, despite what she says to his face.  She tries not to let the young woman be hurt.  “He’s always terribly busy.”  Charlotte well knows the oft-lived story.
     Despite how often she has been hurt, Charlotte still loves and admires her father, and as he continues to prepare for his voyage, she tells Letty, “I could see him from the clifftop walk last night, with all those flares alight, working, shouting, urging them on, seeing everything was properly stowed.  When does he sleep?” the father-admiring Charlotte tells Letty as they take off their coats and hats.  
     “Oh, he probably takes a catnap now and again in the cabin.  He hasn’t stopped for 2 days and nights, you know,” Letty explains.
     Charlotte edges nearer her.  “He . . . he will come and see us . . .” she advances timidly.  “Oh, of course he will, before he sails.  He promised,” Letty reassures her with a smile and clasp of loving hands.  
     When he does get home, James puts together his seabag to take on his voyage.  Charlotte protests, “But we’ve hardly seen you.”  “I know, my love.  Times are hard,” James says in a low voice, but then brightens to say, “Hey, how would you like a little surprise, hmm?  How would you like to come and live here?”
     “In this house? . . . That would be wonderful!” Charlotte also brightens, “What about Letty?”  James chuckles, “Well, that, uh, that’d be up to Miss Gaunt, wouldn’t it?”  “Now I’ve already told you, Charlotte,” Letty reminds her, “you’re getting too old for me to cope with.  You should be off to that young ladies’ academy.”
     “Oh no, I should hate that!  Please don’t send me there, Papa!” Charlotte pleads.  “Besides, I won’t see William anymore.”  “William?” James asks.  “He’s your sister’s boy,” Letty reminds.  “Oh, I see.  A particular friend, is he, eh?” James asks.   
     “Only recently,” Charlotte tells him shyly.  “He goes to mathematical school, you know.  I saw him the day Mr. Macaulay called,” Charlotte remembers fondly.  From the front door Baines shouts for James to come, but James wants to know more about Mr. Macaulay calling.  “Yes.  He’s terribly nice,” Charlotte judges, “Interested in everything.  He was even asking me all sorts of questions about the Onedin Line,” Charlotte innocently reveals.
     James turns his head back toward Letty, who tells him, “it was only for a few minutes, James.  I’d gone down the road to speak to your sister.”  “When was this?” James asks with a concerned look.  “Oh, I don’t know . . . 3 weeks ago?” Letty estimates.
     “He offered William some money so he could take me out.  William didn’t accept, of course,” Charlotte further enlightens her father.
     Baines yells again, “Mr. Onedin, we’ll miss the tide!”  “Yes, alright, I’m coming!” James calls back.  He is obviously troubled by the news he’s just been told, but his time is limited.  Letty laments that shortage of time, “James, you’ve seen her for barely four minutes.”  
     “Look, I must go.”  He turns stiffly to his daughter, “Well, goodbye, Charlotte, uh . . .”  “Oh, Papa . . .” she gives him a kiss on the cheek he allows, but doesn’t return, his arms behind his back as if he were an officer in the Navy.  He isn’t known for displays of affection, at least not for awhile, and not with his daughter.  When Letty first came 5 years and more ago, he said his daughter didn’t really know him, and it’s obvious that he hardly knows her still.  He has been away so much and so long, he seems not really at ease with her.
     James grabs his seabag and another piece of luggage, one under each arm, and turns to go.  “It’s good of you to spare us the time,” Letty says gently sardonically.  He turns and goes out the door.  She purses her lips.
      After he has gone James’ sister-in-law Sarah visits.  “I saw Charlotte down on the quay.  She said you were here.  My goodness, that girl is getting more like her mother every day,” Sarah declares.  “Yes, she is,” Letty agrees, with a glance at Anne’s large portrait still hanging prominently in the room.  
      “Yes, Anne Onedin was a fine wife.  James never appreciated her ‘til after she was dead.  But then he never does appreciate what’s under his nose.”  Sarah is obviously referring to Letty, but maybe with some remembrance of Leonora, whom Sarah had thought would also make James a fine wife.
     It seems Letty’s lectures about writing have sunk in, at least to some degree, and James writes his daughter:  ‘Piraeus is a pleasant port, but food is expensive.  I had to pay through the nose for fresh meat, but managed to bean them down over saltfish and potatoes.  I trust you and Letty are keeping well.’  “Full stop,” he ends the telegram.  .  He signs it, ‘Your loving father, James Onedin.’
     But in Piraeus, a certain man, Margesson, convinces James to try to rescue his family from unrest in Turkey, despite an Admiralty Notice forbidding British ships from going there.  It proves a disastrous episode, and James comes out of a harrowing experience no better off financially.  Sailing home, James leans back on the mast, a cigar in his mouth, his thoughts return to Letty’s words and ways.  “There is an alternative, James.”

S5 E3—Letty & Charlotte move in, but then Letty seeks other employment  
     “Move here?  It’s definite, then?” Letty asks James about the news.  “Aye, I’m afraid that’s the long and the short of it, Miss Gaunt.  “Oh well, I’m glad it’s settled.  At least Charlotte will see more of you.  So will I,” Letty looks up at James.
     “So, uh, Charlotte won’t mind, eh?” James teases her as he sits on a couch drinking a cup of tea without saucer.  “I’m sorry things are going so badly for you, James.  I wish there was something I could do to help,” Letty replies from the opposite couch as she more demurely stirs her cup of tea on a saucer.
     James clears his throat.  “Now, a housekeeper.  Now you must engage a housekeeper.”  “I thought you were trying to save money,” Letty objects and James looks over at her.  “People are gonna talk, they will, housekeeper or no.  I’m sure idle gossip wouldn’t worry me, nor you.  Unless, of course, there were some substance in it,” Letty gently teases him back.  Of course she doesn’t appear to have given consideration to the awkwardness such gossip might cause for Charlotte.
     “Aye.  Well, I must get myself to the Exchange.  I want to check some freight prices with sister Elizabeth before I see her,” James gets up to leave with a case. 
     “You say Charlotte’s at a party, then?” James asks.  For answer Letty says, “D’you know, I do believe that Christmas falls on Friday this year.”  “What?” James asks, leaning toward her.  “Nothing . . . You’re not the only one who can change the subject.”  “Ah, no,” he admits, then bids her a “See ya later,” and leaves.  She snickers.
     On the day that Letty and Charlotte move in to James’ house, Letty gives instructions to the moving men as Charlotte takes off her hat in the front hall.  
     “Oh come on, Charlotte, cheer up.  I thought you were looking forward to living here,” Letty tries to cheer her charge.  
     “Oh I am.  But you must admit, it does seem a bit bleak,” Charlotte replies.  “It’s like one of his ships,” Letty judges.  One might not quite agree, but Letty goes on, despite wanting to keep James’ expenses down, “Never mind, we’ll soon brighten it up.  Which room do you want?  There are plenty to choose from here,” compared to the little house where they have been living.
     “Can I have the big one at the top?” Charlotte brightens.  “Oh, but love, that’s where the servants . . .” Letty begins to protest.  “Oh, come on, Letty.  It’s so bright and sunny, and from the window I can see all the ships coming and going,” Charlotte cheerfully pleads her case.  As usual, Letty gives in to her.
     “D’you think Papa will agree?” Charlotte hesitates in her resolve.  “Agree?  Well, he’ll just have to, won’t he?” Letty and Charlotte giggle a bit.
     Letty & Charlotte settle in, and we see Letty being more a mother than governess.  One night as Charlotte is going up to her room she asks, “Letty, now that we’re all living in the house together, are you going to marry Father?”  “Bless you, child.  Whatever gave you that idea?” Letty asks, as though she doesn’t know.  “Besides which, he hasn’t asked me.”
     “But are you,” Charlotte pursues.  “Wait and see,” Letty puts her off.  “I wouldn’t mind if you did . . . You’d be more like an older sister than a stepmother.”  Stepmothers have a bad rep.
     James’ pecuniary problems lead him to pursue a risky contract to take iron plates to Belfast.  Five ships have gone down with all hands in the last 6 months on such a contract.
     James gives Letty some money before his voyage to Belfast.  She looks at it on the table before her.  “Twenty pounds?  But why?”
    “For housekeeping,” James answers her.  “Well, I won’t need that much.  You’ll only be gone a week, at most,” she protests.  “Well, might be delayed,” James offers a reason, “. . . storms, summat like that . . . Hey, is Charlotte at home?”  “No, she’s at your sister-in-law’s.  But then she didn’t know you were sailing . . . no more did I,” Letty says.
     “Pity.  Like to have seen ‘er,” James doesn’t explain that by all accounts it could be the last time.  “Well, she’s getting quite used to that by now.  Anyway, you’ll be back in no time, I’m sure,” Letty supposes.  
     “Oh . . . oh, aye.  Of course.  Now, Miss Gaunt, uh, you realize that this house is in my name?” James says as he walks swiftly over to the window.  “Yes,” she affirms.  “What I mean is, it’s not part of the Onedin Line assets.  It’s, uh mine.  Unencumbered,” he emphasizes.  “So, come what may, they can’t take it away.  You and Charlotte will always have somewhere to live.”  “Oh, and so will you, James.  Unless you’re planning to move out,” Letty is getting a little concerned about where this conversation is headed.  Is he planning to separate their lives?
     “Huh?  No, no . . . no, of course not.  And another thing, um, a Mrs. Gibson will be calling.  Now she comes highly recommended, and I want ya to hire her as a housekeeper.”  “James, I believe you do this quite deliberately.  We get to this point, and then you change the subject.  Well, I refuse to be treated like some child’s rag doll to be picked up and put down when you please.  Time and again we get to this point and then you back away,” Letty gets extremely animated.  She refers, of course, to the “alternative”, that is, marriage.
     “Miss Gaunt . . .” James starts to say something, but Letty interrupts, “James, I’m talking about you and me . . . and Charlotte.  She knows how we feel about one another . . . maybe a lady shouldn’t talk about such things, and perhaps I’m no lady.  But it isn’t fair to her, and it certainly isn’t fair to me.”
     “Letty, I sail in less than an hour,” James says quietly.  “You silly man, you can propose in one minute . . . and I promise you, I’d say yes,” Letty looks straight at him.  
     “When I get back from Ireland . . .” James begins, and Letty finishes, “I’ll not be here.”  “Well, I hope you will be,” he tries to convince her.  “I’ll explain then.”  
     James knows the danger of his not coming home again, wants to be sure Charlotte and Letty will always have a home, and that they know they do.  He thinks it better, if he is to be lost at sea, that he not leave Letty a widow.  He means well, but it might be better for her, at least financially, to be his widow than his employee.  Emotionally, it’s hard to say whether it would feel to her more a betrayal for him to hurry a promise or a wedding before going on a voyage he knows he might not survive.  And if she knew the danger, she surely would not let him go, if she could prevent it.  He knows that such an argument could not be resolved in only an hour.
     “Oh, go and get on your damn ship,” Letty looks away, and James leaves.  She doesn’t snicker this time.
     So while James sails to Belfast, Letty is left hanging once again.  She’s finding it unbearable.  She tells James’ sister (Letty’s friend) about a position as governess she’s seen advertised in the newspaper. Although she had not felt qualified to be Charlotte’s governess, she is tempted to find other employment than James, and this sounds like the answer to her dilemma.  One that doesn’t string her along with ever unfulfilled expectations.  
     “James is a thoughtless wretch.  But then he was the same with Anne,” Elizabeth consoles.  She encourages Letty to apply, and writes her a glowing reference.  Letty was wavering, worried about leaving Charlotte, but Elizabeth suggests that Charlotte can stay with Aunt Mary, who always loves to have her.  (Nothing is explained about who Aunt Mary is, or how related.)
     Charlotte reluctantly faces her separation from Letty with tears streaming.  Letty tries to distract from the pain of it by getting her to promise to write, and Charlotte tells her, “Every day.”  
     Letty, with an arm around Charlotte, leaves a be-draped parlor, and a letter addressed to James.

S5 E4 —James’ & Letty’s plans for a quiet wedding are traded for an ordeal or two
     James is reticent to propose marriage, no doubt for more than one reason.  He’s been turned down twice before, but Letty has assured him she’d say “Yes”.  Maybe he’s too comfortable with things as they are.  His sister-in-law Sarah says he also took Anne for granted.  His sister Elizabeth has suggested that he has to be in fear of losing her as motivation to get him to propose.  And that would seem to be the case.
     James is on his own now, with Mrs. Gibson as housekeeper.  He holds up a sample of her cooking with a scowl.
     “Mrs. Gibson, what sort of offal do you call this, huh?” James asks.  “Steak and kidney pie.  Fresh meat and fresh kidneys,” she answers, regarding something that looks more like a piece of leatherwork, “and if it’s not to your taste, I’m sorry.”  She hardly sounds sorry.
     “Mrs. Gibson, I pay you good wages, and all you can produce is a burnt offering that would disgrace the focsle of a  . . . Yankee blood boat,” James searches to find a suitable description.
     “I’m sure I do my best, sir.  But if I may say so, I’ve put up with nothing but carping criticism this past week, ever since Miss Gaunt left.  Perhaps it would be better if I were to tender my notice.”  No doubt Miss Gaunt would have a kinder way of communicating with Mrs. Gibson, and get better results.
     The doorbell rings, and James tells her, “Oh, don’t be such a fool and see who that is, will you? . . . Oh, and see this catches the afternoon post, will you?.”  She takes the letter with the appropriate “Yes, sir,” and James wanders, noting the dust in the room as he lights his cigar.
     Capt. Baines walks in and wishes James a good afternoon, and James replies with, “What troubles have brought with you this time, then, eh?”  Baines ignores that and asks, “Who do ya think I’ve just seen?”  “Well, given time, no doubt, you’ll tell me.”  “You’re in a rare temper these days, aren’t ya?  I’ve just seen Daniel Fogarty.”  “Fogarty?”  “Aye, it must be all of 16 years since old man Frazer sent him packing with a flea in his ear, and there he was, dressed to kill and as large as life.”

     It’s in a fine restaurant that a waiter seats Letty, and James takes a seat as well.  “It was very kind of you to invite me to dinner, James,” Letty says graciously.  James chuckles as he says, “I can recommend the food.  Far superior to anything I’ve had at home recently.  Ah, I’ve suffered from a series of cooks who can’t cook, and a housekeeper who can’t keep house.”
     “Well, you must advertise.  And carefully interview each applicant.  I’m sure you wouldn’t tolerate an inefficient sea captain,” Letty speaks the truth.  “I haven’t the time to attend to such detail.”  We know how “carefully” he interviewed Letty, but then he had a feeling about her.  And, as a captain and shipowner he no doubt has an eye for suitable seamen.  Not so much household staff.  Additionally, he would be in a position to hear of the reputation of sailors.
     “I . . . I need someone of proven competence . . . a helpmate.”  Letty is shifting around in her chair and takes no notice of that word, “helpmate”.  “Are you comfortable  . . . where you are?” he asks her.  “Yes, thank you, James.  I’m quite comfortable,” she says as she peruses the menu.
     “N-no, I mean, uh, in your present position,” he clarifies.  “Oh, yes.  Sir Charles is a most considerate employer [in contrast to James], and the children are little angels, and never a cross word.  I’ve got my own private sitting room, and I’m waited on hand and foot.”  James can only look and sound disappointed to hear this glowing description. We don't know if she is exaggerating.  
     As the waiter has come to take their order, James says, “Well now, I can recommend the soup.  I think we should start with that, yes.  The oxtail,” he tells the waiter.  “I’m content to be guided by you,” Letty tells James as she closes her menu.  
     “Right.  Oh, I see they have some venison pasty.  D’you like venison, Letty?” James asks in a friendly way.  “Oh yes, indeed,” Letty smiles widely, “Sir Charles often has a whole haunch of venison.”  “Ah, I see.  We’ll have the steak and kidney pie . . . and, uh, your best burgundy, the uh, ’75, I suggest.”  The waiter repeats all as he writes.  He takes the menus and leaves.
     “How’s Charlotte?” Letty asks.  “Oh, she’s very well . . . she’s staying with ‘er aunt Mary, you know, uh, she misses you.”  “Yes, I miss her, too.”  
     “Hmm.  What she needs is the affection of a constant companion,” James says pointedly, looking directly at Letty, “like yourself.”  “James, affection is not something that can be bought and paid for,” Letty says equally pointedly, looking directly at him.  She's referring to the difference between an employee (such as a governess) and a relative.  It would seem that Aunt Mary has plenty of affection for Charlotte, but of course James wants her to have Letty.  He wants himself to have Letty, too.  And Letty herself wants them to have her--as a family member, not a member of staff.
     “Oh, I know.  I know that.  That’s why I, um . . .” James is interrupted by the waiter bringing their soup.  As the man tries to shake out a napkin for James’ lap, James grabs it, saying, “Oh damn it,”  The waiter takes his cue and leaves again.
     After the waiter has poured their burgundy and left, James asks Letty, “How much does he pay you, hmm?”
     “£100 a year.”  “Good God, the man must be made of money.  Well, I see no alternative but to outbid him,” James poses.  “I’m afraid that’s quite out of the question, James.” Letty starts to say, but he comes back with, “. . . but oh, Letty, you haven’t heard my offer,” he fairly pants.  “I see no other course but to ask you to be my wife,” he proposes as quickly as he can.  
     “What?” Letty asks.  “Well, since I cannot compete with Sir Charles on his terms, I must needs compete on mine,” James looks at her with his negotiator face.  Letty chuckles, “Oh James, only you could turn a romantic proposal of marriage into a business proposition.  I’m sure the words must have stuck in your throat like a fishbone,” she chuckles more.
     “Uh, well, if that’s your answer . . . nothing more to be said,” James is disappointed with an answer he seems almost to have expected.  He’s been turned down twice.  No doubt he’s been apprised plenty often by his friends, and especially his female relatives, how difficult he is to live with.  And Letty left him, after more than one less-than-friendly confrontation.  What should he expect? 
     But Letty puts her hand on his, “Oh, dear James.  It was the lovliest proposal imaginable.”  “You accept?” he is incredulous.  “How could I possibly refuse?”  “Oh . . .” he begins to smile.  

     After Emma (Callon, the consumptive) Fogarty’s funeral, James mentions to his brother Robert, “By the by . . . I have it in mind to marry again, Robert.”  Robert, who is still angry about having lost his home after the confiscation of Port Baines, and all the losses it entailed, shows hardly any interest.  “I, uh, I stand in need of a best man.  I was wonderin’ if, uh . . . if you’d, uh, oblige.”  Robert looks at James, “Marry? . . . Oh really, James!” and walks away.

     James closes his book with a bang. “All this fuss, and in half an hour it’s all over and done with!” he tells his sister, who has come to see him in his own home.  
     “James, you really are quite impossible.  You seem to imagine a wedding to have no more ceremonial than signing a seaman aboard one of your confounded ships.”  Does Elizabeth describe her ships that way, since she inherited Frazers?  “There are arrangements to be made,” she continues.
     “The only arrangements that concern me are between Letty and the parson,” James asserts.  “I’ve never heard such nonsense,” Elizabeth scoffs.  “No, neither have I.  Now come to the point.  I mean you haven’t really come here to gossip about wedding arrangements.”  “I’m only taking a sisterly interest.”  “Oh, I know,” he groans.  “You want me to have some grand affair, 200 people gawping at us.  Well, let me tell you this.  It’s goin’ to be a simple wedding.  Now you might be invited.  I don’t know yet.  Now what really brought you here, eh?”
     Elizabeth sits on the couch opposite him with a sigh.  “Daniel needs your help to rid himself of Macaulay.” And the conversation turns to that problem.  

     Robert, Sarah, and their son Samuel sit in their parlor.  Sarah, calmly engaged in a stitchery project, tells Robert, “My heart quite goes out to poor Letty.  I trust that James will have the courtesy to send us a formal invitation.”  Robert looks over at her from the newspaper he’s been reading, “Which, under the circumstances, we shall refuse.”
     “We’ll do no such thing,” Sarah states flatly.  “Oh, come on, Sarah.  It’s not a week since you swore you’d never speak to James again,” Robert reminds her.  “Oh, a wedding isn’t speaking,” Sarah reasons, “A wedding’s an occasion.  Besides, we are family,” she stands to say.  “Women!” Robert exclaims.  “Well, it’ll be a poor do, I can tell ya.  If James has anything to do with it, they’ll be toasting the couple in cocoa.  You know, he asked me to be his best man, didn’t you?”  Sarah turns quickly round.
     “Well you accepted, I trust,” Sarah tells her husband.  “No.  I said I’d think about it,” Robert replies.  “Robert, have you no sense of social obligation?”  Funny she doesn’t say family obligation.  No doubt she would not like people gossiping about such a rift in the family.  “It’s our bounden duty to stand by them.  Of course you must stand as groomsman.  It would be unthinkable to permit a stranger.  Besides, I wouldn’t put it past James to ask Capt. Baines.”  Capt. Baines is not of the same social position as the Onedins, and Sarah is keenly aware of social position.

     As Letty is being fitted for a wedding dress, she tells Charlotte, Elizabeth, and Sarah, “Well, we had planned a quiet wedding.  I know that’s James’ wish.”
     “If James had his way, you’d find yourself being wed by Capt. Baines aboard one of his rowing boats,” Elizabeth accuses.  Sarah chuckles, “You hold out for the best that money can buy.”  There's a bit of jealousy over James' successes . . . they want him to have to spend.
     “I don’t want the best,” Letty tells them, to no avail.  “Just leave everything to us,” Elizabeth says, and instructs the two fitters, “I think the waist [of the corset] could be a little tighter.”  “Oh no, I can hardly breathe as it is.  I shall swoon!” Letty protests.  “Brides are expected to swoon on their wedding day,” Elizabeth puts forward, as though she has so much experience.
     “And we shall come well-supplied with smelling salt,” Sarah offers.  “Oh, it’s James that will need those when he realizes the expense,” Letty has reason to surmise.
     “I trust Robert can be relied upon to drag him to the church on time.  You have persuaded him?” Elizabeth directs at Sarah.  “Robert has unavoidable business commitments abroad,” Sarah protests a little to fast and too loud.  “He’s taking ship for New York.  As you know, Robert has always had an eye to the future, and having heard so much about this new American system of departmental shopping, he’s decided to go and have a look for himself.”
     “He could go after the wedding,” Elizabeth suggests reasonably.  “Oh, my thoughts, precisely.  But you know what a determined man Robert is, and once he’s made up his mind to something, nothing will sway him,” Sarah replies.  “In other words, James is still out of favor.  Is he traveling by Frazer steamer?” Elizabeth responds.  “Of course not.  He’s traveling with Capt. Baines aboard one of our own ships, the ‘Orpheus’,” Sarah explains.  As we know, he can travel thus for free.  Aboard the ship to New York Baines admits to Robert he’s sorry to have to miss James’ wedding.   

     At the wedding rehearsal James checks and winds his watch.  “Are you sure that everthing’s perfectly clear?” the clergyman asks.  “It was perfectly clear the first time,” James tells him, and the cleric replies that “Practice makes perfect.”  
     Letty dispels the tension by offering the parson a glass of sherry.  Charlotte and William move to the piano.  Daniel Fogarty comes in, “I trust I’m not intruding . . . My wedding gift,” he says as he hands an envelope to James.  James takes it and names it, “Robert’s voting rights.”  “And a draft for £5000.  I’m a man of my word,” Daniel adds.  James had negotiated with Daniel for proof of Macaulay being behind the coffin ships in the previous episode, so that Daniel could send him packing.   James smiles, “Better add ya to the guest list then, eh?  Everybody else seems to be coming.  Have a glass of wine.”
     Mrs. Gibson brings a message to James.  He exclaims, “That damned fool! . . . I must leave immediately,” he tells Letty.  “Well what is it?” she asks.  “It’s from the master of the ‘Falcon’.  He’s run her aground just leaving Porthmadog.  She’s in danger of becoming a total wreck,” James explains.  “Porthmadog, North Wales . . . the very devil of a place to get into, as I remember,” Fogarty comments.  “Yeah, well things haven’t improved at all.  I’ll take the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’,” James says. “You go through the Menai Strait?” Fogarty asks.  “Well, I have a contract to meet.  Got to get there on time.”
       “But you will be back,” Letty worries.  “. . . the wedding,” she reminds him.  “Oh, yes, yes.  Of course,” James assures her.  “But you’ve only got 7 days,” Letty emphasizes.  “Look, 36 hours out, 36 hours home.  I’ll have time to spare, hey?”  But Letty doesn’t look entirely convinced.  She’s known him a few years.
     When James gets to the “Falcon”, he has all the cargo from it loaded on to the “Charlotte Rhodes”, sends the captain with that to fulfill the contract, and intends to sail the “Falcon” himself.  Then the captain says, “You have an empty ship.  If you are going back to Liverpool, there is something you ought to know . . .” and we are left hanging.
     Back in Liverpool Letty and her two prospective sisters-in-law are having tea.  “Well I hope and pray he’s not delayed,” Letty voices her concerns, “I mean, if the weather should take a turn for the worse . . .”  “With James to contend with, it wouldn’t dare,” Elizabeth assures her.  Letty worries about the reception and all the guests.  Talk of the wedding reminds Sarah of hers and Robert’s, and she laughs to retell it.  Elizabeth then tells of her elopement with Albert, her deceased husband.  Sarah connects that with Fogarty, and thinks she’ll be hearing wedding bells for Elizabeth and him soon.  Elizabeth replies, “Well, if you do, Sarah, your hearing will be sharper than mine.”
     Letty brings the conversation back to James, “He has been away five full days.”  “Don’t worry, Letty.  James is never late for an appointment,” Elizabeth again assures her.
     But Letty gets a note, and shows it to Elizabeth, who reads it aloud for our sake.  “Postpone wedding.  Detained 2 days.  Return Thursday without fail,” to which she adds, “Isn’t that typical of James!”
     “Oh, something dreadful must have happened to have made him postpone the wedding.  Well, perhaps something’s happened to the ship.  He might be injured!” she imagines all sorts of disasters, with ever increasing anxiety.
     But the camera shows sheep bleating their way up the ramp on the run to the quay.  James smiles as he climbs the ramp himself.  When he walks into his parlor with his seabag, Letty is there, furious.  She turns and says, “You.  You monster!”  “What?” he asks.  “You dare to postpone our wedding for a cargo of stupid sheep!”  He comes fully in the door to explain, “Well, it was too good a bargain to miss! . . . Mutton’s fetchin’ a fortune in Liverpool at the moment, an’ these were goin’ a-beggin’!”
     “Oh, James, how could you?!” Letty is outraged.  “Look.  They’d just come down from this mountain.  Now there was no fodder for ‘em, no ship at the quayside . . .”
     “James, ya promised . . . “  “And if I’d waited another week, somebody else would’ve snapped ‘em up,” it seems perfectly reasonable to him.  
     “All those invitations!” Letty exclaims, but that would be an argument more likely to make James less than anxious to hurry back.  “Well, I don’t know why you’re so upset.  Hey, we can get married in a couple of days’ time.”  And he’d much prefer there not be time to make such a fuss over it.
     “No.  no,” Letty turns away.  “Yes, you’ll see.  Look, you wanted a quiet wedding.  Well, a quiet wedding you shall have.”
     “No.  Never, never!” she turns and faces him.  “Letty . . .” he tries to soothe her ruffled feathers.  “You heard what I said,” she emphasizes.  “Now you go and marry one of your damn sheep!”  She leaves with alacrity, and he is left to fold his arms and scowl.

S5 E5—Letty’s independence
     Robert has returned from New York to find some rather dramatic changes.  Regarding James and Letty, Robert says, “So then, after all that they didn’t get married.”  “Precisely,” Sarah says as she pours him another cup of tea [Americans just don’t know how to make a decent cup of tea, he says].  “James is convinced she’ll still marry him, but I’m not so sure.”  “She’s still staying up there at the house?” Robert asks.  “For Charlotte’s sake,” Sarah explains.  “They’ve got a housekeeper, but that won’t stop tongues from wagging.”  “You’d have thought he’d had some consideration for her good name.  Still, that’s James all over, isn’t it?”  He wasn’t privy to Letty and James’ discussions on that subject.

     James mosies into his parlor, reading a newspaper, as Letty takes a tray out.  She wishes him a cheerful good morning, he wishes her a pouting good morning.  She says she’ll get him some breakfast, he gruffly tells her, “Mrs. Gibson can do that.”  “Oh, it’s no trouble,” Letty tells him.
     “Look.  Why do we have a servant?” James asks.  “I wish I knew,” Letty answers, “Goodness only knows Charlotte and I could manage.”
     “Well, I’ll not have you as a skivvy,” James sits with his face still in his paper.  “Mrs. Gibson makes me feel so uncomfortable,” Letty complains.  James chuckles sardonically, “Oh, why does she do that?” James asks her to explain.
     “Well, I’m not a proper governess.  You know that.  I hate having to keep up a position,” Letty objects.  “Is that why you wouldn’t marry me, because ya had a position to keep up?” James charges.  “The injured innocent doesn’t suit you, James, and you know perfectly well that’s not the reason.  Now you read your paper, and I’ll ask Mrs. Gibson to get you some breakfast.”
     “You tell ‘er, don’t ask ‘er.” James sniffs.
     “Very well,” Letty sets down the tray and rings for the housekeeper.  “There you are.  I’ve even rung the bell for ‘er.”  Letty takes a seat on the opposite couch from James.  
     “Were you at the shipping club last night,” she asks conversationally.  “I have a lot of people to see before I go tomorrow,” he says, with his nose still in his paper.  “Will you be out again tonight?” she asks.  “Would you mind if I was?” he challenges.  “Charlotte would be sorry,” she deflects.  “But not you,” he wants some kind of admission.  “Well of course I would,” she allows.  “If you’re goin’ away for goodness knows how long.”
     That brings a smile to his face and he quickly sets his paper aside.  “Here, Letty, I’ve been offered some tickets for Tudor’s Music Hall tonight,” he offers.  “Oh, Charlotte’ll love that,” she answers.
     “I’m not taking Charlotte to the music hall,” he wants her to understand who it is he wants to take.  She purposely takes it another way, “Well, the Tudors is not Dan Lowries!  You won’t be amongst the rabble.  Besides, she’s a grown woman now.”  Not so very grown that she can marry without parental consent . . . in fact she must only be in her mid-teens.
     “And old enough to understand what I feel about you, and to know that on my last night  . . .” he tries to clarify.  “However ya feel about me is not so important as what ya feel for her!” she tries to clarify to him.  “Look, I wanted you to be my wife.”
     Mrs. Gibson comes in, in answer to the bell.  “Yes sir . . .”  Letty answers her, “Oh, Mrs. Gibson, if it’s not too much trouble, would you get the master some breakfast?”  “Aye, and even if it is too much trouble,” James amends ungraciously.
     “Mr. Robert Onedin is here, he wants to know if you’re at home,” Mrs. Gibson speaks to James in kind.  “Show ‘im in,” James tells her.  But Letty wants her to wait.  “Mrs. Gibson, would you give Mr. Onedin my compliments and say we’ll see him in just a minute?”
     Once Mrs. Gibson is gone and closed the door behind her, “James, it’s not because I don’t love ya that I didn’t marry ya, and I thought I’d made that clear.  Ya say you don’t want me here as a skivvy, but if I married you . . .  do you realize that you’re going to the other side of the world tomorrow and you haven’t even told me why?  And you’ve taken to reading every inch of the ‘Times’ this week.  Before, you only used to look at the shipping news.  Now, what do you hope to read there?”
     “Perhaps if you were my wife I’d tell you,” he poses with a closed grin.  “I wonder.  I’ll marry you when I’m ready, and that’s when I’ve got the power to leave you.”
     Robert comes in, and the conversation is over for now.
     Next morning aboard ship, Charlotte is singing what she heard at the music hall, Letty is laughing.  James isn’t.  “I hope your Aunt Sarah doesn’t get to hear that I took you to a music hall,” he grouches.
     “Can we go again?” Charlotte asks enthusiastically.  “No, you cannot,” James attempts to smother the fun of it.  “While you’re away,” Charlotte’s enthusiasm isn’t dampened.  “Especially not while I’m away,” James lays down the law.  
     “Charlotte, be a good girl.  Run up on deck and see if I’ve dropped my gloves . . . It’s bad enough your father going to the Argentine, without a good pair of gloves going as well.”  “Aye, go and tell Capt. Baines I want to get ready to sail, I don’t want to miss the tide,” James and Letty jointly parent the girl.  He actually smiles as he watches his daughter go.
     “James, I won’t have you going away bearing a grudge,” Letty tells him once Charlotte is out of hearing.  He claims he’s not.  She reiterates that she didn’t refuse to marry him because she didn’t love him, and says that if he believes that, he’s “just plain dense”.  She chuckles, “Oh, don’t look like such a wet Sunday.  Ya hardly laughed at all at that entertainment last night.”
     “Yeah, well you certainly enjoyed yourself,” he decides to take offense at that.  “You silly man.  Don’t you realize the feelings I’m trying to hide?”  She's not trying too hard to hide them.

     After James has sailed, Letty is looking perplexed as she searches the parlor.  Charlotte says angrily, “If you’re looking for that letter you were going to post the other day, it’s where you left it . . . not that you’d know where that is.  Here,” Charlotte takes the letter and hands it to her.  Why would Charlotte be angry with Letty?  We’ll find out in a moment.
     “I’ll post it myself if you like,” Charlotte offers without kindness, “I’m going out in a minute.”  “Now it’s not what you think it is, Charlotte.”  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Charlotte claims.  “Don’t you play the madam with me, young lady,” Letty chides.  “And don’t you talk to me as if I’m still a child!” Charlotte raises her voice as well.  “I will talk to you just as I please,” Letty’s voice ups the volume ante.
     “Sir Charles wont’ like you taking that tone in his house,” Charlotte thus lets us know why she’s angry.  She feels Letty abandoned her once, and maybe she’ll abandon her again, and go back to work for Sir Charles.
     “Oh, stop it.  You’re still not too old for me to slap, Charlotte,” Letty threatens (though she told James years ago that Charlotte would slap her back and they’d both end up laughing about it.  Things must have changed somewhat in their relationship.)
     Letty opens the letter and thrusts it at Charlotte.  “There.  Read it for yourself.  It’s got nothing to do with the position he offered me as a governess.  I only wish it were that simple.  Now that’s my reply to a letter he sent me the other day.  The one you found in my work basket.”
     “He’s given you money?” Charlotte wants to understand.  “£500.  Intended as a marriage settlement.  Well, when I told him I wasn’t getting married after all, he insists the money is for me anyway.  Held in a Liverpool bank for me to draw on whenever I please.”
     “So you’re telling him to take it back?” Charlotte asks.  “Of course I am.”  “Well what if he doesn’t?” Charlotte sits down, her anxieties turned to a wish to know.  “Well, then I suppose the money will stay there gathering interest in my name forever and ever.”
     “Well why did he give it in the first place?  Marriage settlement . . . is that like a dowry?” is Charlotte’s next question.  Letty answers, “Quite the reverse.  It was to give me financial independence, he says, so that even after I marry him, your father knows I won’t have to rely on him for protection.”  One can’t help wonder if Elizabeth may have told Sir Charles something of Letty’s reason for seeking other employment than James.  Sir Charles may feel the relationship already too rocky to be happy or to last.
    “Why shouldn’t you rely on him?  Do you have to be so proud?” Charlotte asks.  “Yes, I do, Charlotte, because it’s a proud man I love.”  Letty looks over at Anne’s portrait as she goes on, “You’re mother would have understood that.  From what I’ve heard about her, she also felt the need to show she was an equal.”
     “Why not accept the money, then?” Charlotte now urges.  “If that’s all you need to give you the courage to marry Father, why not?”  “What, accepting what amounts to a small fortune from someone who is, after all, just a stranger?  Huh!  What would your father think?”
     “Does it matter what he thinks?  He’s only your employer,” Charlotte points out, and that causes Letty to look at her as though she has spoken just to the point.  
     So Letty decides to keep the money after all.  She decides to offer Charlotte’s cousin William (Elizabeth’s son), a place to work on his designs, and eventually invests in his research . . . in order to give him the means to pursue his own way in life as well.  
     Charlotte, who is infatuated with William, is delighted that Letty has invested in him.  Letty knows it may come to nothing, but if it does succeed . . . Charlote thinks, “Papa will be pleased.”  It’s really Charlotte that will be pleased.  But Letty tells her, “Your papa will have nothing to do with it.   I’m not investing in William for your father’s sake, [but] for William, so that he can run his own life.  Well, and possibly for myself,” Letty chuckles.  “When your father comes home and finds I’ve got a triple expansion engine in his old stables, and that it might turn out to be profitable one day, well, he wouldn’t keep me waiting at the church after that, now would he?”

S5 E6—James’ brings home money from Port Baines; Letty buys a mill, James must supply the grain
     James has returned from South America with a bag of gold coins:  personal “compensation” for the loss of Port Baines.   “A gift from Colonel Vega,” James tells Letty.  “Now, Letty, the only people that know about this are Baines, myself, and you.”
     “There must be thousands there,” Letty comments.  “Oh, not as much as I lost,” he tells her.  “Now, this must remain very secret.  Very secret indeed.”  “Of course.  What will you do, James, keep it under your bed?” Letty asks slightly sardonically.
     “Now, money’s only useful if it’s made to work,” James tells her, as he’d told Anne more than once.  “Indeed.  Something I’ve only recently come to realize myself,” Letty allows.  “But how? . . . How can I make it work?” James is too self-absorbed to take note of Letty’s comment.   “If I went and bought another ship, half the people in this town would want to know where that money came from,” James knows.  And so does Letty, “Aye, you’d have creditors stretching from here to the town hall.  And Mr. Harris of the bank would be at the head of them.”
     James chuckles in assent.  “Aye . . . Perhaps it’s time I bought out brother Robert,” James ponders aloud.  “Well, you haven’t got enough there for that, have you?” Letty asks.
     “Now he owns 15% of the company.  But 15% of what?  He doesn’t know what the company’s worth,” James lays out his idea.  “James!  He is your brother,” Letty sounds like Anne.  “Oh . . . what’s that got to do with it?  This is business.  I’ve mixed business and family for far too long.  Now that’s a lesson that it’s taken me a long time to learn.”  James leaves out a few details.
     “I see.  Well, if that’s the way you feel, perhaps I’d better take a leaf out of your book,” Letty foreshadows.  “I don’t understand,” James is in the dark thus far.  “You will, James, you will,” she promises.  
     “Well . . . ?” he asks expectantly.  When she doesn’t immediately explain, he turns to her with, “Letty, I’m not known for me patience.”  “You know, that fact has not escaped my notice, James.”  “Oh, you are an infuriating woman,” he begins peevishly.  “Ya hint at something, and then instead of coming out with it, like . . . well, like . . . uh . . .”  “A man?” Letty fills in the blank.  “Yes . . . No . . . You’re in all points of the compass [all over the place]. . .” he paces to and fro, “If you’ve got something to say, say it!”
     “Very well, I will.  Do you know you’ve been in this house for 30 minutes, after bein’ away for months?  30 minutes--I know, because I looked at the clock for the umpteenth time before ya came through that door--and in all that time you’ve talked about nothing except business and money,” Letty chides.
     “Oh,” James answers a bit more humbly.  “Well, I thought you’d be interested.”  “I’m interested in lots of things, James.  It depends, however, the order in which they come.”  Now Letty sounds a bit like Caroline.
     The doorbell rings.  Letty starts to go answer it, but James stops her.  “Mrs. Gibson will answer that.”  But banging on the door becomes most importunate.  “I think perhaps I’d better go, or else we’ll be needing a new front door.  When James hears his brother Robert in the front hall asking for him, he quickly stows the money bag out of sight.  Letty tells Robert that James is in the drawing room.
     Robert bursts through the door.  “Robert, you have come at a most inconvenient time,” James tells him.  “I’m not interested if it’s convenient.  I’ve got something to say to you that can’t wait,” Robert firmly asserts.
   “Oh, about Samuel, no doubt,” James surmises.  “You know perfectly well it’s about Samuel,” Robert marches forward to his brother.  “James, you’ve stooped pretty low in the past, but I never thought, never imagined that you’d stoop so low as to inveigle my own son away from me,” Robert is incensed.
     “Inveigle?  He stowed away,” James emphasizes.  “Well, ask him.  Nothing to do with me.”  “That’s rubbish, and you know it.  For years, you’ve enticed him with, with tales of the sea . . . with romantic yarns of life before the mast.  And all the time, you’ve known perfectly well that I’ve planned a quite different career for him.”  Another theme from the “Onedin Line” is that of self-determination.
     “Look, Robert, most lads of his age are interested in adventure, not in shopkeeping,” James tries to gently clue him in.  But Robert is not to be clued in, “In your opinion.  Well, you’ve done enough harm to me and mine in the past.  So I will thank you to stop interfering.  And don’t advise me on how to bring up my own son!”
     “Look, Robert,” James starts again to insert some reason in a gentler, reasoning way, “all I’m trying to tell you is, that Samuel has the makings of good seaman.  Now he might have the makings of a good shopkeeper as well, but talk to him about it, not to me.”
     “James, you took Samuel halfway across the world,” Robert accuses as he crosses the room to where his brother has meandered.  “You just can’t wash your hands of it as easily as all that,” Robert is still incensed.
     “I tried to dissuade him,” James objects, and Robert doesn’t know how much he tried.  “You did nothing!” Robert charges.  “You were sighted by at least 3 ships before you reached Lisbon.  You could have put him on any one of those.”  James physically as well as verbally stands up to his older, though less lofty, brother, “Well, I chose not to.”  “And we both know why, don’t we?” Robert presupposes.
      Robert follows James back to the middle of the room.  “Samuel is your nephew, but he’s as near as you’re ever going to get to having a son of your own.”  That wipes the smile off James’ countenance.  He looks at his brother with steely eyes.
     “Get out of my house,” James orders forcefully.  “What’s more to the point, keep out of mine!” Robert spits out word by word and slams the door behind him.

     James goes out to the old stable where William is testing out his little engine, with Charlotte, as ever, watching adoringly.  James walks in.  “Oh, what’s all this?”  “Father, you’re back,” Charlotte is delighted, and gives him a kiss on the cheek.  James asks William about his project, and William gives a short answer, including his hopes.  James says half the engineers in England are working on it.  “How long has this been going on, then, eh?” James asks.  
     “Hasn’t Letty told you, Father?” Charlotte asks.  “Hmm?  No, it must have slipper her mind,” James tries to cover for the lack of complete sharing of information between him and Letty.  William mentions that Letty has been helping him pursue his venture, to which James replies, “Ah, come.  This must have cost a pretty penny.  Who’s footin’ the bill?” James asks as he looks it over.  William starts to say it’s been Miss Gaunt, Charlotte indicates he shouldn’t, but William goes ahead, “Miss Gaunt is, sir.”
     “Oh . . . uh, Charlotte, where is Letty?
     Then we see that Letty is gone to look at a mill.  The mill owner has driven her in his 2-wheeled horse-drawn cart.  She asks why he’s selling.  He claims it’s his health.  She comments that he looks well enough, he claims he’s sicker than he looks and has to take a quantity of medicine.  
     He pulls up in front of the mill and asks her opinion.  “Well, I think she’s a very fine mill, sir.  But I’m wonderin’ what your price might be,” she looks at him shrewdly.  “Well, now, uh, I thought of 400 guineas, ma’am.”  When Letty lets out a deprecating sigh, he adds, “Well, that includes the land adjoining.”
     “Well, I fear my principal wouldn’t be interested at that price, sir,” she sighs.  “I don’t know as I like doing business with a lady,” he laments, “It unsettles a man, begging your pardon, ma’am.”  Likely he expected to take advantage of her, not expecting her to be as shrewd as she is.  “Well providing it doesn’t unsettle you too much, I’d like to take a look inside.”  He agrees to that.

     Back in James’ drawing room, James interrogates Letty about her funds.
     “Sir Charles Helsby gave you £500 . . . Well, I want an explanation, Letty.”
     “Can you manage to wait until I take my hat off, James?” Letty asks as she unties her bonnet from beneath her chin.  “I said you should have told him, Letty,” Charlotte reminds her.  Letty sends her to have Mrs. Gibson make a pot of tea, “And shut the door when you go out.”  
     Letty sits on a couch, as James looks down on her.  “Are you going to stand there glowering at me all day?” she asks him, “Or are you going to sit down so we can talk?”  He sits down with a couple of “Hmms”.
     “The £500 was a wedding gift from Sir Charles and Lady Helsby.  When the wedding was canceled, I wanted to send it back, but they would have none of it.  Said I should keep it so that I would never be in need,” Letty explains.  No doubt Sir Helsby & his wife considered the apparent flux of the relationship between James and Letty might leave her asea financially at some point.
     “Well, it’s an extremely generous gift, Letty,” James protests.
     “Well, he’s an extremely generous man,” she offers.  Of course, he can well afford to give as the whim takes him.
     “Well, you should have told me,” James charges her.  “Well, I would have done, if you’d given me half a chance.  You’ve been like a bear with a sore head since you got back,” she charges him right back.  No doubt Robert’s accusations have made him grouchy, but he pretends it’s her.  “Well, whose fault is that, pray?  . . .” And at her look, he merely says, “Hmm.”
     “Well, anyway, what’s all this about William? . . . that engine of his out there,” James wants to know.  “. . . you have become a public benefactor, have you?”  “Certainly not.  James, he’s a very bright boy,” she poses, and he counters, “He’s a lad.”  “With some very original ideas.  He’s a born engineer . . . I’ve been speaking to Mr. Clegly at Frazer’s.  He thinks very highly of the boy’s work,” Letty lets him know.  He gets up and walks with more “hmms”.
     “I’ve invested £200 in William,” she tells him, which he repeats with incredulity.  “It’s a business investment, James, but it’s all mine.  And, since we’re talking about investments, I’ve had an idea that might interest you.”

     James and Letty go to see the mill.  The owner runs a demonstration for them.  “There we are, sir.  A fine mill, though I say so myself,” the owner says with pride.  “200 guineas,” James quickly offers.  “200?  I’m asking 400 guineas!”  James looks at Letty with his negotiating-tactic face, and counteroffers, “250, then.”  
     “No, sir.  No, I couldn’t.” the owner says.  “Very well,” James makes as if he is done with the negotiating, but Letty touches his arm, “James, please.  Hear Mr. Wharton out.”
     “Nothing to hear,” James walks around.  “The mill’s not worth more,” James insists.  “Oh, but it is!” the seller protests.  “You should see the trade I’ve done.”
     “All right.  But not this year.”  James, as always, has done his homework.  “Not now that they’re bringing the wheat up by ship and milling it on the dockside.”  “But we’re navigable here, sir.  I could bring in the grain myself in barges.”  “Well then, why don’t you?  I’ll tell you why not.  You’re almost scuppered, like most of the country millers around here.”
     “Ah well, maybe you’re right, sir,” the miller admits dejectedly.  “Two years the wheat crops failed, and I can’t afford the prices they’re charging for this foreign wheat.  Time was I milled the finest flour around here.  Still, I expect I’ve put you off buying the mill now, haven’t I sir?” he sighs.  But James has him where he wants him in the negotiations—feeling himself at a disadvantage.
     “Letty, the money,” James calls for Letty to bring her purse.  “I uh, hope you won’t object to it all being in gold,” James directs to the miller, “Call at my office tomorrow morning, and we’ll, uh, draw up a bill of sale.”  With that, James walks away.
     “But we haven’t yet agreed on a price,” Wharton points out.  “There’s 300 in there,” Letty nods at the bag he now holds in his hands.  
     James turns back to say, “Oh, by the way, Miss Gaunt would like to employ you to run the mill for her.”  “Miss Gaunt?  But I thought you were the buyer, Mr. Onedin,” Wharton says to James as he’s looking at Letty, but then walks toward James.  “Oh, no.  I merely advise her,” James says, and grins.  
     Wharton chuckles, “Oh, I see.  Stay on here?  I’d like that, I reckon.”
     “Well, what d’you think?” Letty asks James as they step out into the sunshine.  “Think?  Well, I think you’d better be right, lass, now that you’re the owner of property,” James turns to her.  “James, I wouldn’t be the owner of this property if it didn’t suit you,” she knows.  “All the same, I have to find the grain, don’t I?” he leans toward her.  “Aye, and plenty of it,” she nods.  “Do you think you’re up to it . . . at your age?”  She smiles, and his short-lived scowl turns to a smile as well.  (His age?  If Charlotte is 14 [age 9 in season 4, & season 5 is 5 years later], was born in 1872, and James was mid-20s in 1860, he’d be about 25+12+14=51, though he later tells his 3rd wife, before they marry, that he’s 47 . . . so, the writers have fudged his age over the seasons.)

     James sets sail for Philadelphia.  Letty, Charlotte, and William wave him off at the pier.  (This is another example of age-fudging:  supposedly William was 10 when Charlotte was 6 months old [S3 E1], season 5 shows him only about 3 years older than Charlotte.)
     While James is away, he has required of Elizabeth and Letty to keep William and Charlotte under closer scrutiny, as they are developing romantically.  Especially Charlotte is enamored with William, whereas he mostly just rebels against having others make all his choices in life.  Yet he is no doubt flattered by her doting on him.  
     The pretense Letty and Elizabeth use is that Charlotte has a cold, “It must be the longest cold in history,” she tells Letty, and she takes it out on Letty, whom she has always loved.  She’s unhappy about being unable to see William, bored with her life, bored with Letty.  Elizabeth tells her son that sometimes adults lie to the young, feeling it is for their own good.  She tells him that such was the case when she was William’s age.

     Out on the ocean, Capt. Baines says to James, “I still can’t figure why you’ve come on this voyage all of a sudden-like.”  
     “Because Miss Gaunt’s a very astute woman,” James tells him.  “Eh?  I’m not with you,” Baines queries.  “Hmm?” James is busy reading paperwork.  “Oh, I bought old Wharton’s mill . . . At, uh, her suggestion.”  James doesn’t explain that it was Letty who bought it with her own money.  That could be an embarrassment to him for more than one reason (for instance, where she got the money and why).  “But all the mills inland is goin’ out of business, or do I hear wrong?”  “You hear right,” James affirms.  “All the grain’s being ground at the dockside in the new mills just built.”
     “Ah.  This mill is built on a tidal river.  Look,” James shows Baines on a map (a part of the sales document he’s just been perusing).  “I can bring the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’ right up alongside, full of grain.  The finest grain that I can buy in Philadelphia.  Then, we mill it ourselves, and it’s profit all the way.”
     “You standing the whole cargo?  I mean standing the whole cargo yourself?  Not selling half of it beforehand for insurance?”  Baines wonders at the idea.  “Not one grain of it,” James delights to say.  “Well, you’re a game [one] sir, I’ll give you that,” Baines says.
     
     In Philadelphia James negotiates with a Civil War veteran, seeking 2000 bushels of grain.  He observes how to connect with the man:  the flag, the pictures on the wall, the pride with which he speaks of his cavalry troops, the arm he lost at Gettysburg, his “excellent rye” whiskey . . . and James knows how to engender a bargain and get past impediments.   
       James gets back to the ship “Not two seas over, four,” one of the crewmen comments about his obvious inebriation:  a crewman Capt. Baines had not permitted to go ashore because of his tendency to drink to excess.  James is washing his face in a basin below when Baines comments, “Well, I knew rye whiskey was strong stuff . . .”
     “Gaw . . . Let me tell you something, Baines . . . Cavalrymen can drink . . . ‘specially cavalrymen from the 5th Pennsylvania . . . But they are men of courage . . . and they are thrusters.”  James thrusts Baines chest, but he is the one who falls back, onto his bunk.  Baines helps him take off his boots, as James continues as drunks do:  “A fine company of men . . . fought in every battle in the Civil War . . . What’s more, trust a man who can hold his liquor . . . And what is more, their word is their bond . . . And what is more, they can sign a clearance certificate.” Baines punctuates with the usual kinds of condescending responses to a drunk:  “Are they now? . . . Is that the case, sir? . . . Can they indeed?”
     With his tongue pushing at his lips, James manages to take the certificate from his pocket to show Capt. Baines.  “This is for 2000 bushels, sir,” Baines reads.  “Aye, full cargo.  ‘Am I up to it,’ she says,” James refers to Letty’s challenge, and repeats himself as he falls back on his bunk chuckling as drunks do.
     Capt. Baines is not happy with the amount of loose grain.  Neither is the crewman who has had experience in shipping with a hold full of grain.  All well and good when seas are calm, but a storm arises, the grain shifts, and a man drowns in the shifting grain.  As it was shifting, James warned him to get out, but Baines still blames James for having to “prove” himself to Letty.  True, he was under-the-influence for probably more than one day, from drinking so heavily, but his pride prevented him listening to wise counsel.

S5 E7—James & Letty intend to marry, could have some “rare battles”
     James has bought a used steamer to carry 150 Polish emigrants from Hamburg, Germany to America.   He had gone to the villages of Poland and sold them tickets (presumably train tickets) to Hamburg, from whence he would take them to America.  William has come on the voyage, having found out about his parentage, and feeling the need to get away.  He’s enjoying the practical experience on a steamship.  
     James invites the young man to sit and talk, pours him a drink, saying, “Come on, drink up.  You’re doin’ a man’s job, you might as well have a man’s drink.”  After James asks William the real reason he has come, and they talk about that, James has another subject he wishes to broach with the boy.
     “Now I hear that you and Charlotte have been seeing quite a lot of each other,” James begins.  “We, we are good friends . . . She’s my cousin.  I’m very fond of her,” William defends himself. 
     “It’s because she is your cousin that I’d like you to give her the opportunity of making other friends,” James tells him sternly.  Now you take my meaning . . .”  “Quite, sir.” William responds.  “We’ll have another drink and say no more, hmm?”  James considers it settled.  
     A pipe bursts on the steamship, so James takes it on to Liverpool under sail, intending to transfer the emigrants to the “Charlotte Rhodes” (Capt. Baines reminds him she’s due to go into dry dock).  But the emigrants have bought tickets for passage on a steamship, and refuse to sail to America on a sailing ship.  After some back and forth about the time it might take for repairs, and that James had only promised to feed them while sailing (but the immigrants can’t afford to buy their own food while the ship is being repaired), they at last negotiate terms.  James will feed them while repairs are being made in Liverpool, if they contract their labor as stokers for the rest of the trip.
     While they are in Liverpool, one of the emigrants, a lace maker, seeks to sell her handicraft in Robert & Sarah’s shop.  Samuel tries to convince her not to accept employment among his mother’s sewing staff, buying her lace from her for an inflated price.  He gives the lace collar to Charlotte.
     “Oh, Samuel, it’s lovely.  Truly lovely,” Charlotte exclaims.  Letty looks at it closely, “It’s quite exquisite, Samuel.  Where did you buy it?”  “Oh, from a street peddler,” Samuel leaves out the details.  
     James comes in and names the lace maker.  “Well, young man, what have you to say for yourself?”  “I have nothing to hide, sir, I bought it from her tray,” Samuel answers simply.  “Hmm.  According to Mr. Rydze, you tried to entice his sister to stay ashore by showering her with gold.”
     “No sir.  On the contrary, I . . .” Samuel starts to explain.
     Letty can see that this might develop into quite a discussion and tells Charlotte she is to leave.  “Oh please, Letty,” Charlotte is anxious to hear the story.  But James tells his daughter, “Do what Miss Gaunt says.  High time you were in bed anyway.”  “When will you stop treating me like a child, Father?  I’m almost a woman,” Charlotte objects stoutly.  But James gives her the stare, brows lowered, and she at last acquiesces.  
     “How much would you say all this lace was worth, Letty, hmm?” James asks.  “Well, it’s a very good quality.  I don’t know, 25, maybe 30 shillings,” she estimates. 
     “Huh!  This young fool offers her almost double,” James is outraged.  “Uncle, I was only doing her a kindness.  Mama was going to pay her 15 shillings a week to work as a seamstress.  Well, that sewing room’s nothing but a sweat shop.  So I begged Maritza not to accept the offer, but to continue to America.”
     “Hmm.  You acted from motives of misguided sentimentality, on top of which, you caused a lot of mischief,” James chides him.  “Mischief?  How?” Samuel asks.  “How?  Because half those emigrants were all for marching ashore and settling here, convinced the streets of Liverpool are paved with gold.”
     “Oh.  I see,” Samuel says softly.  “I’m, I’m sorry, Uncle.  I just did what I thought was best.”  “Aye.  I’m sure you did.  I wonder if you would have offered her 3 sovereigns if she’d been a grey-haired old crone.  Here.  Take your money . . . I’ll see that she gets [the lace] back.  Now it’s getting late,” James says as he looks at his pocket watch.  “Say good night to Miss Gaunt and see yourself out,” James instructs his nephew, who exchanges “good night” with his aunt and leaves.
     James sighs as Letty chuckles.  “Young fool almost cost me a fortune . . . What if those emigrants had marched off and stayed here, eh?  A fine start that would have been to my emigrant trade,” James says as he sits next to Letty.  “It’s a good trade, too, you know,” he leans back contented.  “They walk on at one end and walk off the other.  No loading, no unloading, quick turnabout, and then back to the next lot.”
     “Oh, those poor emigrants.  They’re treated like cattle, and everyone exploits them,” Letty says.  “No, not me,” James begs to differ.  “They pay a fair price, and they get fair treatment.”  “And you make a great deal of money into the bargain,” Letty points out.  “Well, of course.  I’m in the business of making money.  So are they.  Why d’ya think they’re goin’ to America, hey?  To make money.  And I’m helping them,” James defends himself.
     “James, has it ever occurred to you that you can help people without making money out of them?” Letty asks without any discussion about the broader economic picture, or whether she is speaking only narrowly, personally.
     “Perhaps I should get another conscience, eh?” James teases her with what he had so often accused Anne of trying to be.  Letty looks up at Anne’s portrait on the wall, and says, “I can’t take her place.  Neither do I intend to.”  “I don’t expect you to.  Just remain yourself,” James returns.
     “Another proposal, James?” Letty teases him back.  “Miss Gaunt, I intend to marry you,” James tells her in firm terms.  “Mr. Onedin, I intend that you should . . . when I’m ready,” Letty answers.  He smiles.

     Maritza sneaks into the Onedin shop in the night, thinking Samuel will take care of her.  But Robert finds Samuel in an awkward situation and forces her to leave, never to come back.  Next day in the shop William and Samuel talk about it as young men do, with a bit of swagger on Samuel’s part.  But Samuel admits that because of the incident he is being sent away to New York City.  His father apparently trusts that Samuel won’t happen into, or seek to find, the young woman.  But though Samuel was attracted to the girl, he wasn’t necessarily smitten with her.
     Letty and Charlotte happen to be in the shop themselves.  Charlotte says to William, “You’ve been back 2 whole days and haven’t called on us.”  He tries to make excuse, but Charlotte says, “He must come back and have tea with us, mustn’t he, Letty?”  Letty is not quite comfortable with the suggestion, saying hesitantly, “Yes.  Yes, I suppose . . . Yes, of course.  That is if you’d like to, William.”  William, easily forgetting his conversation with James, replies, “Yes.  Yes, I would very much, thank you.”

     Toasting buns together at the fire in James’ drawing room, William tells Charlotte, “I had to tell you, because I didn’t want you to think ill of me.”  Charlotte squeezes his arm, “Oh, I’m so glad you did, William.  Father never should have told you to stay away.  I’m old enough to choose my own friends.”  
     “That’s exactly how I feel.  And, to lead my own life,” William agrees.  “Letty keeps saying I’m grown up, but for all that, she still treats me like a child.  Why shouldn’t we be friends?” Charlotte wants to know.  “I quite agree, but it will be difficult for us to meet,” William warns.  “Yes, especially when Papa’s home.”  William takes her hands, “Perhaps we could find a secret meeting place.”  They smile at one another.
      Letty comes into the room carrying the tea tray, “Come along, Charlotte, you can pour.”  William asks if there’s anything he can do, but Letty just invites him to sit.  William closes the door, first, though.
     “So, you decided to finish with your engineering work then, William?” Letty offers conversation.  “Yes, but uh, how did you know?”  “Mr. Fogarty paid me a visit this morning,” Letty lets him know.  “Oh, may I ask why?” William asks.  “Well, he was most insistent that he repay me for all the money I’ve spent on your engineering,” Letty answers.  “He had no right!” William objects, “I promised to repay you myself.”  “Oh, that’s his intention.  From your allowance.”
     James calls from the hall, “Letty . . . Charlotte . . .”  “In here, Father,” Charlotte answers with no qualms, while William looks worriedly at the door.  He stands as James comes through the door saying, “Ah.  In time for tea . . . Hello, William.  Surprised to see you here.”
     “I invited him to tea, James,” Letty excuses.  Whether or not James has told her of his little talk with William, we don’t know, but we know that she knows he wishes to dampen the relationship between the cousins.
     “Oh, did you?” James replies to Letty, then he directs to William, “Well, no need to go on my account.”  “I was about to leave anyway, Uncle,” William claims.  “Well, the engineers have finished those repairs.  We can sail on the tide.  Quite complimentary they were about some of those modifications you suggested.  Yes, they’re going to replace that pipe,” James tells his nephew.
     “And that’s all they’ve done, sir?” William is anxious to know more.  “Well, all that was needed,” James replies.  “But I still feel the fault lies elsewhere,” William insists.  “Oh, I think the engineers are qualified to know,” James may yet wish he’d listened to his budding engineer of a nephew.  “Yes, sir.  Well, I hope I’m proved wrong.”
     Charlotte stands and asks, “Letty, can I walk to the corner with William?”  She knows her father would give a different answer than Letty.  James gives Letty a scowl, but Letty answers, “Yes.  Yes, of course, if you come straight back.”  William thanks Letty for tea as the 2 of them take their leave.  Letty is too anxious to stand up to James herself.  Between her laxity, and his absence, Charlotte will pay the price one day.
     James straightens up from gathering tea and treats from the coffee table.  He looks down on Letty, she looks up at him, and says, “If you like, I’ll stand on the front doorstep and watch them all the way to the corner.”  “We could have some rare battles, you and I,” James fairly growls at her.

     After James has sailed with his emigrants, William has realized where the problem lies, and explains it to Letty and Charlotte.  A corroded tension spring that opens and closes the valve to the steam bypass system could jam the valve shut, and burst the pipe again.  And sure enough, it happens.  In the midst of a terrible storm.  The engines stop altogether, and the crew must “make sail, and fast”.  In the tempest, Maritza’s hand gets crushed in a door.  James has to amputate some of her fingers, luckily not her whole hand.  But she could never make lace again.
     James decides after this he’ll charter a steamship if he needs one, “Let somebody else have the headaches.”

S5 E8—Letty and the sack mending business
     While James is on a voyage to Palermo (Sicily) and Naples (Italy) for emigrants booking passage to America, Letty is visited by the rag man.  She wants to get rid of a small boiler/stove in James’ old stable, he notices and wants to buy old sacks from her for a penny a piece.  They’ve been torn by the hooks the dock workers use.  With the price of jute so high, such bags can be mended and resold.  He offers her 2 shillings for all she has.
     “If they can be bought at that price, Mr. Figg,” Letty reasons, “well, it wouldn’t cost much to sew them up.  I might as well go into business for myself.”  Mr. Figg looks around the old stable, and says with a chuckle, “Aye.  I’ve seen worse places for a sweatshop.”
     In the meanwhile, William is at Robert’s shop counter looking at gloves.  Charlotte comes in.  They have arranged to meet there, and each drops a letter, which they both bend to retrieve, each from the other.  
     Charlotte notices that the lady at the counter is upset, and when she goes to find more gloves in the stock room, William tells her why:  she’s been dismissed for being late the 3rd time.  
     The woman, Mrs. Purvis, tells William that they expect more stock on the morrow, so he says he’ll come back then, and he and Charlotte exchange grins.  He leaves the shop, and Charlotte speaks with concern to Mrs. Purvis.
     “William tells me you’ve been dismissed, Mrs. Purvis.  Well, if you’re any good at sewing, you ought to see Miss Gaunt.  She might have a job for you.”  Mrs. Purvis smiles gratefully.  
     Mrs. Purvis goes to see Letty at home, who tells her, “It won’t be the sort of work you’re used to, Mrs. Purvis.”  “Yes, well one can’t afford to be particular, Miss Gaunt.”  “Mendin’ old sacks,” Letty lets her know, to which she replies, “I’m very quick with a needle.”  “I’m sure you are, but . . .”
     “Listen.  My husband’s been laid off at shipyard, and, well, what with doctor’s bills for me mother and the children to feed . . .” Purvis explains her situation.  “But I could pay you so little,” Letty admits.  
     “You pay for each sack mended . . .”  “Well, that’s what I intended,” Letty tells her.  “Then the quicker I can do them, the more I will earn.  Well, do you know how much you will be paying?” Purvis asks.  “Well not really,” Letty says hesitantly.  “There’s a man coming to see me this afternoon.  He says he can supply me with all the old sacks I’ll need, but until I know what I’ve got to pay him . . .”
     “Well, can I come back when he’s gone, Miss Gaunt?”  “Well why did Mr. [Robert] Onedin dismiss you?” Letty asks in return.  “It’s like I said.  I . . . I’ve got me mother to look after, as well as me family, and, well, with me husband laid off, I . . . I had to take in a cleaning job early in the morning.  Well, that meant I had to go home and change and give the children their breakfast, and, well, I was late at shop 3 times, and Mr. Onedin, he . . . he dismissed me.  Can I come back this afternoon, Miss Gaunt?” she can’t help but sound hopeful.  One has to wonder if her mother is too sick to help out, the children too young to help, and whether the husband could not help with feeding and caring for them.
     Letty answers hesitantly, “Well . . . yes.  I . . .”  “Oh, thank you, ma’am.  I’ll be ever so grateful.”  The woman’s hope (and desperation) makes her so sure that all will work out.  Letty couldn’t help but feel obliged to oblige her, and she’s not sure she can.  
     Letty is sweeping the old stable when the rag man returns.  He doesn’t offer her any bargain.  He’s out for himself, naturally.  “Sixpence a sack, Mr. Figg, when I know you can buy them for a penny?”  “Well, if I have to scour the whole of Liverpool for them, there’s a lot of wear on the old cart, not to say the horse.  Got to think of my costs, you know, Miss Gaunt.”
     “If you supply as many as you seem to intend to . . .” Letty argues, but he interrupts her to say, “Ah . . . Thou’ll never make a go on it unless I do.  You should turn them over fast, you know.  No good payin’ the woman a penny a sack if you don’t give them enough to make it worth their while.  They’ll all clear off.”
     “Well, I’ll never make quite such a go of it as you, I fancy, if you sell me the sacks at 5 times what you pay for them.”  “Oh, well, happen I could meet you there a little . . . “
     Mrs. Purvis comes running in, explaining, “I thought I might get here too late,” she pants.
     “Too late?  Oh Mr. Figg and I haven’t even agreed terms yet.  I mean, there’s no question of the workshop starting for at least a week, you know,” Letty seeks to assure her.  “But there’s others on the way here, ma’am, and I didn’t want you to get all fixed up before I got here,” Mrs. P says, still breathless.
     “No one can possibly know about it yet, Mrs. Purvis,” Letty supposes, as Mr. Figg looks on squinty-eyed and sly.  “Yes, they do, Miss.  There’s Miss Dadswell, and old Miss Weston comin’, and Doris Briggs that was old Jack Hampton’s widow . . .”
     “The more the better.  That’s how a sweatshop works,” Figg delights to say.  “But I don’t want a sweatshop,” Letty objects.  “The more folks as want the work, the less you have to pay them,” Figg closes in on Letty and says in a low tone.  “That’s why I put the word around for you.”  Letty turns to him, “It was you!”  “Buyin’ off me at fivepence a sack, pay a penny to have them . . .” Figg proposes.  “A penny!  That’s wicked,” Letty tells him.  “It’s business,” the squint-eyed old man says.
     “I shall certainly pay more than a penny a sack to any employee of mine,” Letty puts forth.  “You’ll never compete unless you undercut the sack makers by at least one half,” the skinflint tells her.
     “I can still do that if I buy them off you at Tuppence each!” Letty cries.  “Nah, not worth my while at that price.  Sorry.  Can’t do business,” the old man hobbles out. 
     “Don’t let him go, Miss Gaunt,” Mrs. P comes near to say.  “We’ve got nothing at all if you let him go.”  “I will not pay you so little,” Letty tells her.  “I don’t mind doing it for a penny a sack.  Well, some of them others, they do it for even less.  We’ve got children to feed and menfolk, too, can’t get jobs,” Mrs. P explains, as we see that Mr. Figg is still hanging in the background.  He’s counting on the woman making the sell for him.  “We don’t mind working hard,” the desperate woman pleads.
     “Fivepence a sack, Miss Gaunt,” Figg sticks his nose in.  “Thr’pence,” Letty counters.  “If these good women are prepared to do it for . . .” Figg presses.  “Thr’pence, Mr. Figg,” Letty sticks to her guns, “for every torn sack you bring me, and that’s my limit!”  “Now I’ll have to think about it, won’t I?  Come back tomorrow . . . maybe.  Maybe not,” he grins slyly.  
     “Miss Gaunt . . .” Mrs. P pleads again.  “He’ll be back.  I’m sure he will.  He’s just trying to beat me down.  I can see that,” Letty busies herself with tidying.  “Well, I just hope you’re right.  But, well, it’s not as if you’re used to business, though, is it, ma’am, not being a man, I mean, like Mr. Onedin,” Mrs. P shrugs.  Letty sighs.
     “I’m sure he’s bluffing,” Letty tells Charlotte in the parlor.  “I mean, what can he earn as a rag and bone man?  If he makes it his job to keep us supplied with old sacks, well a regular order.”  “You don’t seem as confident as Papa would be, Letty,” Charlotte says between reading.  “Well, I’ve not had his experience,” Letty defends.  “You seem to be learning, though,” Charlotte comments.
     “I can only pay those women a pittance anyway.  Should be more than a penny a sack,” Letty debates.  It’s doubtful she has timed how many a woman could likely finish in a day, to give her something to go on.  “Heh!  Father wouldn’t give those women a thought,” Charlotte expresses.  “Well, I do!” Letty then expresses.  “That’s the difference,” Charlotte tells her.  “What, between me and your father?” Letty no doubt knows.  “No.  Between winning and losing,” Charlotte obviously credits her father with knowing how to be a winner.  Letty resettles herself in her place, “I’ll win,” she makes up her mind.
     Next day, as Letty awaits bolt upright in her place at the table, and Charlotte closes her book, the latter says, “Finished . . . Oh, it was beautiful.  About a big, silent, rather cruel man.  Very strong.  A bit like Papa in many ways,” Charlotte reveals the characters in her own story’s plot, as she sees them.  “There’s this governess that falls in love with him, and it turns out that behind his harshness he’s really in love with her, too,” Charlotte smiles at her own invention.  “Romantic nonsense,” Letty claims.  “Books aren’t life, Charlotte.”  
     Through the open window we hear Mr. Figg calling out.  “I knew he’d come back,” Letty gets up.  “I’ll go let him in,” Charlotte offers.  “No you won’t, you’ll wait until he knocks,” Letty says as both she and Charlotte run toward the window.  “Your father would.  He mustn’t think we’re too eager.  He might give us even better terms,” Letty says as they both look out the window (can he see them?).  Letty also recognizes James’ business acumen, and has learned some from him.
     “He’s not even stopping.  He’s going right past, Letty . . . He’ll probably come round tomorrow.  It’ll all work out,” Charlotte tries to be cheery.  “Like in a book?” Letty asks a bit peevishly.
     The day following, Mrs. P is struggling to help Letty move the little stove in the old stable.  Letty tells her, “It would have been a sweatshop, Mrs. Purvis, and I wouldn’t have wanted that.  It’s a good job he didn’t come back.”  “Yes, well we’ve got nothing coming in at all, Miss Gaunt.  We’ll ‘ave to go on parish [church charity; apparently demeaning, perhaps pitifully poor].”
     “Wait, Miss Gaunt,” Figg walks in.  “You win.”  “What price,” Letty wants to be sure before she agrees.  “Threepence a sack, as long as you take all I bring,” he says.  The two women don’t hide their delight, even right in front of him.  

S5 E9—Uncharted Waters
     Capt. Baines is overseeing the unloading of the ship as James is negotiating a price for his cargo.  “Damn it, man, the price hasn’t been as low as this for years,” James complains.  “I’m well aware of that Onedin,” his counterpart admits, “but it’s the current price here in Liverpool today.”  “We’ve done business together now for years,” James says.  “And I hope we will again.  Believe me, you’ll not get a better price.  Besides, you’re half unloaded [he hopes to use as a bargaining chip].  So, is it agreed?” the man offers his hand.  
     James looks over at the unloading, then turns back and grouches, “No, it is not.  I bid you good day.”  
     As the winch lifts a big bale overhead, James addresses, “Capt. Baines . . . Get all this jute back on board again . . . You heard me! . . . I’m afraid the price of jute is fallen in Liverpool.  We’ll take it on to Scotland.”  But as Baines tells the crewman to stop unloading, the bale falls.  James yells at his right-hand man, “Look out, man!”  Baines
 instinctively shields his face with his arms as the bale falls on him.
   “Capt. Baines?” James jumps down into the hold and moves the bale.  “You all right?” he asks.  “Oh, knocked the wind out of me, sir.”  James takes him by the arm and tries to help him up.  With a groan Baines realizes, “It’s broke me arm.”

     Letty is seated at the parlor table accounting for her women’s wages.  “Mrs. Morris 183,” she says to herself half aloud, “That’s 22 and ten pence ha’penny.”  She writes on the outside of a small envelope and puts the money inside.
     “You should have a clerk to do that,” Sarah says, seated next to her with a cup of tea.   “Clerks cost money,” Letty says simply.  “But you’re doing so well.  I hear you’re going to open another workshop down on the quay.  You must be employing at least 30 women,” Sarah realizes.  “Yes, I am.  But there’s not as much profit in it as I’d hoped,” Letty admits.
     “Well, why’s that?  The torn sacks you must buy for a song, and the cost of repairing them is trifling, surely,” Sarah makes a mental accounting.  “Three ha’pence,” Letty tells her.  “Ha’pence?  Oh, Letty.  You must be out of your mind.  My seamstresses work 60 hours for 15 shillings a week.  I only hope they don’t get to hear of the rates you’re paying,” Sarah bemoans.  This was long before Ford began paying his workers well enough that they became his customers.
     “Sarah, I can’t stay long,” Letty says as she packs up her accounting.  “The ‘Esther Lohse’ is docked.”  “Ah.  Then I’ll come straight to the point.  My committee is raising funds for a seaman’s home,” Sarah introduces her subject.  “And you want James to contribute?” Letty asks.
     “Well, after all, he does make his livelihood from them,” Sarah reasons.  “That’s true.  Well, I’ll have a word with him,” Letty promises.  “Look, for a substantial contribution, his name would go down on the list of benefactors,” Sarah considers a convincing argument.  It was with her husband Robert.
     The doorbell rings, and it’s Robert, come to pick up his wife.  He takes off his hat, saying, “Oh, thank goodness you’re still here, Letty.  I don’t wish to distress you, but I understand there’s been an accident onboard the ‘Esther Lohse’.”  

     “Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr. Watson [the writers delight to name him],” James tells the man as he gives him a shiny gold coin.  James goes back down into the ship’s cabin, asking, “How does it feel?”  “Well, it hurts a bit, but a bottle of rum will soon dull the pain, sir,” Capt. Baines grimaces, holding his slung arm.  
     James pulls out the requested beverage and 2 glasses.  The two men chuckle.  “Got any lodgings ashore?” James asks.  “There’s no need.  I can stay here, sir,” Baines replies.  “Couple of times up and down the ship’s ladder, and you’ll soon bust the other arm,” James tells him, making a point, if not an exact prognostication.
     “Oh, I can manage,” Baines the old seadog claims.  “Oh come on, man.  A spell ashore will do you good.  Warm bed, some good food.  You’ll soon be fit again,” James pours him a drink.  “I’m fit enough now, sir.  All that’ll do is just turn me soft.” Baines above all, does not want to go soft.  He’s not of an age to make getting fit again easy, but he is not of a temperament to have ever wanted to be soft.
     “Here.  If it’s money you’re worried about . . .” James has softened his edges toward his best friend (even though last episode he had to play it tough in order to effectively bluff the man holding Baines hostage).  “No, no, it’s not that, sir.  I got a few pounds put away for a rainy day,” Baines doesn’t want to be beholden for his own sake, though he’d asked for an advance to help out his sister in need.
     “The trouble with you is you’re so thick skinned that you don’t know when it’s raining,” James refers to Baines’ rainy day remark.
     “James . . .” we hear Letty’s voice.  “Aye.  Down here,” James gets up to meet her.  “James, are you all right?” Letty voices her concern.  “Aye,” he chuckles.  “It’s, uh, Capt. Baines here.”  “Thank heavens you’re all right,” she speaks with relief, but then realizes, “Oh, I’m sorry, Capt. Baines.  That must have sounded very unfeeling of me.”  Letty goes gently to the old man.  “Now, there’s no need to worry about me, Miss Gaunt.  I’ve just been told I got a hide as thick as a rhinoceros,” Baines says to both her and James.

     At home again, Letty polishes dishes as James walks in the parlor.  “I thought we employed a housekeeper to do that.”  “Well, if you must know, I got bored whilst sitting about waiting for you.  I thought you said you’d be no more than an hour.”  “Well, I’ve been doing some ferreting around . . . Mmm,” he says as she begins dishing up what apparently smells so good.
     “Uh, Charlotte in?” he asks.  “No.  I’ve sent ‘er down to the mill with the wages.  She’ll be quite safe.  The country air will do her good,” Letty answers.  “Letty, I’ve got some good news,” James begins, and Letty breaks in, “Don’t tell me you bought yourself a watch.”  “No, no, no . . . now . . . now listen,” he puts his hand on hers to pause her in dishing up the food.  “I’m listening,” she says.
     He takes her by the arms, “I’ve just been to see Harris at the bank.  Well, I’ve paid off every penny that we owe.  I’m a free man,” he proudly announces, grinning widely.  “Well, why didn’t ya say so in the first place?” she is also overjoyed.  “Here’s me standing here with a long face,” she rushes over to the cabinet.  “Here.  Where are you goin’ now?” he asks.  “Well, I have something to celebrate with,” she pulls out a bottle to show him.
     “Champagne?” James says softly.  “I’ve been saving it up for this moment.  I knew it wouldn’t be far away,” Letty tells him, and us.  It has only been less than 9 episodes since he was utterly bankrupt and deeply indebted, after the loss of Port Baines.  Charlotte doesn’t look like she’s even a year older, so that’s a lot of money he has recouped.  And though he came back nearly empty-handed on his second voyage following, he had 5 other ships sailing, trading all that time, and probably eventually some chartered ones as well.  It’s the way he works.  
     He did have that bag of gold Vega paid to him personally (episode 5), which he probably reinvested in his companies, somewhat surreptitiously, so none would suspect.  He seems to have made good profits from the “coffin ship” ventures to Ireland in episode 3, probably made considerable profits from the grain he brought back from Philadelphia (episode 6), maybe didn’t make as much as he’d hoped in the carrying of the Polish emigrants to America, but probably did well transporting emigrants in the last episode.  No doubt these are not the only voyages he and his ships have made.  But it still seems like a lot to earn in probably less than a year.
     “Miss Gaunt, you’re a remarkable woman,” is one of James’ highest praises.  “I know,” she is not too modest to say, even if only in jest.  “Well now that’s not the only good news.  After I left Harris, I went to the club.  I met ol’ George Avery.  Now he’s gone over to steam, as you know, entirely so . . .” James pops the cork.  It would seem that James keeps Letty well-informed on shipping news, at least in general, if not necessarily in every particular of his own decisions.  “He’s got a couple of ships laid up in, uh, Scotland.  So I’m buying them off him, for a song.  So apart from the jute, it’s been a marvelous day.”
     “Jute?” she asks.  “Aye.  I’ve discovered why the price of my cargo has gone down.  Some idiot has been mendin’ old sacks.”  Letty makes a face we can all chuckle to see.  
     At supper, Charlotte seems to have spilled the beans on the sack mending business.  James says, “You, mendin’ sacks out there in the stables.”  “Oh Letty’s got another building on the quay as well,” Charlotte explains further.  “Oh, has she?  And tell me, how many women do you employ?” James asks with dramatized patience. 
     “Thirty, but I’d like to take on more,” Letty admits as she folds her napkin, and Charlotte continues to feed information.  “Letty was thinking of using that old warehouse of yours on Burke Street.”  “Oh was she?  Well that old warehouse is worth a lot of money,” James directs his peevishness at the bearer of not-so-good news.  But Letty begs to differ with James’ assessment of the value of that warehouse.  “It’s falling down.  Even the bank can’t sell it.”
     “It happens to be on the site that the Harbor Board will be wanting in a few years’ time . . .” James informs the two.  “Well, yes, but in the meantime . . .” Letty begins.  James rips off his napkin from its place tucked under his chin, and throws it down, “Oh, really.  I go halfway across the world, fetch back a cargo of jute, only to find that you . . .” 
     “There you are, Charlotte.  I told you he’d blame me,” Letty puts the child, though a teen, between herself and her father.  “Well of course I blame you!  How else do you account for the fall in the price?” James blares loudly.  “Look, James, I’ve thought about that, and I can’t believe that my few women . . .” Letty defends herself.  But James sees a larger picture, “Don’t you realize that others have begun to follow suit?”
     Charlotte, essentially the child in the middle of 2 squabbling parents, gets up and asks, “Shall I bring in the coffee?”  But the 2 adults go on as if she hadn’t attempted to quell the argument.  “It’s always the same.  Whenever I try to do anything on my own . . .” Letty laments.  “Well, why d’ya have to do anything on your own?” James wants to know.
     “Well what am I supposed to do, play keep house for a man who’s never here, play mother to Charlotte?” Charlotte should not have to hear her say that, as though she resented it.  “Well, why . . . look . . .” James stammers, “Why can’t you just be . . . be a woman?” James strides around to face Letty.  Letty tells Charlotte, “Go and bring the coffee in . . .”
     “Oh, if only you two would stop scratching at one another!” Charlotte runs out crying.  
     “Now see what you’ve done,” Letty doesn’t take any responsibility for her part.  “All you want me for is a doormat,” Letty blames him additionally.  “Oh, rubbish,” James says as he sits on the other couch opposite her.
     “Is it?  You don’t like me doing anything on my own.  You begrudge me the success I’ve had with the mill,” Letty counters.  “No, I do not,” James claims.  “And William’s engine you treated as a joke,” Letty accuses.  “Well so it was.  Just playing at being an engineer.  A few good ideas, I suppose,” James begrudgingly admits.  “Well, he would’ve had more, if someone had given him some encouragement,” Letty’s voice softens, but then firms, “Look, James, all I ask is that you accept me as I am.”  She sits next to him.
     “I want you to be my wife, but you seem determined to become a businesswoman,” James separates the two.
     “No, I want to be your partner.  Someone you can trust and confide in, someone you respect,” Letty pleads her case.
     “Oh,” James sighs, “you mean like Anne.”  He looks up to Anne’s portrait.  “No!  No, that I can’t be.  I certainly have no intention of being a pale reflection of Anne Onedin,” Letty says, and we sympathize with her feeling that she has to compete with his idolized memories of his first wife.
     Letty gets up and walks over to the portrait, “It’s about time I did something about that.  She’s been watching over me ever since I’ve stepped foot into this house.”  In her imagination, Letty perhaps thinks that Anne is or would be judging her, or misjudging her, as not good enough.  She takes the portrait from its place on the wall.
     “Here!  What are you doing?” James is alarmed.
     “She’s dead, James!  Dead to everyone except you!” Letty yells at him, though he is not necessarily the only one who has more or less idolized Anne through these years since her death.
     James gets up and angrily shouts and gestures, “You put that picture back!”  “No!” Letty yells to his face, and he slaps her.  She lets go of the portrait, holds her face and walks away, as James stands there holding the portrait, shocked at himself.  He looks at the portrait, the back, the frame, whatever . . . probably realizing how Anne would have reacted to his behavior, whether toward herself or toward Letty, probably toward most any other woman who didn’t deserve it.  Maybe even some who did.
     He sets the portrait down, faced away from the room.  Letty is a bit in shock herself.  “I had no idea you still loved her so deeply,” she says in almost a mutter.  She takes a breath, walks over and gently says, “I’ll do it,” with the intent to rehang the portrait.
     James, also almost in a mutter, without turning to her says, “No.  Leave it where it is.”  He walks away, and she follows him.  “James, I’ve always known I could never take her place.  I want to do so much, and all I’ve done is hurt you,” she apologizes.
     “I hit you.  I’m sorry,” he apologizes, perhaps for more than the physical blow.  “No, I deserved it,” she takes it on herself.  “No, no.  Oh, it’s unforgiveable . . .”  At last he turns to her, “Seventeen years.  All the things I should have said . . .”  “James, I’m not Anne, and I never will be!”  He puts his hand gently to her face, and she leans into his shoulder with tears, “But I’m here . . . now.”  They share a tender embrace.
     By 17 years, what does James mean?  Has it been 17 years since Anne’s death that he has been mourning, regretting all he wished he’d said to her through their marriage?  Is Charlotte supposedly 17 years old?  That would make this 1889, and Charlotte’s 2 cousins would be 27-28, and clearly that is not how they are depicted.  He couldn’t be counting the years since he and Anne were married, since they were married about 12 years before Charlotte was born, which would make Charlotte only 5 after 17 years.  Is he counting the years since they were reconciled?  That was probably about 1865 + 17, would be about 1882, and Charlotte would only be 10.  So, it’s unclear what the writers had in mind.  If Charlotte is about 14 or so now (5 years or so after she was 9 in S4 E4), 17 years prior would be 2-3 years before Charlotte was born, it would seem sometime between Anne’s miscarriage and Charlotte’s birth—possibly about S2 E11 (when Elizabeth & Albert nearly divorced but were reconciled) and S2 E12 “Bloody Week” (1871).  Maybe it was not an exact number of years, but an estimate, but the conviction with which James says it makes it seem like he was counting the years specifically.  It just seems another case of fudged or unthought out dates/ages.  Maybe changes in the episode(s) were not carefully edited or revised.

     Sarah comes to see James about the warehouse she and her committee hope to acquire from him as a seaman’s home.
     “It has to be close to the waterfront, in an area that the seamen frequent.  And as the Harbor Board have bought up all the available sites, the committee have agreed that that old warehouse of yours on Burke Street would make an ideal place for a seaman’s home,” Sarah explains to James.
     With exaggerated patience, James says softly, “I see. And just how much is your committee prepared to offer me for it, huh?”  The wide smile Sarah has been wearing suddenly drops off, “Offer?”  “Aye.  Ya didn’t expect to get it for nowt, did ya?” James’ tone has toughened.  “Well as the place is almost falling down, we thought you might make it over as a gift,” Sarah poses.
     James’ voice is again almost a whisper, “A gift? Oh, aye.  Well, what do you think Miss Gaunt?”  “Well, it’s a very worthy cause, but isn’t there a foundation home across the river?”  “Yes, there is.  But if we had another seamen’s home, we could stamp out those dreadful crimping houses forever,” Sarah proposes.
     “Now what do ya say, James?” Sarah again appeals to him.  “Well, I’m sorry, Sarah but I have a use for the building,” James tells her.  Letty knows to what he’s referring, and says, “Oh no, James, this is much more important.  You must let Sarah have it.”  “Must I?  Very well, then.  You can have it . . .” James sets her up, and just as she is thanking him, he gets up and finishes his sentence, “for £10,000.”
     “What?!” Sarah’s face is so expressive!   Letty repeats the price with disbelief.  James goes on, “Oh, yes.  As you said, it’s a very rare site.”  “But James, £10,000!  That’s a ridiculous sum,” Sarah objects, and Letty says, “James, you can’t mean it.”  “Well, I most certainly do.  I’m sure Sarah’s committee can raise the money,” he says, sure of the opposite, “Why there’s plenty of people in Liverpool only willing to give to charity.  Eases their conscience, raises their prestige [exactly what brother Robert expects].”  
     “I had hoped you would be one of them,” Sarah states sourly.  “Hmm.  Well, I might be plenty of things, Sarah, but I’m not a hypocrite,” James claims.  Letty speaks up again, “James, I don’t really need that building.”  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and, well, I think you could make a profit out of that place,” James says in a tone that seems not quite sincere.  
     “No need to be sarcastic,” Letty takes his tone to be.  But he sincerely defends himself with, “I’m not.  I’m showing you my faith in you.”  James then turns back to Sarah and repeats the price.  As he’s about to leave the room James says confidentially to Letty, “That’s not a bad sum for a doormat, is it?”  He smiles and steps out.
     “Doormat?  What’s he talking about?” Sarah asks when he’s gone.  “I think he was trying to pay me a compliment, Sarah,” Letty smiles wryly.
     Later, Letty speaks privately to James.  “. . . all I ask is that you reconsider.  No business venture of mine could be worth £10,000.”  “I know,” he acknowledges.  “Well then, let them have the building,” Letty pleads their cause.  “I will if they pay my price.  You see, despite what you say, I do put a value on you, quite a high one,” James offers by way of proof.  “I know what you mean, and I’m very flattered.  But you always value things in terms of money,” Letty speaks in favor of valuing things for other reasons or in other terms.
     “Why not? . . . good way of measuring one’s achievements.  Degrees of success, failure.  Hmm?  Money’s quite a good yardstick, you know,” James puts it in terms that make sense to him.  “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” Letty says, but maybe she means rather “agree with” than “understand”.  But it’s the writers’ way of setting up the following:  “Your real self is out there somewhere on the ocean.  A secret world I know nothing about,” Letty does know that he values that life more than merely by monetary measure (yet he means to make a financial success of it).  To which James has a chance to respond, “So why not find out?  Here.  You’ve never been to sea, have you?”
     Letty turns to say, “No . . .”  And James offers, “Well, then . . . couple a weeks in Scotland would do you good.  Wouldn’t do Charlotte any harm, either.”  “Well, you know her Aunt Mary wants her to go and stay there,” Letty brings up.  “Oh, come on.  She can stay with Aunt Mary anytime.  What do ya say?”  “I’ll think about it,” Letty is noncommittal.  “Ah, woman, I sail tomorrow morning,” James is anxious for an answer.  “Well, by then I will have thought about it.”

     The plots of the series intertwine, as in life, and the lives and choices of other actors in stages affect the play of our own.  James’ sister Elizabeth has caught her son and James’ daughter meeting secretly and kissing romantically.  She is determined to separate them, and she and Fogarty (the boy’s birth father) have decided to send him to London, using the excuse of having him learn the business by running their office there.  Fogarty is trying to prove himself to Elizabeth so that she will marry him, so has decided to show her he values other things than money.  He absolves Robert’s debt to him, and gives Sarah’s committee the £10,000 to buy James’ warehouse.  That gives James a goodly portion of the money his brother Robert wants for him to buy out his share of their company.  All this will affect James and Letty’s lives and relationship.
     When Letty announces to Charlotte the plan for them to go to Scotland, Charlotte, who is used to Letty’s overindulgence, thinks only of being separated from William.  “But I don’t want to go to Scotland,” Charlotte tells Letty.  “Heavens, child.  It’ll only be for a couple of weeks,” Letty thinks that shouldn’t matter to a child of Charlotte’s temperament?
     “Letty, will you stop calling me ‘child’ in front of William?” Charlotte objects.  “If you’re not careful, my girl, I’ll call you something else, William or no,” Letty threatens.
     “I won’t go,” Charlotte insists.  “Yes you will.  It’s either Scotland or Aunt Mary’s.  And if you go there, I don’t get to go to Scotland.  So just for once, we’ll do what I want.  And I’m sure William doesn’t wish to hear us squabbling,” Letty says, but William is plainly enjoying the show.
     Letty sends William to get more hot water for the tea, then Charlotte tells Letty that she’s spoiling everything, “I’ve invited William around here for a purpose.  Now it’s all going wrong . . . He was going to ask Papa for my hand.”  As Letty looks stunned, Charlotte asks, “Well, why shouldn’t we get betrothed?”  “Because you’re too young, that’s why,” Letty quite reasonably argues.
     “Well, lots of people get married at our age,” Charlotte reasons childishly.  “Charlotte, he’s your cousin!” Letty objects.  “Albert was Queen Victoria’s cousin,” Charlotte makes a great case for people in power to consider the influence of their choices carefully.  “That’s royalty.  They do all sorts of strange things,” Letty dismisses quite truly.  She continues, “. . . that’s beside the point . . .”
     But Charlotte’s point is this, “. . . he loves me and I love him.”  “You think you do.  I know it may seem real,” Letty reasons as an experienced adult.  But Charlotte aims a dagger, “What, you mean I have to wait till I’m as old as you?”  “I think we’d better wait and discuss this when you’re in a more reasonable frame of mind.”
      William returns, “I hope you’ve both kissed and made up,” he teases.  “No, we’ll get no help from Letty,” Charlotte says.  William isn’t clued in to Charlotte’s intentions.  “Help?” he asks.  “When you ask Papa for my hand,” Charlotte tosses at him.  That fairly stops him in his tracks, but Charlotte doesn’t notice.  She had previously extracted an admission from him that they would marry, but he insisted that he choose the timing.  She wants it to be on her timing:  right away, or at least an immediate betrothal.
     Letty gets up and says, “Look, I think you’d be very unwise . . .”  “What did I tell you?  If she’d wanted to, she could have persuaded Father.  I’m sure,” Charlotte tells William.  That may or may not be true, but it indicates that Letty has influenced James before, in her behalf (For example, when Charlotte wasn't sure if her father would let her have the bedroom she wanted, Letty indicated that he'd "have to".). “Now, listen, both of you.  You’re both very young, and I think your wisest course would be to wait for a few years,” Letty tries again.
     “You see, it’s always what they want,” Charlotte hits a sore spot with William, who wants his independence.  So he goes along with Charlotte.  “At home I’m always being told what to do, and it’s always for my own good.”  Charlotte hugs him, “Oh, William, I knew you wouldn’t go back on your word.”  William looks beyond her to see a scowling James in the doorway.
     “Time you were leaving, William,” James growls.  As William is doing so, Charlotte takes his arm, pulls him to face her father, “He has something to ask you first, Papa.”  She looks happily expectant, William stammers out, “I . . . I’d like to ask your permission, sir, to become betrothed to Charlotte.”
     James angrily grabs William by the arm and drags him out the door.  He takes William to his parents.  “Elizabeth, this nonsense has gone on far enough . . . Well, tell your mother,” James insists.  “I simply asked if I might become betrothed to Charlotte,” William tells them plainly.  Elizabeth is outraged, Fogarty thinks he ought to have consulted them first.  “I warned you to keep him away from Charlotte some time ago,” James puts to them.  They don’t want him interfering in their parenting.  “It’s my daughter that he’s been courting on the sly,” James accuses, to which Elizabeth accuses Charlotte of being the instigator.  William insists that he’s going to marry Charlotte, his parents say no, and end up sending him to his room.
     “I’m taking Charlotte with me to Scotland,” James tells them.  “William is also being sent away,” Fogarty says, but they won’t tell James where.
     Back at home, Charlotte is crying into Letty’s shoulder, “I will marry him, I will!  And I don’t care what you or Papa say.  You won’t stop us,” her teenage bravado comes out.  Letty tries to console her, “Oh, Charlotte, don’t be so silly [not a good word choice in talking to a teen].  Now you know full well you can’t marry without your father’s permission till you’re 21.  And by then, you may feel very differently about William.”
     “Never!” Charlotte looks up into Letty’s face to say.  She’s young, infatuated, and can’t imagine ever  feeling any different.  “Well, if you feel that strongly, there’s no need to get betrothed, is there? . . . Or are you afraid that William might change his mind?”  Charlotte thinks that’s not the point.  She wants to feel the euphoria of expectant betrothal.
     James returns.  Letty asks, “Well?”  “He’s a determined young man.  And Charlotte seems equally determined to disregard our wishes [regardless if they are from wisdom and genuine caring about the future of the child they share responsibility for].  I see no alternative but to keep them apart for awhile.”
     “It’s all my fault,” Letty takes the blame, as usual, and certainly she is not entirely blameless.  “I should have kept a stricter eye on her.”  But James is not inclined to condemn her, after their late blow-up and reconciliation.  “No.  You can’t be expected to be a governess and a businesswoman.  No more can Elizabeth be expected to be a mother and run Frazer’s.”  This might be used by some as an argument for nannies, others for at least one parent being focused on parenting, even if it comes as an “opportunity cost”.
     “Are they sending William away?” Charlotte asks.  “Aye.  So when you return from Scotland, you’ll go and stay with your Aunt Mary.  I’ve sent her a telegram.”  “Father, if you think that’s the end of it . . .” Charlotte tries to say, but James interrupts her with, “I know that it’s the end of it.  Now you’re not marrying William, and that’s final.”  Typical of many parents, he thinks by ordering it, it can’t happen.  He is used to being obeyed, as a captain and as a ship owner.  He discounts how some children find ways around the boundaries, rules, and commands of the adults in their lives.  Typical of a child, she accuses him of not caring, and maybe in her case she has had some reason over the years to feel that.  “You don’t care whether I’m happy or not, do you?  And I know why.  It’s because I’m your daughter, and I’m not your son.  You’ve never forgiven me for being born a girl!”  She throws a dagger hoping to hurt him because he is thwarting her.  
     At first Charlotte’s very existence was the painful reminder to James of his loss, then there may have been a time, or comments from others that she overheard, that made her think that he wished she was a son to follow in his footsteps.  Certainly, he did want a son.  Perhaps she knew the connection he and Samuel seem to have.  Perhaps her grandfather, or her aunt Sarah made comments that made her feel that pain.  Neither of those two were very careful about what they said or who might hear.  Probably just in being around her more, as well as through Letty’s influence, James has come to care more deeply about his daughter (witness his cares when she had diptheria), but he hasn’t always been very good at showing it in a way that she recognizes it, or maybe she is just unwilling to admit it—especially in this moment. Although through Letty’s influence James and Charlotte are not as alienated as they had been, he has still been a mostly absent father. 
 
     James is eating breakfast when he gets the letter from Sarah’s committee, “I’ll be damned.  Sarah’s committee have accepted.  They’re giving me the £10,000! . . .”  “For the warehouse? . . . They couldn’t be so stupid,” Letty says.  “Oh, well, when you’re spending other people’s money, you can be as stupid as you like,” James chuckles.  “Now, the point is, do I accept?”  “Do you seriously mean you wouldn’t accept £10,000 for my sake?” Letty asks.  “Well, I thought I’d made that clear yesterday,” James reiterates.  The door bell rings, but even as she leaves to answer it, she says, “Oh, for heaven’s sake.  I can find somewhere else.  And even if I can’t, it isn’t the end of the world.  Of course you must accept.”
     Robert comes in and when he leaves, he and James have negotiated for James to buy out his shares.  Letty comes back in as Robert leaves, and comments, “Your brother’s looking very pleased with himself.”  “Ha.  So he should.  He’s just taken £20,000 off me,” James explains.  “You bought his shares?” Letty surmises.  “Aye.”  “Is that what you expected to pay?” “No.  But then I’m not exactly complaining.”

     James boards his ship and tells a crewman, “Johnson, get my daughter’s trunk aboard that carriage, will you?”  Letty is below, fussing about Charlotte’s trunk.  “Charlotte, you could at least show some interest.”  “Why?” Charlotte exhibits a typical adolescent attitude.  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl, stop sulking.  You can’t go to Scotland without any clothes.”
     James enters the compartment, “She’s not going to Scotland.”  “What?” Letty asks for some clarification.  “I’ve just had a telegram.  Aunt Mary’s leaving for London, and she wants Charlotte to join ‘er there.”  “London?” Charlotte asks with interest.  “Aye.  There’s a carriage waiting to take you to the station, so say goodbye to Letty,” James instructs.  Suddenly Charlotte’s mood changes entirely.  She kisses Letty goodbye and wishes her a good time in Scotland.  
     “Scotland?  But I can’t go there now, now that you’re not coming,” Letty argues, as James leads Charlotte back up top, “Come on Charlotte, we don’t want you to miss the train.”  Letty gets frantic, “James, my luggage.  Can you ask someone to take it ashore?”  “I’m seeing to Charlotte first, dear,” James chooses to be diverted.  
     As the carriage pulls away, Charlotte smiles.  She’s going to London, where William will be.  
     Back aboard his ship, James quietly tells Johnson, “Uh, get the gangplank inboard.  Give the captain my compliments, will you?  And, uh, tell him to put to sea at once, hmm?”  Johnson nods and smiles as though he knows what James is up to.
     Letty is struggling to move her trunk, though it would be impossible for her to get it up top.  James comes down and offers, “How about a glass of wine?”  He gets out the wine and glasses while she’s struggling.  “I really think I ought to get my things ashore first.  You’ll be sailing soon.”  “Oh, plenty of time for that,” James tells her.
     She hears a man up top call out, “Cast off forward.”  “What was that?” she asks with a voice of concern.  “Hmm?  What was what?” James asks innocently.  A man is heard calling out, “Cast off aft.”  “James, you can’t sail yet,” Letty is alarmed.  “We don’t want to miss the tide, do we?” James smiles as he’s uncorking the wine.
     “Oh, but I’ve got to get off,” Letty rushes for the ladder.  The sailors start singing ‘John Kanaka naka,’ and Letty runs down the deck to see that they have already cast off.  “James!” she says to herself.  She goes below, where James is whistling (without any superstitious compunctions).  “James, you turn back this instant,” Letty orders.
     “I was under the impression you wanted to come to Scotland with me,” he turns to her with a drink in either hand.  “But I can’t go now, now that Charlotte’s not coming,” she says, though she had previously told him that she didn’t care about gossip.
     “Well, let me show you some of that secret world you say that I keep from ya,” he hands her a glass of wine.  “I don’t think I’m going to like the sensation,” Letty sets down her glass, apparently unsettled by the motion of the ship.  James chuckles, “Well, I can’t help that.”  He walks over to her.  Their eyes meet, and he says, “Nor can I promise you a calm passage.”  They smile at one another with their eyes.

S5 E10—The real Adventure begins for James & Letty
     In Scotland James and Letty walk to the top of a hill overlooking a ship at anchor below.  James asks her, “Well, what do you think of her?”  “Oh, what a beautiful ship,” Letty’s appreciation can’t help but please him.  He smiles to say, “She’s one of a pair.  The other one’s homeward bound.  I bought them from George Avery.  He’s gone over to steam,” he repeats for the audience’ sake.
     “When can we go aboard?” Letty’s enthusiasm also can’t help but please James.  “Well, as soon as Baines gets to Oban.  Then we’ll all sail home together, in style,” James answers, and they look at one another, both pleased.  “It’s a beautiful ship,” Letty repeats, on this beautiful day made more beautiful by the ship of life they anticipate sharing.  Although at the end of the last episode James’ comment foreshadowed their passage through storms, at the moment none of those are darkening the day.
     Capt. Baines gets the crew in gear for the voyage back to Liverpool, “All hands, tumble ‘em out.  Look lively.  Owner’s comin’ aboard . . .”  In the crew’s quarters he pulls up the head of a drunken sailor from the table and recognizes, “Well, well, if isn’t little Billy Oakum.  What are you doing ‘ere?”  “I reckon I must’ve fell in with bad company [a crimp house].”  “At your age?  Billy, Billy, will you never learn?  Now lay aft and report to the sail maker,” Capt. Baines tells him.  “Oh, thankee, Capt. Baines,” Billy repeats, and salutes, for a position less demanding than some.  “That’s all right,” Baines tells him kindly.
     Another man that’s been crimped is coming to, having no idea where he is.  He’s a carnival barker.  “Well, you’re a sailor now, and you work the dead horse,” Baines has no sympathy for him.  It’s the beginning of a “beautiful” relationship, as Baines orders him up on deck and he answers with a stout, “No.”  “Don’t you backtalk me!” Baines grabs him.  A fellow crewmember gives him this advice, “You’d best do as he says, friend.  Otherwise, he’d beat you to a pulp.”  Capt. Baines recognizes that man, too.  
     “Well, well, Captain Jack.” Baines chuckles.  “That’s all I need:  a thief, a rumpot, and now a gallows bird, all in the same watch.  Now, I'm keeping a weather eye on you, Jack.”  Jack tells the carnival man (the thief), “Come along, friend.  I’ll show you the ropes,” and he does.  Baines tells the man that was crimped he’s costing the company £2.10 a month, “and my owner believes in value for money, so best foot forward!”  Surprisingly, the man is given  the position of steward (if Baines believes him a thief), but probably because he has no experience as a seaman, and wouldn’t give value for money.
     It seems James has been showing Letty around the ship when he opens the door to a nicely furnished room with, “And this is your cabin.  Oh, and I’m on the starboard side,” he literally points out, “Baines is aft, under the poop deck.”
     “My word.  I never realized a ship could be so luxurious.  Not a bit like the ‘Charlotte Rhodes’,” Letty admires her quarters.  “Well, she’s an old cargo ship, but this one’s designed to carry both cargo and passengers,” James explains.  
     Two seamen bring in Letty’s trunk, including the new steward.  He plays the part by asking, “Uh, will there be anything else you require, madam?”  “Well, I . . . I’d love a cup of tea,” Letty tells him as she takes off her hat.  “Oh, I’ll attend to it right away, madam,” he replies.  James asks him his name.  “Phelan, sir.  Pat Phelan.”  “Hmm.  Well, now, you take care of this lady.  See that she has everything she needs,” James instructs.  “Oh, I’ll do that, sir,” Phelan rubs his fingers hinting at a tip.  James dismisses him without paying attention to the hint.  When the man leaves, James tells Letty, “That Pat Phelan’s a shade oily for my liking.  I doubt he’s ever been aboard a ship before, though.”
     “You mean he was crimped?” Letty, who knows the meaning, remarks as she has just taken off her coat and is about to settle in.  “Aye, like the rest of ‘em.  Still, Baines will soon knock him into shape,” James has faith in his captain.  He looks at his pocket watch and says, “Well, time we was underway.  I’ll leave you to your unpacking.”
     For some reason Letty decides to look at her jewelry.  Might it be some James had given her?  One suspects that she is quite finely attired for an ordinary governess, though she is also a successful businesswoman.  It’s a beautiful case for her jewelry, and it’s possible she had it, even her jewelry, from her family heritage.  She has to work for a living, yet she wouldn’t be the only one who had inherited nice things kept and passed through generations.
     Naturally, just at that moment the new steward pops in, without knocking, sees what she’s got, but asks politely, “Oh, excuse me, madam, uh . . . I forgot to ask.  Uh, do you like your tea, uh, weak or strong?”  “As it comes,” she answers amenably, as she is wont.  One can’t help but be happy for Elizabeth and her to become friends, and for Caroline’s influence apparently out of Elizabeth’s life.
     At supper with Letty and Capt. Baines, James asks his captain, “Well . . .?”  “Well what, sir?” Baines pretends not to know.  “You know full well what I mean.  The ship.  We’ve been at sea eight hours and so far you’ve said nowt.”  “Well, I was just gettin’ the feel of ‘er, sir,” Baines answers as he peels an apple at the end of the meal, prolonging James’ suspense.  “Oh, come on then, spit it out,” James is anxious for Baines’ approval.  Capt. Baines extends the moment with a look at Letty, who smiles.  “It’s my considered opinion . . .” Baines pauses to munch on a piece of his apple, “. . . That the ‘Trident’ is the finest ship I’ve ever commanded.”  He smiles, Letty chuckles, James smiles and pours him another glass.  
     “Well, it’s certainly . . . she’s certainly the most luxurious ship I’ve ever seen,” Letty praises.  One doesn’t know how many ships she’s seen so intimately, other than the “Charlotte Rhodes”.
     The steward clatters dishes at the sideboard, so James tells him, “Uh, all right, you, uh, you can do that later.”  “Certainly, sir.  Uh, anything you say, sir,” Phelan secretes a bottle behind his back as he backs out of the dining room and quickly leaves.  
     “What is he?  Irish tinker?” James asks Baines.  “Well, he says he’s a sideshow barker in a fairground, but he’s a sly one, that’s for certain,” Capt. Baines judges.  “He seems most anxious to please,” Letty defends him.  “Well no crimped man should ever want to please anyone, Miss Gaunt, so you watch him.”  A crimped man doesn't want to be "asked" to sail again.
     In the crew’s quarters the dishes are quite dissimilar to those we’ve just seen.  Capt. Jack complains the meat’s rotten, while old Billy wipes his “platter” clean with his bread, saying, “Gamey, that’s all.  I like me meat gamey.”
     The steward comes in, “Ah, they look like fighting cocks up top [referring to their fine looks, rather than fighting].  But what the eye don’t see, the hearts don’t grieve over.”  “Ah, what is it?” Jack asks.  Pat laughs as he pours, “A drop of this and a drop of that.  Ah, they’re very generous with their leavings.”  Jack coughs, Billy coughs, then comments, “It’s not . . . not bad, that.  Not bad at all.”
     Pat gets quiet and confidential, “That, uh, that woman passenger . . . she has a case full of jewelry.”  “You keep your thieving hands off it,” Jack tells him sternly.  “It’s goin’ a-beggin’,” Pat says.  “Captain Jack’s right,” Billy concurs, “Pickins is one thing.  Thieving’s another.  We don’t ‘old with light fingers on ships.”  “. . . 'sides, 5 minutes after a piece was missing you’d find yourself in irons.”  “Take my advice.  Forget about it.  I don’t ‘old with thieving,” Billy says as he pours himself another drink.
     “And not unless it really pays,” Jack amends.  “Not ever,” Billy insists.  
     Capt. Baines calls for all hands on deck.  “Oh, God.  ‘ere we go again!” Billy chokes down a gulp of drink.  The crewmen file out of their quarters.  Pat takes a couple pieces of jewelry from his pocket, “Ah, well, I suppose I’d better put ‘em back.”  Working on a ship, with limited people and no quick escapes, is not the same as working a crowded fairground full of strangers, and plenty of countryside to run off and hide, with perhaps some hope of not being found, sniffed out.
     That night Pat slips into Letty’s unlocked room and puts the jewelry back into her unlocked box sitting on her table (expecting the seas to be calm, apparently).  She stirs, but doesn’t awaken.  Pat hears footsteps, and James knocks softly at her door.  Pat quickly draws a knife, but James merely says, “Good night, Letty,” and moves on.  Pat slips (or slithers, as one might describe him), out and back to crew’s quarters.  
     Next day Baines is shouting at the men, “Heave ‘er round, me lucky lads.  There’s booze an’ judies [prostitutes] aplenty waitin’ ashore.  Come on, me lads, put your backs into it!  Strike up, shantyman,” Baines sings out to the crew’s lead singer.
     “’Sing!’ he says, ‘Sing!’ and then backhands me across the mouth just because I told him I didn’t sign for no canary,” Pat complains to Jack when the get back down to the crew’s quarters.  “If a ship’s captain tells you to jump over the side, you jump.  You don’t talk back,” Jack counsels.  “And then when the bosun backhanded me, I damn nearly stuck a knife in his ribs,” Pat pulls a knife from about his person.
     Jack gets up from the table where he’s seated, to look, “That’s no working knife.”  “No, it’s a killing knife, for close work,” Pat says as he puts it back in the back of his pants.  “But this one . . .” Pat pulls out another and demonstrates throwing it, “. . . is for long range.”  It’s stuck firmly in the post of a bunk across the room, which is not so very long range, but suits to show the deadliness of Pat’s skill.
    “I’d never have thought you could handle a chiv like that,” Jack is suitably impressed.  “And there’s many others who made the same mistake.  Eh, in a fairground you learn to look after yourself,” Pat explains, and one can well guess why carnivals had a reputation far different than “Dumbo” portrays.
     “Taken a life, have you?” Jack asks.  “Aye.”  “More than one?” Jack pursues.  “What’s it to you?” Pat asks menacingly.  Jack walks over to the table.  “Could be you’re the sort of man I’m looking for,” he schemes.  Both men sit, and Jack looks back at the bunk behind him before continuing in a low voice, “How much d’ya think this ship’s worth? . . . £10-15,000, at least . . .”  “I mean, you . . . you can’t just sell a ship,” Pat points out.  “Ya can if it’s yours, if you control it,” Jack says.  “But there’d be papers, documents,” Pat points out yet more.  “Ships are changin’ hands all the time,” the more experienced sailor informs him.  “This one’s got new owners, and I doubt if she’s reregistered yet.  Ideal for the purpose,” Jack knows.
     “Damn me, but you’re serious,” Pat knows too.  “’Course I am.  Deadly serious,” Jack assures him.  “Look, there’s only the two of us,” Pat reminds him.  “And it only takes one who can navigate . . . me.  It’s the chance of a lifetime.  Are ya game?”  “Supposin’ we did take the ship.  Where the hell would you sail ‘er?”  “France.  Nearest port, so long as it’s foreign.  Sell it quick.  £5000 apiece.  You’d never have to work again.”  That is, if you don’t have to have an extravagant lifestyle, which would likely cause suspicions, unless one did so far away.  And if one is not addicted to “working” the game.
     “And what about the rest of the crew?”  “Once the ship’s ours, for £100 or so [a piece, one assumes—the crew would have some idea of just how much the ship would bring, but they daren’t get too greedy], they’ll follow, and them as doesn’t will feed the fishes!”  “£5000.  That’s a powerful lot of money.  Just how would we go about it?”
     The camera pans to show the wide-eyed shocked face of Billy Oakum as he hears, “The mate’s asleep, and Capt. Baines is on deck . . . First, we take care of Onedin and that woman, then the mate, then Baines.  By tomorrow night we’ll have the Isle of Man on our beam (directly across from the ship), and that’ll be our last chance.”  
     Billy slips and Pat draws his knife, “He was listenin’!”  Billy tries to deny, then to minimize, but his life is at stake.  He is forced to go along or be cut up.  Jack asks Pat, “What about you?”  Pat replies, “I’ll sleep on it.”  “You’d best stay on my side, friend,” Jack threatens.  Pat is not intimidated, and repeats that he’ll sleep on it.  
     In the daylight, the camera shows porpoises playfully swimming alongside the ship.
     Letty points the ship’s progress on a chart with a ruler, as she recites to James, her teacher, “Then we came down here, leaving this island on our left . . .”  “On our what?” he asks.  “Oh.  What was the phrase?  Oh yes.  The ship left port, so that means the island was on our port side.”  “Good,” James praises her.  “That means we’re . . . here?” she asks.  James marks the spot.  “Ah, you see?  Navigation’s quite simple,” he is satisfied to say.
     “Do you know, James, I really think I could take to life aboard ship,” Letty is pleased to say, and he is pleased to hear.  “No reason why you shouldn’t,” he replies.  “Well, there is one reason,” she points out.  He uncomfortably responds, “Uh-huh . . . Um, ahem.  Uh, Letty . . .”  A quick knock at the door, and James says, “Oh, damn.”  It’s Capt. Baines at such an inconvenient moment.
     “Miss Gaunt, would you care to come on deck?  There’s a school of porpoises keeping station with us,” Capt. Baines tells her.  “In a moment, Baines.  In a moment, huh?” James tells him.  Baines’ brows furrow as he realizes his faux pas, and leaves.
     “Hmm.  Where was I?” James asks as he scratches behind his ear nervously.  “About to propose, I think,” Letty helps him.
     Below deck, as crewmen are stretched on their bunks, Jack walks over to quietly threaten Billie, “You as much as go near Baines or Onedin, and you’re a dead man.”  “I’ve told ya, I’m with ya,” Billie is scared to say anything else.  “I don’t like being crossed,” his threatener intends to intimidate.
     “Wake up lads,” Pat comes in announcing loudly, “I brought you some breakfast.”  He laughs, “I woke up cold and thirsty, then I remembered this bottle in the captain’s cabin,” he pats the bottle.  “Real French brandy.  So I said to meself, if he wants the best out of us, then we deserve the best to warm our bellies.”
     “Like hell you do!” Baines has entered without notice, but quickly, physically makes his presence felt.  He knocks Pat clear over to Billie’s bunk.  “You keep your thievin’ ‘ands to yourself!  And the next man I catch stealing, I’ll pound to a pulp personally!  That goes for the lot of ya,” Baines says to all the men who are now in audience.
     While Baines is telling them, his back is exposed to Pat, who is ready to knife him, but is prevented by Jack.  “Later!” he whispers.  “Now are you with me?”  “I am,” Pat says in a low growl.
     When later comes, Jack tells Pat and Billie it’s time.  He tells Pat to check on Baines & Onedin.  “Billy, you see if the woman’s asleep.  I want you both back here in 5 minutes.”
     James is in the ship’s saloon writing in the ship’s log when Capt. Baines looks in on him.  “Miss Gaunt gone to bed, then?” Baines asks, and James affirms.  “Pity.  I wanted to show ‘er the Isle of Man.  The lights ashore twinkling like stars.  She’d have found that a picture,” Baines clearly has taken to Letty.
     Pat knocks at the door and James responds with, “Come.”  “Uh, is there anything else before I goes to bed?”  James says no, “Off with ya, then.”  “Ah, thank ya kindly, sir,” and he leaves.  James asks his captain, “Well, fancy a nightcap, Baines?”  “Well, I wouldn’t refuse one, sir.”  For the amount of screen time they are shown drinking, one might think the characters are alcoholics.  But they are not shown drinking all day, nor generally to excess, except certain characters and at certain times.  They no doubt have a nightly drink, and one or two to celebrate an occasion, but that is in moderation.
     Billy scuttles off to Letty’s cabin.  He pulls a note from his back pocket and slips it under Letty’s door, then thinks to tap lightly at the door.  He doesn’t stay to say anything to her query, “Who’s that?”  She looks out the door both ways, and inadvertently kicks the note back into the hallway without seeing it.
     Billy tells Jack that Letty is asleep, and Jack tells Billy that Baines and Onedin are in the saloon, as Pat has obviously reported to him.  Jack is sharpening his knife for action.  “We’ll take care of them [James & Baines],” Jack says of himself and Pat, “You’ll deal with the woman.”  She’s the least of their worries.  If Billy doesn’t succeed, it won’t affect their plans much.  “Do I have to?” Billy is squeamish.  He trusts that she has been warned.  Pat flips a knife in front of him, “Make it quick and silent.”  “If ya don’t, you’ll end up feedin’ the fishes yourself.  Go on,” Jack tells the frightened little old man.  
     “You take care of Baines.  Onedin is mine,” Jack tells Pat, who is now sharpening his tool of death.  
     Billy stealthily walks back to Letty’s cabin carrying the knife he’s been given.  He sees with alarm that the note he’d left is there in the hallway, outside her door.  He picks it up and taps frantically on her door, calling out softly, “Missus, missus! . . . It’s Billy Oakum, ma’am!  I must speak to ya urgent.”
     Letty puts her dressing gown back on and opens the unlocked door.  At the sight of the knife, she gasps, but he quickly reassures her (or at least tries), “No, it . . . it’s all right!  Just a minute.”  He shows her the note and asks, “Didn’t you read this?”  She takes it, “No, what is it?”  “Oh, my God!” he exclaims, “Keep yer door locked!” and he leaves.  She reads the missive, and we notice her eyes are rather overdone for those days, for a respectable woman, as she is meant to be.
     In the saloon James and Baines are sitting back relaxing with their drinks, James with his seeming perpetual cigar.  “You still got that frock coat o’yours, Baines?” James asks.  “Eh?  Well, yes.  Why?”  “Just see that it’s on the next voyage, will ya?” James says without explanation.  “Where is that gonna be, sir?” “Uh, West Indies,” James answers.  “Same run as the ‘Neptune’ under Capt. Baldwin.  “Baldwin?” Baines chuckles.  I’ll soon show him a clean pair of heels,” says Baines of his rival.  “Yes, I thought you might say that,” James understands their rivalry.  
     Two men with knives sneak quietly into the saloon and edge ever closer to their two unexpecting prey.  Pat lifts his knife, then suddenly screams and drops to the floor.  Jack turns and throws a knife at Billy, pins his arm to the wall by his shirt.  James and Baines, of course, jump into action and quickly subdue Jack.  Baines calls for the bosun to come take him away.  
     Billy is holding his bleeding arm as James turns Pat over to see the knife stuck in his back from Billy’s throw.  “I tried to warn the lady, sir,” Billy comes over to tell James.  That catches James’ attention immediately.  “Miss Guant?” James takes hold of Billy, but Letty appears at the door calling for James.  “Oh, thank heaven, you’re all right!”  James pants from panic, as well as the late rush of adrenaline.  He stands, sees Billy’s wound, and gives him full credit, “All thanks to Billy here.”  “Mr. Oakum, how can we ever repay you?” Letty humbly asks.

     After they’ve reached Liverpool, Billy comes to see Capt. Baines aboard ship.  “Just comin’ to say goodbye, sir.”  “My my, Billy, you’re lookin’ smart as paint,” Baines compliments.  “Look quite the dandy, don’t I?  Miss Gaunt bought me this,” he turns round to show.  “Soon as we tied up, she called for a hansom and took me off to the tailor’s.”  Without having rent to pay, Miss Gaunt must have more disposable income, though she does own a mill and a sack mending business.  It’s doubtful she would have asked James for money.  
     “You know, there won’t be a woman in Liverpool able to resist you, Billy,” Baines waxes a bit hyperbolic.  Billy chuckles, “Not with what I’ve got in me pockets, they won’t.  Filled ‘em up with golden sovereigns, did Mr. Onedin.” Billy jingles them to demonstrate.
     “Aye.  Listen, next trip out, we’re going to the West Indies.  Now, I’ll find you a soft berth and bring the color back to yer cheeks,” Capt. Baines offers magnanimously.  “Capt. Baines, I was born with color in me cheeks.  It’s sailing ships what’s drained it out.  No, no.  From now on, it’s steam ships for me.”  Baines laughs with quiet amusement.
     James walks in, “Not gone home yet, Billy?”  “Oh, uh, just sayin’ me last farewells, sir . . . Oh, uh, what ‘appened to them two?”  “Oh, your shipmates?” James chuckles, “Safely under lock and key.  Even if they do escape the gallows, it’ll be many a long year before you see ‘em again, Billy.”  So, Pat didn’t die, motionless as he’d lain from Billy’s knife.  But no matter how many years, one may imagine that those 2 would ever after vow to come after Billy.  We can only hope that they never get out of incarceration, though probably he would come to a peaceful rest before they were released, old as he is.
     “Ah.  Well, I can go out and enjoy meself proper!” Billy anticipates.  “Yeah, until your money runs out.  Now listen, Billy, why don’t you go and stay at one of these new Seamen’s Homes?” Capt. Baines advises.  “What are them?” Billy asks.  “The Prince Albert Foundation Home for Sailors.  Take my advice.  Sign yourself on there,” James adds his counsel to Baines’.  

      At the breakfast table at home the next morning, Letty eats, James reads the paper, Charlotte mostly sighs.  William has also returned from London, and has been put in charge of the Frazer companies, with his parent’s oversight.  He’s quite impressed with the responsibility, and takes it very seriously, much to Elizabeth’s clerk Dunwoody’s discomfort with a boss that has quite different ideas and ways than Elizabeth and even Fogarty.  When William didn’t show as much attention to Charlotte as she thought he ought, she was miffed.
     Letty has to call to her twice to get Charlotte’s attention.  She begins with a subject she knows will interest the girl, “We assume you’ve seen something of William since you returned to Liverpool.”  “Yes, but at the moment, he seems rather preoccupied with business.”
     “Is he indeed,” James reveals that he isn’t so engrossed in the paper that he doesn’t notice his daughter’s own preoccupation.  
     Mrs. Gibson announces Capt. Baines.  “Morning, Miss Gaunt.  I’m sorry to interrupt your breakfast, sir,” Baines apologizes.  “Yes, well now that you have . . .” James is peevish, whether at Baines or Charlotte we can only guess.  
     “Well, I did like you said and put the word around to keep a weather eye open for Billy Oakum, sir,” Capt. Baines reports.  “Billy Oakum?  What’s happened to him?” Letty asks.  “Well that’s the point, ma’am.  I don’t rightly know.  He was seen last night with a couple of . . .” Baines clears his throat in embarrassment.  “Well . . . female persons, and they were takin’ money off ‘im left, right, and center.”
     “Well . . . Billy never could keep out of trouble,” James has folded his newspaper.  “Yeah, the crimps’ll have ‘im fer sure,” Baines says quietly, then increases his volume to say, “Some bucko [tough]  [1st] mate gets hold of ‘im, it’ll be the last voyage that Billy makes.”  James slams his paper down and pushes away from the table, plops his napkin on the table as well with a sigh.  “All right, then.  He deserves better than that.  Come on.”
     “James, take care,” Letty no doubt knows that crimping houses can be rough, dangerous places.  He smiles at her as he puts on his coat, then gruffly tells Charlotte to finish her breakfast.  Instead of being upset, she smiles and silently laughs toward Letty.

     We get a glimpse of life on the streets in the neighborhood of the crimping houses as James and Baines go searching for Billy.  Two men take turns making out with a woman, two sailors sit quietly chatting over pipes and pints.  A woman comes up to Baines and puts her arms around his neck.  He extracts himself, and she goes looking elsewhere.  A music box musician churns out his garish tune.  
     “This is the 5th place we’ve tried,” James tells Baines, in case he has lost count, and to let us know.  “Sixth,” Baines corrects him, “My knuckles is quite sore from asking questions.”  James chuckles at that.  “Long time since I’ve been in this part of Sailortown,” James admits.  Capt. Baines has to send another “friendly” woman on her way.
     “Ma Gammon’s Boarding House,” James reads the sign where all are welcome, for a price.  “Still in business.”  “Aye, and still the biggest rogue in the game.  Come on,” Capt. Baines leads on.  James grins, perhaps remembering many years ago.  
     Inside, while some drink and play cards, another woman comes up and puts her arms around Capt. Baines, an obvious seaman.  “Aw no, lady.  Come on, now,” he pushes her away.  Ma Gammon comes from behind a blanket curtain, smoking a pipe and looking more like a man than a woman.  
     “Why, if it ain’t Capt. Baines,” she greets him.  He’s probably come looking for hands more recently than James.  “You lookin’ for a crew?”  “No, I’m lookin’ fer Billy Oakum.  ‘ticed off the street by one of your doxies [women].”  “Capt. Baines, how can you suggest such a thing?  I runs an honest establishment,” she claims, despite knowing he knows all about her.
     “He was last seen in this neighborhood,” James inserts.  Ma’s jaw drops, as she recognizes, “Mr. Onedin, I do believe!  Little Jimmy Onedin!”  She comes rushing up for a big embrace, with “’ow you’ve grown . . .”  James ducks and swerves around to hold her secure from behind.  “Now listen, Ma.  I want that man.  I want him now.”  She scowls.  “Billy Oakum,” she repeats and shakes her head.  “Don’t ring no bells.  But I’ll speak to Tiny Tim,” she tries to intimidate.  “No, you will not,” Capt. Baines orders, “Not ‘til I search this warren from top to bottom,” Baines grabs her arm.  “And if I don’t find ‘im, I’ll come back and burn this pest house down around your ea . . .”
     Baines has been backing away as he speaks, but turns around to see a big man wielding a knife.  “Tiny Tim!” Ma cries out.  “Now you try it,” Baines says in a low tone, “and I’ll tear your arm off.”  He gives the man the squint eye, and glances sidewise to see James giving the man a like stare.  The knife disappears, and the man with a scar on his cheek walks past Baines and James.  
     Baines turns to James and indicates with a gesture, “This way, sir.”  “Thank you, Baines,” James nods and walks in the direction indicated.  Ma takes a puff on her pipe and spits as they go.
     Into a dirty room full of men on small beds as well as the floor James and Baines walk, James kicks a can.  Baines roughly grabs men by their vestures, turning them to see their faces.  “Looks as though Ma Gammon was tellin’ the truth,” James supposes.  “Aye,” Baines agrees, but hears a familiar voice groaning.  He pulls the blanket off a man, “No she wasn’t.  Here he is,” Baines chuckles.
     James lifts Billy and tries to rouse him, roughly gentle.  “Oh . . . I were took,” Billy excuses.  In walks a big bearded anti-Santa.  “Oh, God bless us,” James remarks.  “This must be Tiny Tim.  Ahem.”  Perhaps the other was an imposter, or Ma wanted them to think he was, or she was calling for him.
     James moves to one side of the man, as Baines says, “We don’t want any trouble, Tiny,” distracting him while James reaches into his pocket.  Isn’t it handy that they started sewing them into the pants?  “No, we do not want any trouble, Tiny,” James reiterates.  The two men move around the big man, keeping their faces toward him.  “Now look, here’s a sovereign, see, and it is yours” James shows him, then tosses it in the air and Baines gives him a powerful blow to the abdomen while he’s watching the coin up in the air.  Could be called the “Squirrel Play”.  The coordination between the two makes us wonder if they haven’t had some practice with the maneuver.   The big man falls with a groan, out like a light.
     James goes over to Billy’s bed and sits him up.  “I think you’d be safer off sailing with us, you know.  Heh, here, how would you like to be captain’s steward, eh?” James is in full salesman mode.  That catches the hung-over Billy’s attention, “Captain’s steward?  Me?”  “Aye,” James agrees.  Baines includes, “And all the perks.”  “I’ll be the best steward you’ve ever got,” Billy promises.  “You certainly will.  I’ll see to that,” Baines promises in turn.
     Ma Gammon comes in, “What ya done to Tiny Tim?” she interrogates.  “Go on, then take him out,” James tells Baines, as Baines answers Ma, “He overreached himself ma’am, and ran out of breath.”  James hands Billy to Baines to take out.  “Time to close the shutters, Ma, I think,” James grins at her.  “While there are men like you needin’ crews, Captain?”  He laughs and pats her cheeks in a cheeky way, then leaves.  Tiny Tim’s hand starts to move, but Ma sees the coin and steps on his hand so she can grab the coin.  She bites it to test its purity.

     Back in James’ parlor (Anne’s portrait has been replaced by a painting of antlered animals, not ships.  Who could have chosen that?), Mrs. Gibson hands Robert a telegram.  “Oh, yes, it’s from Elizabeth.”  “Will she be back in time?” Sarah asks.  “Yes, she seems to think so . . .” Robert draws in a breath, but notices Mrs. Gibson cocking her head to read the telegram.  “Thank you, Mrs. Gibson.  It is private.”  She leaves in a little tiff.
     “Is that all she has to say,” Sarah asks.  “No, she goes on to say that . . .” Robert stops reading and slowly sits down.  “Oh, great heavens,” he finally says.  “I knew it,” Sarah is suspicious, after all she’s done to prepare for the wedding and reception, and being embarrassed by the cancellation of James and Letty’s wedding!  “I knew it!  They’ve eloped!  I’ll never live this down!”  
     “No, no!” Robert explains, “They’ve both been received in audience . . . by the Queen! . . . at Balmoral.  And that’s by no means all . . . here, you better read it yourself,” Robert hands the letter to his wife.  When she reads it, she puts her hand to her head, “I . . . I think I’m going to faint.”  “Oh now, don’t be ridiculous!” Robert goes to her as she plops onto the couch opposite.  Letty goes to the door as James walks in.
     “What’s going on?  What’s happening?” James asks as he closes the door.  Robert picks up the telegram his wife had dropped.  “Daniel Fogarty.  He’s been knighted.” Robert at last reveals.  James looks at the telegram for confirmation.  “I thought it must be something like this,” James says.  At Robert’s skepticism, he goes on, “Oh, come on, Robert.  Aberdeen, the Queen in residence at Balmoral?  Well, it does all rather add up, doesn’t it?”  “Oh, really, James!” Letty is incredulous, “I don’t believe that even you could have foreseen this.”  
     “Oh, Letty, come on.  Now, a man gives a small fortune to start a private charity, then, he is canny enough to call it ‘The Prince Albert Foundation Home for Sailors’.  Well . . . how better to touch the heartstrings of our Sovereign Queen, now?” James grins.  
     “Yes, but . . .” Robert is still trying to take it in.  “Sir Daniel Fogarty?” Robert tries how it sounds.  “Lady Elizabeth,” Sarah tries the sound of that.  “Our Elizabeth, a Lady!” Sarah exclaims.  “Robert . . . We are related to the nobility.”  “Well, it’ll add a little extra luster to our reception,” Robert says.  “It’ll be a day to remember!” Sarah agrees.  James leans over and speaks quietly so that only Letty can hear, “Certainly will.”
     On the day of the wedding of the Fogartys—Sir Daniel and Lady Elizabeth—Elizabeth is late, waiting for James to bring her to the church.  At last she comes without him.  Charlotte is her maid of honor.  Robert ends up having to give her away instead of being best man, and William has to fill that role.  Samuel is still in America.  James and Letty are nowhere to be seen.
     When at last the ceremony is over, a telegram comes from James while the pictures are being taken.  Robert reads, “Good heavens, it’s for me . . . I’ll be damned.”  Sarah comes over, “Hope it’s not bad news.”  “It’s from James,” he tells her, and hands her the telegram.  She reads, “Sorry can’t be with you.  Letty and I likewise engaged at sea”.  “What does it mean?” she asks her husband.  “Well, it means they’ve got married, of course.”  Sarah is delighted, “Oh Robert, just think.  We’ll all be family together at last.  No more quarreling or bickering.”  “Don’t you believe it,” Robert tells her, “Honeymoons don’t last forever,  you know.  They’ll be at it hammer and tongs [reference to blacksmithing] when they get back.  Mark my words.”

     Aboard ship Captain Baines reads the ceremony, “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy state of matrimony?  Wilt thou love her, comfort her [in a time when infant mortality was so high, this was most important, rather than blame], honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”  Letty looks up at James, James looks straight forward and states solemnly, “I will.”  
     “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.”  Capt. Baines closes the book, and says, “And now, I’m going to claim the captain’s privilege of kissing the bride.”  He gives her a peck on the cheek and wishes her, “Long life and happiness to you, Mrs. Onedin . . . And congratulations to you, sir.”  Letty and James thank Capt. Baines, he tells the 2 crewmen serving as witnesses, “Well, don’t stand there gawping, you two.  These folks want to be on their own.”
     While it may be tempting to comment on the irony of the colors of the wedding dresses:  Elizabeth appears to be wearing white, Letty is in a blue or grey or light purple outfit (It’s hard to tell with the 40 year old film.), it must be remembered that white did not become the standard for wedding dresses  until after WWII when white fabrics were more common, less expensive.  Queen Victoria wore white for her wedding in the 1840s, so that made it popular for those who could afford it, which Fogartys certainly could.  But Letty and James wanted less ostentation.
       “’A quiet wedding’ you said,” Letty remarks as she looks at her simple gold wedding band.  “Well, you certainly got your own way,” she looks up to him.  He smiles at her, “I usually do.”  “Well . . . we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”  They smile at each other, and he kisses the bride.

S6 E1--The difference between Letty and James
     Letty is hanging a tapestry in the sitting room.  “Took 3 months to do that tapestry,” she tells Elizabeth who is there giving her input, “I hope James likes it.”  
     Elizabeth brags about how well the Frazer Shipyard is doing.  “Oh, cheer up, Letty” Elizabeth tells her, “Your business will pick up, you’ll see.”  But Letty’s worried about the price of jute bags continuing to fall.  That’s not good for her business.  “The women are barely makin’ a living now.”
     “Well then, some of them will have to go,” Elizabeth tells her easily (more flippantly than when she and Daniel advise William about being an employer).  But she can see that her friend and sister-in-law is upset about something else, and sits down beside her to ask gently, “Letty what is it?”  She doesn’t accept Letty’s glib answer that it’s her business worries just described.  “I mean the real problem.  Something to do with James,” she guesses.  Letty claims she’s just feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all.”  “You’re sure?”  “Yes.”
     Letty gets up and while facing away from Elizabeth, says, “As a matter of fact, I went to see Dr. Porton the other day.  Is he reliable?”  “Why?”  “Just wondered, that’s all.”  Elizabeth takes another guess, a happier one, “Letty, you’re not . . .”  “No,” Letty doesn’t allow her to finish that sentence. 
     “Oh, I see.  And that’s the trouble, is it?” Elizabeth surmises.  “Well, I’m not exactly a young maiden, am I?” Letty worries about her fertility.  “I was . . . Well, I thought I might be barren.”  “Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Elizabeth tells her.  “You’re perfectly healthy.  You’re probably just overanxious, that’s all.  Some women go for years before having a child [as Anne had].” 
     “That’s exactly what Dr. Porton said,” Letty admits, but it seems to neither convince nor comfort her, as Elizabeth thinks it should.  “There you are then.  James isn’t worried, is he?”  “James?” the question takes Letty aback.  “No, oh, Elizabeth I’d rather you didn’t . . .”  But Elizabeth doesn’t give her a chance to finish before breaking in, “Give him a son.  That’s what he really wants,” Elizabeth draws near, “Even though he won’t admit it.”
     The bell rings, Elizabeth thinks that’s probably Dunwoody, her chief clerk, and says she needs to go.  “Now don’t worry,” she kisses Letty goodbye.  

     Samuel returns from America, grown, and growing porkchops.  He accompanies his mother to Josiah Beaumont’s party.  Beaumont has moved to Liverpool, and moved in on Harris’ bank.  While William is flattered by him, Elizabeth has taken a sound disliking to him.  After the party, the amused Samuel tells his equally bemused Aunt Letty all about it.
     “And having [asked her son William to summon the carriage, as she finds ‘the atmosphere oppressive’], she swept out.  Within 5 minutes all the other guests had left as well.”  “Poor Mr. Beaumont,” Letty laughs.  “Oh, I doubt you’d say that if you’d met him, Aunt Letty.”  “Oh I feel sorry for anyone who gets on the wrong side of your Aunt Elizabeth.”  Letty is busy looking here and there for her sewing things as they continue talking.
     “Did you have a chance to talk to William?” Letty asks.  “Yes, yes.  He seems to have changed a lot.  Are he and Charlotte still seeing one another?”  “Um . . . yes, occasionally” Letty hesitates, but then quickly goes on, “Still, I know she’d like to see you, Samuel.  You must come to tea one day, if you can get away from the store.”
     Samuel turns serious.  “Yes, I’m afraid that once Father gets back [from a business trip], that store looks like being my prison, unless I do something about it.”  “Oh dear, Samuel, you’re not still hankering after the sea, are you?”  “It’s what I’ve always wanted, Aunt Letty.  It’s not just the ships, I want to travel.  I want to see the rest of the world.”  
     “Perhaps your father would agree,” Letty poses optimistically, “You won’t know ‘til you ask him, will ya?”  “No,” he bemoans, “Robert Onedin and Son.  That’s the future they’ve planned out for me.  I’ll not be able to make a decision of my own until my father’s in the grave.  By then I’ll be so old I won’t want to change anything.”
     “You see, the point is, Aunt Letty, unless I go now, I’ll never get away,” Samuel is no longer sitting comfortably, but now pacing about the room.   “And the trouble is, I know it’s going to hurt Father dreadfully.” 
     “Look, Samuel, I’m really flattered that you should confide in me . . . I’m going to give  you some advice.  Now your father’s due home soon, and like as not . . . you’ll tell him before he’s got his coat off.  Well don’t.  Give ‘im time to settle down.  Wait a few days.  A week, even.  Then introduce the subject gradually.”
     “Is that how you do it with Uncle James?” Samuel smilingly surmises.  “Don’t be so cheeky,” she points to him with a sly smile and a chuckle.

     When James returns to Liverpool from a voyage to South Africa, he’s brought back Daniel Fogarty and invited him to tea.  As the men talk business, Elizabeth tries on a gorgeous shawl Daniel brought for her, and Letty exclaims over the fine needlework of the China doll gift for her.  
     Elizabeth notices the African war shield James brought back as a souvenir, “Oh James, wherever are you gonna hang this?”  He strides right over to take it from her, “Oh, I know just the place for that [he chuckles].”  He takes it to the wall where Letty had hung her tapestry.  “Right over . . . where the heck did that come from?”  “D’ya like it?” Letty asks.  He’s a bit nonplused.  “Well, it’s um . . . well, it’s different, yes.”  What’s different to a man is different from what’s different to a woman.  To him the tapestry is “different”, to her the shield must surely be “different”.
     “Right,” Letty changing the subject, indicates they should go ahead and eat, not waiting for Charlotte.  She sits at the table with a big ham on it, as well as other dishes and dishware.  “You know that that girl gallavants around too much,” James comments.  He invites everyone to sit down, which they are already doing, and he returns to what he was saying, “Still, there’s one consolation, Letty.  Once Charlotte’s off our ‘ands, we’ll do some gallavanting around ourselves, eh?  Just the two of us, alone.”  Letty and Elizabeth exchange looks.

S6 E2—Shall Letty and James have a son?
     “And why must we continue to live in a hovel like this?” Charlotte asks Letty as she paces the sitting room.  “Your father and I find it quite comfortable,” Letty answers as she works on sewing and has to continually look for notions. 
     “Comfortable!  Oh, why can’t we have a country residence like Uncle Robert, or a townhouse like Aunt Elizabeth?”  “Perhaps they have a position to keep up.”  
     “Well Papa could well afford it.” “Well, no doubt, but he chooses to live here.”  
     “And the neighborhood is positively run down.”  “Charlotte--it’s not exactly a slum!”  
     “I have nowhere, absolutely nowhere to entertain my friends.”  “If your friends are only impressed by appearances, perhaps you should choose them with more care.”
     The bell rings, Charlotte looks out the window, and says, “Oh, it’s only Samuel.”  “Well, he seems a very frequent visitor these days,” Letty comments.  
     Samuel comes in with a bouquet.  Letty mentions they are about to have tea and invites him to join them.  He thanks Letty and hands the flowers to Charlotte, “I bought these for you on my way.”  “From an itinerate flower seller, I expect,” she speaks with less than praise and gratitude.  He chuckles, “Yes, I did.  Yes.”  She says she’ll go put them in water, declines his offer to help.
     Samuel walks toward Letty on the couch, “Well, I seem to have put my foot in it.  What was that all about?”  “I’m afraid she’s in one of ‘er moods today.”  “Oh, dear.  Perhaps I’d better go,” Samuel starts that way.
     “Oh, sit down, Samuel,” Letty indicates next to her.  “She’ll be back in a few minutes . . .  smiling very prettily, I assure you.”  “I don’t think she knows I exist,” he laments.  “Well, now, what’s the old saying? ‘The race does not always go to the swift.’”  
     “I hear cousin William’s crossing swords with Uncle James.  Perhaps he’ll come a cropper [take a fall, as in falling headlong from a horse].”  “Well, anyone who crosses swords with your Uncle James lives to regret it,” Letty pronounces factually.  

     Another day, more tea.  This time Letty is entertaining Sarah and Elizabeth.  She offers little sandwiches to Elizabeth to go with her tea.  “Charlotte’s at such a difficult age.  Such tantrums!” Letty worries.  Sarah comments, “Girls always are more difficult than boys,” as Letty offers her the sandwiches.  “But then, James always did want a son,” Sarah continues.  It might be her unguarded tongue that has convinced Charlotte that he can’t forgive her for being a girl.   “In the past, perhaps,” Letty poses.  “Ah, uh, well, yes,” Sarah stammers, “But then marrying so late in life . . .”  “I’m not that old, Sarah,” Letty parries, “I can still bear children.”
     “Well, as we all know, children are the blessing of the Almighty, Letty.  And it is not for us mortals, and that includes James, to question His purpose,” Sarah preaches.  Elizabeth is amused, “I think children can be a mixed blessing.  Daniel and myself are of the same opinion:  not to treat babies as the necessary fruits of matrimony.”  When Daniel Fogarty proposed to Emma Callon he certainly seemed to think so--he was ready for a houseful (season 2), but this is probably 20 years (more or less) later, and he does have a son.
     “Well, I declare, Elizabeth, sometimes I think you are totally without shame.  How can you be so indelicate?”  “Oh Sarah, really.  I noticed that you and Robert have not progressed beyond one,” Elizabeth says as she takes a dainty bite of sandwich.  Quite possibly cucumber (reference with a wink to “The Importance of Being Earnest”).  
     “Oh,” Sarah chuckles uncomfortably.  “Well, that also, was the will of the Almighty,” and she quickly takes a drink of tea.  

     Later at home Sarah pours her husband a drink and gives it to him as he’s reading the “Daily Telegraph” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Daily_Telegraph ) seated comfortably in his chair.  “Robert . . . I took tea with Letty this afternoon, and she told me, in the strictest confidence [yet Sarah is divulging it], that she and James have decided against having any children.”  “Good Lord, the subjects you women find to gossip about,” he replies.  “You understand what it means . . .”  “Well, of course I do.  It means that one day Charlotte will inherit everything,” he goes back to reading his newspaper.  “Mmm--hmm,” Sarah nods, even though he’s not looking.  Suddenly her meaning dawns on him, and he lets down his news to look at her.  “You mean, Samuel and Charlotte?  Oh no, they’re cousins.  No, it’d never do.”  “William is also her cousin,” Sarah states pointedly.  “William . . . Good God, you don’t mean to tell me that nonsense is still goin’ on.  James’ll never allow that.”  “When she’s 21, James will have no say in the matter.  And after all, cousins do marry.  Our own dear Queen is married . . .”  “That’s a royal alliance,” Robert objects.  
     “On the other ‘and, it would be a merging of empires,” Robert’s eyes show the inner workings going on behind them.  “Exactly,” the ever-ambitious Sarah also points out, “But if William should gain her hand, then Frazers would, in the fullness of time, become one of the most important shipping companies in the north.”  “Yes,” Robert pronounces pensively.  “But she and Samuel . . .” Robert thinks about that.  “It would be a very good match, Robert.  It really would,” she shakes her head side to side, as that doesn’t always mean “No”.  “Well in that event, I think ya ought to give the lad a little bit of encouragement.”

     At a family dinner Daniel has to be in London on business, so asked Robert to fill in his place.  Seated round the table are Sarah next to Robert at the head, James and Letty on a side, Elizabeth opposite Robert’s end, and  Samuel, Charlotte and William opposing James & Letty (the cousins all looking fairly near the same age, instead of the 2 boys being 10-11 years older than Charlotte, as original to the series).  
     Robert is in a fine mood, with big aspirations:  a partnership with Daniel in a cotton mill, a mail-order division to be run by Samuel from Australia, Robert’s goods to be shipped by James to Australia (he is expected to returns with wool), Samuel to be encouraged to court favor with James’ current heir Charlotte, the Liverpool department store “Robert Onedin & Son” . . . 
     Elizabeth gives the nod to the servant to serve the soup, which Sarah informs is her own special recipe, “I gave it to the cook myself.”
     James inquires about Robert’s business, but Letty schools him, “James, don’t pry into everyone else’s affairs.”  “I’m not prying, just curious,” he tells her.  “With Daniel absent, and I want to know. . .”  “James . . .” Letty urges him to let it go, in a word.   Robert tells the group, “I was only remarking to Daniel today how each of us have progressed from such small beginnin’s . . .” and he continues in that vein.
     But Robert’s big aspirations are literally choked, as he gets a little bone caught in his pipe instead of air . . . and dies before they can dislodge it or get a doctor on scene.

S6 E3—Heirs:  Robert has an heir, will James have a male heir? Letty wants to have his baby
     At the reading of Robert’s will (1883; by the original storyline Samuel would be 23, William about 22, Charlotte 11), wherein little bits were bequeathed to his siblings, Sarah having been provided for previously, the store and the rest of Robert’s interests are bequeathed to Samuel, as long as he personally manages the store, and the name continues as “Robert Onedin and Son”.  James and Letty look at each other:  they both know that Samuel never wanted to be chained to that store.
     “Cunning, crafty devil,” James says to Letty in a low voice.  She hushes him.  
       At the end of the reading James accuses the lawyer of having Robert add the codicil (just 3 months prior) because they knew Samuel “wasn’t too keen” on being tied to the store."  
     James takes charge, as someone must when all are in an emotional state.  He acts as the natural leader of the family he has always been since the death of their father.  He tells Samuel, “Get your mother a brandy, will you?  She’ll probably need it.”
     Letty comes, puts a hand on his arm to tell him something, but he tells her, “Not now.  Go to Elizabeth.  She’s taking it a bit hard.”  Then James sits next to his sister-in-law, “Well, Sarah, that’s that, then, eh? . . . finished.  Worst part’s over now,” he leans over to tell her.  Considering the years he mourned Anne, one wonders he could be so glib.  But he’s doing his best to help Sarah through it.  “It’ll do no good blathering over it, he’s gone.  Oh, come on, lass, he wouldn’t want to see ya like this.”  Knowing Robert, that is also doubtful; Robert would not want his passing quickly passed over.  “Got to pick up the pieces,” James offers her all the platitudes he would have rejected bitterly.  “Now you’ve no money worries, he’s left ya well-provided for.  You’re secure.”  That may seem unimportant, unless one is not left well-provided for.
     “I can’t understand, James, just one little bone.  It’s as though I killed him,” she sobs.  “It could happen to anybody.  It was an accident.”  “Lyin’ on the floor tryin’ to breathe,” she relives it.  “Stop it, Sarah,” he tells her firmly.  
     “Now.  You’re going to have to look to Samuel.  He’s the one that will need ya now,” he tells her, so true but hypocritical for him to say, having neglected his own daughter after her mother’s death.  But those words do help Sarah, give her purpose beyond her own tears.  “Samuel . . . yes . . . I never wanted him tied that way,” she tells James.  “You’ll not need to convince me,” James gives her absolution.  “But you’ll have to look to him.  There’ll be storm clouds there, eh?”  She expresses her grief, and he is there beside her.

     On another day of her grief Sarah expresses the same to Letty.  She’s afraid that Samuel blames her, yet she still defends her husband, “But Robert did it for his own good.  Robert always knew best.”
     They are interrupted when Charlotte announces one of Letty’s employees, Mrs. M.  She’s come to complain that they don’t have enough work to do, and Letty hasn’t been around to take care of business.  The woman suggests laying some off, some of the troublemakers, in particular.  Letty promises that she’ll find work, and that they’ll be kept on.  Letty’s business focus is not as much about making money for herself as in providing a living for others.

     Samuel takes care of his business, James is involved in investigating a corrupt insurance claim (that William was drawn into by Beaumont, Elizabeth and Daniel are thus also collaterally involved.)  At the same time, Letty has business of a personal matter she tries to discuss with James.

     James is eating heartily and hurriedly as usual when Letty attempts to bring up her issue, “James, I want to talk about it.”  “And I don’t,” he says forcefully, “Anyway, now’s not the time.  Letty, I’m in a hurry.”  “You’re always in a hurry.  I won’t be satisfied with [that answer].  Look, James, what I’m saying is, I’m not young.  And I want your child before I’m too old to enjoy it.  At least . . . at least let’s talk about it,” she pleads.
     “And I said, Not now, Letty, and I meant it,” but he sees her importuning what’s important to her, and tries a different tack.  “Ah, look, we’re happy as we are,” he speaks for both of them.  “In other words, my interests don’t concern you.  You want everything your way,” she says in a low voice.  “Letty . . .” he drawls and scowls.
     “I thought you said you were in a hurry.  Don’t let me keep you.  I’m sure you have more important business.”  So then he sits up still and straight, arms folded, “I’m meeting a Mr. Buxton,” and then he rushes to get up, “Tell him I’ll meet him on board the ship.”  Buxton is the insurance man that handled both James’ case in the previous episode, and the one who sought James to investigate this claim.
     As he is rushing to leave, Letty follows him, “James . . . James, I’m sorry if I upset you.”  Her apology gives him pause, and he comes over to her, “Letty . . . give me time, eh?  Just, well, not yet,” he puts his arms on her shoulders, his hands clasped behind her neck.  They embrace, and he smiles to feel her love, but Charlotte comes running in at the inopportune moment, announcing a man that insists on seeing James. 

     Everyone in the family “knows” that James wants a son, has always wanted a son to carry on after him.  Yes, he did.  But he was traumatized first by Anne’s miscarriage, and moreso by her death, in trying to give him that son.  He had so looked forward to years of happiness ahead with Anne as well as an heir.  Letty is not as old as Anne was when she died in childbirth, but she is not young.  James himself is not young to start all over as the father of a baby, a child that would only be grown when he is an old man.  He has found love again, and he doesn’t want to take a chance of losing it.  And, he is painfully aware that he has not really been a good father.  The idea of going through all that pain again is hard for him.

     Back to Letty’s other business, Samuel has brought a sample pillowcase as work Letty could provide for her employees.  Mrs.  M. looks it over and pronounces it shoddy and rips it open.  Samuel poses the business deal as an effort to help out (the kind of thing James would say to Elizabeth), Letty accuses him of looking for sweatshop prices (compare his reaction to his mother’s sweatshop, S5 E7).  Letty tells him, “Now my women do good work.  Fine work . . . ‘Spoil the ship for a ha’penny o’ tar’?”  In other words, taking shortcuts doesn't reallypay.  Samuel and Letty negotiate like pros, though truth to tell, she’s better at it at this point.  He’s only begun as a businessman in his own right.  But Letty has already talked to Sir Fogarty (Samuel’s inherited partner in a cotton mill), and the cotton fabric is to be delivered the next day.  

S6 E4--Letty aboard the “Falcon” with James; Charlotte uses Samuel to pursue William; Sarah shares with Letty her visit to a spiritualist
     Aboard the “Falcon” (a 2-masted ketch) James is teaching Letty about navigating.  She looks through the telescope and says, “Oh, it’s no good James, I just can’t tell.  We could be approaching America for all I know.”  “It’s just that you’re seeing things from a different point of view,” James tells her.  “Sometimes that’s no bad thing,” she plainly means in life, maybe even in marriage.
     “I’ve enjoyed this trip,” she smiles at him.  “What, Liverpool to Swansea [Wales] and back?  Hardly gives you a taste of blue water [sailing on the ocean].  Still, it’s a start,” he says softly, happy with hope.  He looks back toward Capt. Baines.
     “What do you reckon, Baines?” James asks his favorite captain and seaman.  “I was right.  Compass is definitely off.  What was she carrying before?  Steel plates?” Baines answers and asks.  “Right.  Swansea to Belfast.  Regular run,” James confirms.  “That is why it’s definitely overcompensated,” Baines states.  “Plenty of fixed bearings around,” James says as the camera pans the landmarks the 2 experienced seamen would be so familiar with.  “Aye . . . could fix the compass here, or wait’ll we get back.  It’s up to you, sir.”
     James looks at his novice navigator, “What do you say, Letty?”  “I say the pair of you are talking Double Dutch.  I haven’t understood a word,” Letty gives her opinion.  “Aye, does sound a bit of jibberish, doesn’t it?  Come on,” he drags her over to the ship’s compass and uncovers it.  “Look now, the ship’s been carrying a lot of metal.  Now metal affects a compass,” he starts with the basics.  “You mean it doesn’t give a true reading,” she understands that. 
     “Right.  So inside there they put magnets to correct the error,” he explains.  “But now that you’ve no longer got a cargo of metal, the compass is all wrong again.  Is that what you mean?” she comprehends.  James nods with his whole body, “By heck, we’ll make a sailor of ‘er yet, Baines.”  Capt. Baines laughs, “There’s a sheltered cove a little way up the coast.  I mean we could anchor there for the night.”
    “Aye, why not?” James agrees, and Letty thinks it a good idea as well.  “That means for once I can have supper without chasing my plate all over the table,” she smiles at Baines.  “And, as it’s your last night aboard, ma’am, I’ll tell the cook to come up with something special,” Baines enjoys the chance to give her a treat.  “Thank you, Capt. Baines,” she appreciates his thoughtfulness.
     Capt. Baines goes to do his own bidding, Letty goes forward, James follows her.  “What do you think of the ‘Falcon’?” he asks.  “It’s a pretty name for a pretty ship,” is what she thinks.  “Pretty?” James looks around, “She’s a workhorse.”  “Well, can’t a workhorse be pretty?”  “Aye,” he admits to her assessment.  He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to his side, “You’re in a funny mood.”  “Well, perhaps it’s the sea air,” she replies a bit mysteriously, and they exchange smiles.  
     At supper, Capt. Baines offers Letty another serving of the “something special” the cook came up with, but she declines, as she is full.  He says he’ll compliment the cook on her behalf.  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I’ll take a turn on the deck, get everything snugged down for the night,” and Capt. Baines gets up to do so.  James says he might join him later, as he lights up his cigar.
     “You know, in a way, I’m quite looking forward to going home tomorrow,” Letty admits.  “Aye.  Landfalls and departures; leaving home, coming home; beginnings and endings—all chapters in a sailor’s life,” James waxes a bit poetic.  “Well, go on,” Letty is listening, “It’s not often I hear you talk about the sea.”  “Well, not much to say.  Not of words,” then he passes to a different subject.
       “Wonder how Sarah is faring,” James shows he cares.  Letty wishes there could be some way of getting her out of the house.  “Thank goodness she’s got Samuel.  Must be a comfort for a woman to have a son like that,” Letty appreciates for Sarah’s sake, and perhaps thinking of her own hoped-for sake.  “He’s a good lad.  Got ‘is head screwed on.  He’ll carry on Robert’s name,” James is glad for both Sarah and Robert.  
     “You miss him, don’t you?” Letty knows.  “Robert?  Pompous old fool,” James says affectionately, “Aye, I do.”  But that’s all the sentiment James is ready for, and he says, “Stuffy in here.  Think I’ll go on deck, finish me cigar.”  In the fresh sea air.  
     When James comes back, Letty is settling herself in bed.  She hears James bid Baines good night, and pinches her cheeks, as though he could see them in the dark.  “Thought you’d be asleep,” James says as he comes in and closes the door to their cabin.  “Not a bit tired.  Beautiful night,” she says.  “Aye,” he agrees as he takes off his vest, “Full moon tonight.”  That only matters for the sake of the story, as they are not gazing at it.  He sits on the double bunk to take off his boots, and noting her summer nightgown fallen off her shoulder, says, “You want to see you don’t catch cold in that thing.”  “I won’t.  Not if you . . . put your arms around me.”
     James turns to his wife, kisses her, and they embrace.  “Hmm,” he noises contentedly.  “What exactly does ‘hmm’ mean,” she asks with a smile.  “I said you was in a funny mood tonight.  I was right,” he smiles back.  “Turn the lamp out,” she bids him, and lays back.  We don’t have to see any more.

     Sarah does begin to get out of the house, visits the shop, and she and Samuel agree that he could hire a manager to take care of the day-to-day running (though they disagree on who would be best suited; she acquiesces, but he’ll be sorry) while he concentrates on the catalogue sales.  She tells him she is getting back to her committee work; she starts seeing a spiritualist to have some contact with Robert.  She tells Letty about it over tea, and Letty advises her about the cleverness of such men, but Sarah is hooked and hoodwinked.

     As for Charlotte:
     “Good morning, Charlotte,” Letty greets her as she comes down to breakfast in her nightgown.  Letty is dressed and starting her repast.  “How was Henry Irving [famous Victorian performer]?” she inquires.  “Oh, marvelous!” Charlotte is enthusiastic as she sits herself down, “Father not down yet?”  “He’s been gone for 3 hours,” Letty lets her know.  
     “Oh, where to this time?” Charlotte asks.  “I don’t know.  He said he’d be back in a few days.  He’s up to something, but for the life of me I can’t think what,” Letty worries a bit.  “He didn’t get in until 1 o’clock this morning, did he?” Charlotte mentions.  
     “How do you know that?” Letty asks.  “I heard him.  I was awake.  “Surprising, then, that you’re as bright as a button [perhaps a shiny captain’s button].  Could it be something to do with Samuel taking you to the theater last night?”  “Samuel?  Good heavens, no,” Charlotte laughs off such a notion.
     “Letty, there’s something I must tell you about last night.  When we got to the theater, William was there.  He’d taken a box, and he insisted we share it with him.”  “That must have pleased Samuel,” Letty comments sardonically.  “Oh, Samuel can be so ungrateful . . . and when William ordered Champagne in the interval, he never so much as thanked him.”
     “Now wait a minute.  Who brought you home?” Letty is concerned.  “William,” Charlotte admits, “in a hansom [cab].”  “Then I think it just as well that your father did come home late,” Letty scolds.  
     Letty is still Charlotte’s confidante, but she did not let Letty in on all the details, such as that after Samuel had asked permission  of her father to take her to the theater--and he had gladly given it--Charlotte had come up with the idea of asking William to come with them (not in front of her father, of course).  Samuel reluctantly agreed, as he is wont to bend to anything she wants.  She had Samuel do the asking, but William said he had too much work to do.  
     Behind the scenes, sharing a carriage with Dunwoody, William’s mind was changed when Dunwoody mentioned Samuel and Charlotte in such a way as to enliven a jealousy William had not thought to even consider when Charlotte asked if he didn’t mind that Samuel would be taking her on his own (she hoped he would be jealous).

    In the meantime, James learned that the man who chartered the “Falcon” is a thief and a con, and that’s where he was off to that morning.  He sailed with Capt. Baines, and used the trick of the adjusted compass of the “Falcon” to fool the thief/swindler and land him where he’d be caught.

S6 E5—Letty is pregnant, tries to tell James; Charlotte makes a serious mistake & lies about it
     Elizabeth has come to visit Letty, and Letty has let on something important.  Elizabeth congratulates her with enthusiasm, “Letty, this is wonderful news!  When did you hear?”  Letty is all smiles, “Yesterday.  I went to see Dr. Porton, and he confirmed it.”
     “Letty, I’m so pleased for you!  Elizabeth gets up to give Letty a kind kiss.  “Now come on and sit down.”  As Letty sits on the couch with her, she reminds her, “Well, as you know, for a long time I thought I might be too old.”  “Didn’t I tell you that was nonsense and not to worry? [S6 E1]  Oh, James must be overjoyed.  What did he say?”
     “Uh . . .” Letty’s face has lost it’s brightness.  She gets up suddenly, checks outside the closed door, then with wringing hands, says, “Nothing.”  “Oh, isn’t that typical of James!” Elizabeth decries.  Letty comes to sit down again, “Elizabeth, I haven’t told him yet.  You’re the first one to know.”  “Haven’t told him?  Why-ever not?” Elizabeth doesn’t understand.  “Oh, I don’t know, he’s at . . . well . . . he’s at an awkward age for a man to have parenthood sprung upon him,” Letty stammers.
     “James has always been at an awkward age,” Elizabeth says something James might have said about her some years ago, “but you’ll have to tell him some time.”  “Well, I’ll pick the right moment.  When he’s in a good mood,” Letty laughs.  “Or perhaps when he’s feeling low,” Letty doesn’t laugh, “Aye, that might be better, to cheer ‘im up.  Or, maybe it . . . would make him . . . feel worse . . . Elizabeth . . .” Letty is in more than 2 minds.  “If I were you, I’d tell him the moment he comes home, and have done with it,” Elizabeth wisely advises.

     James comes to see his sister Elizabeth.  “Ah, there you are!” he says on entering her drawing room. “Been runnin’ round after ya all morning.  Why can’t ya stay in one place for more than half an hour,” he says as he closes the door and strides across the room to her, so that when she turns round she bumps into him.  
     “Oh, look, you’ll have to be quick.  I promised I’d have lunch with Sarah,” she walks past him to get her hat from the table.  “Oh, uh, how is Sarah?” he asks.  She hands him her handheld mirror to hold while she pins her hat in place.  “Perhaps if you called on her you’d have no need to ask,” she takes him to task.  “Well I haven’t got the time,” he pleads his innocence.  “Then make time, James, she is family.”  “I haven’t come here for a lecture, you know,” he lectures.  
     “I saw Letty this morning,” Elizabeth brings up another topic she intends to chastise him about.  He stands up and quietly says, “Oh.”  “Yes, it seems she sees little of you either,” Elizabeth says as she puts on her wrap.  “Well I’m busy!  Here,” he runs over to her, “Hasn’t, uh, been complaining, has she?”  “No, Letty’s not the type.  But she is your wife, James, not just one of your hands.  You really should pay her more attention.”   “Yes, yes, yes,” he keeps nodding and agreeing. “Now would you like to listen to me,” he swiftly follows.  
     He brings up the Murchisson Line, with the schooner he wants.  “I’ll take ‘er off your hands.  She’s [the schooner] falling to pieces anyway.”  “Is she now?”  “Aye, so if you want to sell ‘er to me, I’d withdraw from the bidding.  Save you a bit of money,” he leans close to say conspiratorially.  “I should think we’ll all be saving some money, James,” she says as she heads for the door, but turns to say, “We’ve made no offer for the Murchisson Line.”  She leaves him looking perplexed.

     Capt. Baines comes to see Letty.  “Why Mrs. Onedin, yer lookin’ quite . . . quite blooming,” he says, cap in hand.  “Oh, how kind of you to say so,” she looks up to him from the couch.  “Yes,” he mutters.  “What can I do for you, Capt. Baines?” she asks.  He gets to the point.  “It’s about this here piano I’ve bought, ma’am.”  “Oh, I didn’t know you were musical,” she offers cheerfully.  
     “Well, I’m not.  The truth is, I might well have been bamboozled.  But I’ll sell that damn piano if it takes me forever,” he vows.  “Well, I’m afraid we’ve already got one,” she is apologetic.  “Eh?  Oh oh, no.  I’m taking it to Norway tomorrow.  Very musical, the Norwegians,” he repeats the story he was sold.  “Are they?” she questions curiously.  “Well, so I’m told . . . I thought if I’m to show it off to advantage, I should maybe learn a tune.  And seein’ as you play, I was hopin’ you’d teach me one.”  “Oh,” she understands.  “Well, I don’t know how much I can teach you in one afternoon,” she sets aside the large frame of stitchery she’s been working on.  
     “Well, it’d only be one finger, ma’am, ya see I bought a notebook here, and I thought if I gave the keys a number, and copied ‘em down, I could practice on the voyage . . .”  As Letty gets up from the couch, she stops and puts one hand to her head, the other fingertips steadying herself on the back of a stuffed leather chair.  This makes Capt. Baines stop mid-sentence, concerned for her.  
     “What is it?” he asks as he puts a hand round her back onto her shoulder.  “I must’ve stood up too quickly,” she tells him.  “Oh, yeah?” he is solicitous.  “. . . it’s nothing, really,” she downplays it.  
     “Maybe I should get you a little drink, get the blood moving . . .” he offers.  “Oh no, no please, Capt. Baines,” she waves the air a bit to signal she has no need.  She sits at the piano, recovered.  “Well, then,” she reaches for some sheet music atop her upright, “What tune did you have in mind?”  
     Capt. Baines leans down toward her, “Well, now, I was thinking maybe a . . . cradle song?”  She looks at him, “How did you know?”  He laughs, “I didn’t, but I do now.”  “Capt. Baines, it must be kept a secret,” she connives with him.  “Oh, you have my word on that, ma’am,” he promises, “but Mr. Onedin must be very pleased.”  She looks away and stammers, “He . . . he . . . doesn’t . . . know yet.  And you mustn’t tell him.”  “Oh, no no. Course not.  I mean it wouldn’t sound right comin’ from me.  But anyway, I’m pleased,” he gives her his understated smile.  “Thank you.  Still, I think we’d better forget the cradle song,” she says as she looks through some other choices, “Even James might put 2 and 2 together.”

     James happens upon (on purpose?) the auction of things from Murchisson’s Warehouse on the quay, some of it having been warehoused for years. The “piece de resistance, a genuine handwoven silk carpet, made in Persia, and guaranteed never to wear out,” the auctioneer describes it.  James looks at it thoughtfully.  The price started at 20 guineas . . . the auctioneer notices James looking at it, “Mr. Onedin?”  James nods at 21 guineas.  James scowls as the price keeps going up, but he keeps bidding with movements of his head, apparently getting it for 28.  He brings it home to Letty.  
     “Well, what d’ya think of it, eh?” he asks as he puts it down by the leather couch in the drawing room.  “Oh, it’s lovely,” she is prepared to be amenable.  “You don’t sound very pleased [or not as pleased as would please him].  It cost money did this, ya know.”  “It’s been in somebody else’s house,” she’s a little hesitant.  “What’s that got to do with it?  Here, for heaven’s sake, it’s silk, feel that, go on,” he brings her a corner to feel.  “That’s quality, is that, you know,” he points out and she dutifully feels the quality.  “Should be for the money I paid for it,” he just “mentions” again.  
     “Oh, will you stop forcin’ the price of everything down me throat?”  “Now what ‘ave I said?” “Did ya . . . buy me a present or not?”  “Aye . . . Look, I’ll go out, come back in again, eh?  See if I can’t get on the right footin’ with ya.”  He goes out the door, comes back in “La la-ing”, closes the door, “Hello, Letty.  How are you? Bought you a carpet, cost a fortune, but I won’t mention it, and it’s for you.”  He ends up on his knees at her knees, a corner of the carpet in hand.  She starts to tell him something, “James . . .” but he goes right on, “I bought it for you . . . as a present.  ‘Cause I love ya, ya stupid woman,” he says gently, lovingly.  
     She tries again, “James . . .”  “Well, aren’t ya goin’ to thank me?”  “Thank you James,” she kisses him, he kisses back, and things might go on, but she laughingly gently stops his forward motion, thanks him, “It’s a lovely present,” and tries yet again.  “Look, come and sit down,” she indicates next to her on the couch he’s kneeling against.  
     James sits down, exhaling some of his energetic enthusiasm.  “I’ve got something I want to tell ya.”  “Well?” he’s fiddling with the carpet.  “Are ya in a good mood?”  “Aye.  Talkin’ o’ moods, you’ve been in a funny mood all week.”  “Well, happen there’s a reason for that . . .” He interrupts with, “You know Letty, I don’t think I do like the carpet ‘ere . . .”  He starts to get up, and she protests, “Well, I do!  Can’t ya sit still for 5 minutes?  James . . .”  (Note that Anne had to just blurt such news out in the midst of James’ preoccupation.)
     The bell rings, and James asks, “Who the heck is that?”  “It’s probably Samuel.  He wanted your advice about something, and I asked him to call round,” she laments her lost opportunity to tell her husband of her, and soon his, expectation.  “Good.  Tell ‘im I can’t stay long though, I’m goin’ out,” he says as he pushes the couch over, and Letty with a “tch”, goes to answer the door.

     Samuel and James negotiate a business deal, and James has to admit that he’s coming right along as a businessman.  As they leave, sharing a cab, James calls back to Letty that he won’t be long, but she shouldn’t wait up for him.  Then Charlotte comes in, having waited for them to leave, so that Samuel won’t keep her in conversation when she is anxious to go out, and her father might be in one of his moods, and prevent her from going out.  
     “Well, if you’re not back at quarter past 10, like as not you’ll find me in one of my moods,” Letty tells her as she fastens a pearl necklace round the girl’s neck.  Charlotte has grown considerably taller than Letty. 

      Letty waits up for Charlotte.  The clock chimes and Charlotte comes rushing in like Cinderella, and like Cinderella, she has lost something in her hurry.
     “Oh, there, Letty.  I wasn’t late, was I?” Charlotte comes in panting, “Had to run the last bit, though.”  She takes off her gloves, and Letty asks, in stark contrast to the girl’s liveliness, “Did you enjoy the concert?”  “Yes, very much.”
     “Pity you weren’t home earlier.  You had a visitor . . . Mrs. Hardcastle.  Lucy’s in bed with tonsilitis.  She wants to know if you’ll go around and see her tomorrow.”  Charlotte has become nearly motionless, “I see.”  She’s been caught in a lie.  She had told Lettie she was going out with Lucy Hardcastle.
     “Right, young lady,” Letty begins.  “Where exactly have you been tonight?”  Charlotte tosses her gloves, and tosses off her answer, “I told you, I went to the concert . . . only I went with William.”  “Charlotte, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying, and you’re lying right now.”  Charlotte has no answer, so Letty says, “Very well, your father will be home in a few minutes.  Either you tell me or you tell him . . .”
     “Charlotte hastens to answer, “Very well.  If you must know, I went to this apartment with William he’s thinking of buying.”  She stands there defiant.  “At this time of night?” Letty is alarmed, “The two of you on your own?”  “He wanted my advice about furniture, that’s all,” but Charlotte turns away.  “Why d’ya have to spoil everything?”  It would appear that Letty has principally spoiled Charlotte.
     Letty gets up, and indignantly grabs Charlotte by the arm and swings her around.  “Charlotte, look at me!  Now did anything happen?  Now don’t play the innocent, you know full well what I mean.”  “Yes, Letty, it did.  He kissed me.  Twice,” Charlotte smiles.  “Is that all,” Letty studies her face.  Charlotte says, “Yes,” but Letty notices the something that's missing.  The something lost.  
     “Where are your pearls?” she asks steadily.  Charlotte’s hand flies to her neckline where they would hang.  “I expect they dropped off,” she answers not as steadily, “Running to be home on time.”  “Go to your room,” Letty tells her in a low voice.  
     “I was going anyway,” Charlotte doesn’t want to go just because she was told, she wants it to be because she chooses to go.  She opens the door, then stops to ask, “Will you tell Father?”  “I don’t know,” Letty says slowly.  It’s a pity she doesn’t know.  It’s a pity she could have any doubt.  It’s a pity she could even consider “protecting” Charlotte from the consequences of her foolishness, her poor choices when they are this serious.  Being alone with a man in his apartment, especially at that hour, especially in those times, was/is serious.  

     When James returns from Norway, he checks with Daniel Fogarty, for whom he had strategized to obtain the Murchisson Line with its valuable monopoly, in return for which James would get the “Jenny Peak” schooner.  His scheme worked.  When he greets Letty on the dock, he notices, “Here, ya look peaked (ironic choice of words).  Everything all right?”  “Yes, of course,” it’s not the right time and place for her to explain, “bit of fresh air do me good [in walking along the pier].” 
     “What do ya think of ‘er then, my new ship,” he asks Letty of the “Jenny Peak”. ‘”Lovely.”  “I’m having her reregistered the ‘Letty Gaunt’.  What do ya think of that?”  Letty happily puts her arm in his as they walk along the quay, and he asks with a laugh, “Hey, what’s for dinner?  I could put away a couple of pork chops.”  “Ah, well then, pork chops it shall have to be.”  “You thought any more about that carpet?”  “Yes, I told you, I like it.  It’s nice.”  “Well so you should, seeing what it cost.  You know that . . .” the ending theme intervenes there.

S6 E6—Letty is pregnant, Charlotte is also feeling ill 
     James sits in his parlor chair reading “The Liverpool Echo” (founded in 1879), Letty is doing some delicate sewing as she sits on the couch.  “I see there’s still no peace at Harland & Wolf [famous Irish shipbuilders, founded 1861, later they launched the Titanic, but many other great designs as well],” James comments.  “Well, can you blame them?  Cutting wages by 10% . . . nothing short of scandalous.”  
     James suddenly notices what Letty is working on, “What are you up to?”  “It’s a baby’s bonnet,” she answers.  “Oh?”  Seems like a good time to tell her husband she’s pregnant, but the longer it goes on, seemingly the less courage she has to come out with it.  “It’s for one of my women.  She’s due next month,” she says, and it’s possibly true, but one might suspect she could be prevaricating.
     “I suppose you’ll be paying her wages while she’s laid up,” James doesn’t have to suppose. “Confined,” Letty reminds him of the preferred term.  She changes the subject.  “Why you going to Africa again so soon?”  “Oh, a lot of trade opening up there.  Want to get me foot in the door with some of those trading posts.”
     “Oh, I’m quite tired all of the sudden,” Letty sighs heavily, “Would you mind if I went to bed?”  “You sick or summat?” he asks.  She hastens to deny it, “Just tired.”  “I noticed ya didn’t eat your supper.  Come to think of it, neither did Charlotte,” James is not impervious to all in the family.  “Well, she wasn’t feeling well this morning.  I think she’s probably caught something,” Letty excuses.
     “Maybe you have too,” James posits.  But again, Letty hastens to say, “No.  No, I just have no appetite.”  “What you need is a change of air,” James gets up and tosses his newspaper on the chair he just left.  “Naught like sea air for giving you an appetite, you know.”  “What are you suggesting?” Letty wonders.  “That you come with me,” he suggests without turning to look at her as he lights his cigar.
     “To Africa?” she asks.  “Aye.”  “James . . .”  “Well why not?” he comes over to sit next to her.  “Well, I don’t know,” she stalls.  “Look, I want ya to come,” he puts his arm around her.  She should come out with it right now, we armchair experts are thinking. 

     Elizabeth comes to visit Letty for lunch, and speaks to her of the current issue dividing her and Daniel.  “So, as long as he supports that scheme, the devil can have him.  Now, will you talk to James?”  “Well, James has tried once already,” Letty sighs.  “Well not hard enough.  He must talk to him again.  Daniel must be stopped.”
     Letty is clearly not feeling well.  She gets up from the table, holding her abomen, saying, “He may not be able to do anything before he sails.”  “When is that?”  “The end of the week,” Letty says as she sits in the chair James had occupied the previous night.  “Where for?” Elizabeth asks, still at table.  “West Africa,” Letty replies.  “Oh, he’ll be gone for months,” Elizabeth realizes.  Letty sighs, “He’s asked me to go with him.”
     Elizabeth brings her tea cup over, “By the time he gets back it’ll . . . You, go with him?” Letty’s words finally sink in, “in your condition? . . . Oh, Letty, you still haven’t told him,” Elizabeth speaks with dismay as she sits on the couch.  “I mean, look at you.  You’re laced in so tight I don’t know how you can breathe.”  “I don’t know how to tell him,” Letty hopes she’ll understand.  “Do you want to kill the child?” Elizabeth warns.  “Oh, good God, no,” Letty is clear.  “Well then you have no choice.”

     A reverend comes walking down the quay and boards the “Esther Lohse” as Capt. Baines is overseeing the loading.  “Capt. Baines . . .[“Aye” Baines acknowledges.] . . . Reverend Fierce [note the choice of name to match the man] Webster, sir.  You’re bound for Lagos [SW Nigeria], I believe. ["Yeah," Baines says.] Do you carry passengers, Captain.”  “Sometimes,” Capt. Baines answers.  “You see, Captain, there’s a mission station on the Apobe [Yobe?] River that I must reach before the summer rains. Now, my daughter and I were to have sailed last week . . . but unfortunately our cargo didn’t arrive in time . . . Bibles, 10 crates.  What’s your answer, sir, to the Lord’s call?  Will you carry us?”
     “Well, it’s not really up to me, sir.  It’s up to the owner,” Baines tells him.  “Who might that be?”  “It’s a Mr. Onedin.  You’ll find ‘im at the office or the house,” Baines informs him.  “James Onedin?”  “Aye” “James Onedin.  Thank you Captain.”  The Reverend goes his way, muttering contentedly, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.  Surely He does.”  Presumably it's not hars to find out where James Onedin works and lives, whether by cab or walking

     James enters his parlor with “Letty . . .” on his tongue.  He sees 2 strangers in the room, and asks, “What’s . . . oh . . .”  “We have visitors, James,” Letty explains, “This is Reverend Webster.”  Rev. Webster goes right over to James and shakes his hand.  “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Hannah.”  Hannah is an attractive young woman sitting primly across the room.  “Miss Webster,” James acknowledges with a puzzled look.
     “The Reverend is seeking a passage to Africa, James,” Letty lets him know.  The Reverend further expands, “When I heard your name, sir, I could scarcely believe my good fortune.  Surely God’s hand is at work here, I thought . . . You probably had no notion of our existence, even.  But would you believe me when I tell you that we are related?”
     “Oh, Webster,” James recognizes Anne’s maiden name.  “Yes, through Anne,” the reverend clarifies.  “She and I were cousins, Mr. Onedin,” Hannah speaks up.  James walks toward her, “Yes, there is a certain resemblance.  I . . . I remember her speaking of you.”
     Letty rises to the occasion, “Well, isn’t this a happy meeting, James?”  “Yes,” the Reverend chuckles.  “One might say Divinely inspired.  You know, when our cargo was delayed . . . we put our trust in the Good Lord’s deliverance, but never thought to find such joy as this,” the Reverend finds it all very providential.
     “Yes, it does seem to be more than just coincidence,” Letty agrees, perhaps not as stoutly stated as the Reverend.  “Anne’s cousin, eh?” James looks at the pretty young woman with a smile.  “May I say, ma’am, that I trust our presence causes you no discomfort.  I mean, Anne was called to the Lord so long ago, and man . . . surely needs a helpmate,” the Reverend addresses Letty, a bit uncomfortably.  
     Hannah stands, “Mr. Onedin, will you help us?  Carry us to Africa?”  “You, as well?” James asks with surprise.  “Of course,” Hannah takes it as a matter of course.  “I suppose . . . uh . . . we do have cabins,” then he smiles to say, “I don’t see why not.”  Letty looks a bit uncomfortable now.

     Later we see James entering his parlor, he walks right over to the table humming, carrying papers, sits and opens his books.  Letty moves from near the table to the chair by the couch and comments, “What a strange couple.”  “Hmm, seems simple enough to me,” James responds while he’s busy.
     “She’s a beautiful woman,” Letty notes.  “Eh?”  “Anne’s cousin,” Letty says.  “Oh, did you think so?” James either doesn’t want to agree, or is distracted.  “Didn’t you?” Letty inquires.  “Oh, she seemed handsome enough, I suppose, in her way.  Here, where’s Charlotte?  Does she live here anymore or not?” James asks suddenly.
     “In her room.  She’s still feeling poorly,” Letty tells him, as she is herself not feeling all that well, so tightly corseted.  “Well why not send for the doctor?” James demands.  “She’s says it’s not serious,” Letty isn’t concerned.  “Women!” James exclaims in a low voice.  
     Letty walks over to her husband, puts her hands on his shoulders as he works.  “James, about this trip.  I think I won’t come with you.”  “Oh?”  “Well, would you mind?”  “Up to you . . .”  “I know you wanted me to come . . .”  “Seemed a good idea . . .”  
     She slowly walks away, troubled.  “Me and Miss Webster aboard . . . be worse than being at home [with 2 women].”  “Come, Letty, what sort of nonsense is that?” James dismisses the thought.  “Just . . . well you don’t want to be surrounded by women . . .”  “Hardly surrounded . . .” he turns to his wife seated on the couch, “Is she the reason you’re not comin’?”  “No,” Letty hastens to say.  “It’s not that I don’t want to come, I simply cannot.”  
     “Well why?” he wants to know, and when she seems without words, he turns back to his work, “All right, don’t tell me.”  “I’m buying a shredding machine,” she finds an excuse.  He looks back at her again, and she continues, “to turn ticking into flock,” he turns even more toward her, implying there should be more to the story.  “Well, the machine will arrive while you’re gone, and I feel . . . well, I ought to be here.”  He gives in to her reason without looking convinced, “Well it’s your decision.”  He turns back to his work.

     While James sails to West Africa, Elizabeth comes again to Letty, “You mean he sailed, and you still haven’t told him?”  Letty is miserable, more emotionally than physically, “Oh Elizabeth, how could I?  With that woman aboard it would almost have been . . . I don’t know, as if I didn’t trust him.  To have told him about the child now . . . oh, you know, sometimes I think he must be blind.  Even Capt. Baines guessed the truth, and I didn’t say a word.  Oh, but not James,” Letty’s voice quavers.  She leans over into Elizabeth’s shoulder, and Elizabeth hugs her friend and sister-in-law.  “Oh, Elizabeth, I should have told him,” Letty sobs.

     On the voyage, Capt. Baines notices James showing Miss Webster around the ship, being very attentive to her.  She's a pretty young woman, but her connection to Anne gives her a connection to James.
     For once Baines doesn’t share a drink when James invites him to join him.  “Pity Mrs. Onedin couldn’t have come with us this time, sir.”  “Aye, some business commitment,” James doesn’t elaborate.  “Oh, is that what it was,” Capt. Baines, doesn’t seem satisfied with that explanation.  James looks over at him to affirm, “Aye.”  “I expect you’ll miss ‘er, sir.”  “Well, no more than usual,” James’s answer, again, doesn’t seem to satisfy Baines.
     Around the Captain’s table at supper sit James & Baines, and the 2 Websters.  Miss Webster tells of their life, many years in India and China.  She always accompanies her father, since her mother died.  James keeps pressing her about whether she enjoys the life.  She at last admits that one’s duty isn’t always pleasurable, and her father thinks she ought to find no greater joy than in the service of the Lord, no matter how hard the service.  He excuses himself, pointedly telling his daughter that he'll pray for her, and reminding Hannah not to be long.  James gently tells her that anything she wants, to make the journey more comfortable, she has only to ask.
     “Did you ever know the first Mrs. Onedin, ma’am?” Baines asks her.  James doesn’t look happy at the question.  “Yes, the last time I saw her I was 12 years old,” Hannah replies.  “Fine lady.  We was all very grieved when she passed on.”  James eyes his captain as if to warn him off the subject, his response is short, “Aye, well . . .”  But Baines presses on, “Never thought to see her like again.  Of course that was before the present Mrs. Onedin come along.  You met her, I expect,” Baines is quick to add.  He chuckles, “Another fine lady.  I’m sure you’ll agree that Mr. Onedin’s a very lucky man.”  James sets his glass down a bit more forcefully than necessary, gives Capt. Baines a hard look from under those brows that intimidate most, and says almost under his breath, “Thank you, Baines.”  He's sensitive about Baines' connection to his wives, a mutual defense alliance.

     The portrayal of the Reverend and his daughter is less than complimentary, as the writers are wont to show the religious/religionists.  This time they are not cons (S1 E 12), corrupt (S2 E13), superstitious (S2 E6) mentally disturbed (S1 E11), pompous (S3 E11), nor disillusioned (S4 E9), but well-meaning, naïve, over-moralizing, and the Reverend walks the deck reading his Bible aloud (compare S1 E12).  James is disgusted when Hannah tries to stop him from defending the ship from pirates, (“You can’t do that [shoot them], they’re all God’s creatures!”).  “My Anne could have taught you a thing or two,” James tells her as he works on the wounded of his crew.  One wonders how the Reverend and his daughter could be so naïve if they had so much experience in the world.

S6 E7—James explodes over Letty’s pregnancy; what will be his reaction to Charlotte’s?
     Disembarking on their return from West Africa, Capt. Baines says to James, “I’ll see you in 3 days, then, sir.”  James invites him to the house for something to eat.  Capt. Baines says, “No thanks . . . I got things to do.”  James takes his arm, “Nothing that can’t wait, come on.”  “23 Cable St, Driver,” James tells the coachman. 
     James comes in the house calling loudly for Letty, as usual on his return, “Letty . . . Letty . . . We’re home.  Oh, come in, Baines, come in.  Help yourself to a drink.  Letty!” James calls as he opens and reads a letter.  “Aww, damn!  That fool Baldwin’s gone and broken a leg.  Supposed to sail for Belfast tomorrow morning.”  “I’ll go, and take the ‘Esther Lohse’, sir,” Baines is quick to volunteer.  “I thought you wanted a couple o’ days ashore,” James mentions.  “Oh me?  No sir.  Short trip like that is just what I could do with,” Baines makes excuse.  “Oh, it’s up to you, whatever you say,” James tells Baines, then calls again, “Letty!”  Before he can yell for her again, he is met at the parlor door by Mrs. Gibson, “Mr. Onedin, I know you’ve just come back from Africa, but there is no need to go shouting round the house like a hottentot!”  To modern minds such a term is offensive.  But this series is set in a time and place in history when such words were used.  Ignoring that does a disservice to our having learnt better. 
     “Right.  Is yer mistress at home,” James asks with a much less vociferous volume.  “She’s lying down,” the housekeeper says.  “What, half past 11 in the mo- . . .?!  She’s not ill, is she?” James asks quickly.  “No, she’s . . . ‘avin’ a rest,” his servant says.  “James, I’m just coming down,” Letty calls from above.  
     “Well, I’ll be off, then, sir,” Capt. Baines hurries to escape.  “Here, here, here,” James grabs his arm, “why don’t ya stay . . . say hello to Letty, have a drink.”  “Oh, no sir, I’ve gotta turn that ship round fast.  I’ll see ya,” Capt. Baines makes a rapid retreat.
     “Will you be in for dinner?” Mrs. Gibson asks.  “Course I’ll be in to dinner,” James answers rudely.  “I was only askin’,” she says, “Seems to me you ought to go out and come back in again.”  She leaves, James sighs and pours himself a drink.  He happens to be facing the other way when Letty greets him, “Hello, James.”  He strides over to her light-heartedly, “I was beginning to wonder where you . . .” but he breaks off suddenly.  There before him stands his wife in a maternity dress.
     He’s speechless, and she suggests, “I think you’d better sit down, James.”  “You’re . . .” “Yes,” she confirms.  “How long?” he’s still in shock.  “Six months.”  “Six months? . . .” he nods, walks away, and then the explosion.  “Six months, and you chose not to tell me!” he yells at her.  “You’ve been away for just over 2 months, James,” she tries to soften the news.  
     “But you must have known before I left!”  “Well, of course I did,” Letty looks down.  “Well, why in damnation didn’t you tell me?!”  “Because I knew you’d behave in the same way as you’re behaving now, that’s why!”  “Well how do you expect me to behave?  I thought I made it perfectly clear that I didn’t want any more children!”  Letty sits to say calmly, “I made it quite clear that I did.”   James leans down to say, “Well you made damn sure that you got your way!”  “I did not get with child on my own, James!” she is now yelling as well.
     He turns, takes a step or two away, sits, and says more calmly, “You’ve known all this time . . .”  “Now shall I tell you the reason why I’ve kept it from you?  I had hoped that you’d grow to want a child.  Our child.  One that would be a symbol of our love,” she had said all this looking kindly, straight at him, but once again she looks down.
     He gets up again, “I’m not cut out to be a father.  I thought I’d made that perfectly plain!”  “Why, because you don’t love Charlotte?” But Letty immediately regrets the accusation, “I’m sorry, I . . . I shouldn’t have said that.”  She walks over to the back he’s turned on her.  “I know you’ve tried . . . James!  It could be different!” she holds his arms.  “How many more times . . . I don’t want ano . . .!” he turns round to her and in a quiet voice, says, “Letty, I’d made plans for us . . . show you the world, just the 2 of us . . .”
     She takes his hands, “No, no, no . . . it is a different world, that’s all.  But it’s still one that we can both share!”  A knock on the door signals the entry of Mr. Gibson, “Dinner in half an hour, if that’s all right.”  “Not for me,” James growls, “I don’t want food.”  He kicks his case as he goes out and slams the door.  Letty is left to exclaim, “Ohh!” in exasperation.

     James walks the cold, windy quay in his warm coat, strikes a match to light his cigar, and glancing over, sees a woman and her blanket-wrapped but bare-headed baby hardly dressed for the cold, sitting near a receptacle for glowing coals.  A seaman sits by as well.  We don’t know if the 2 have any relation to each other.  James gives the woman a coin and walks on.  
     He descends the steps into his ship’s saloon, tosses his cigar down on the table with more force than necessary, roughly grabs a chair, takes off his coat and plops it on a side table before pouring himself a drink.  
     “Who is it out there,” Capt. Baines calls from another room, then walks in.  “Oh, it’s you, sir.”  James points the bottle at him, “You knew,” he grouches, “That’s why you scuttled away, isn’t it?”  He slowly walks toward Baines and points the bottle in his face.  “You knew, didn’t you!”  Baines pushes his arm away and says calmly, “Aye, I knew.”
     “Then why the hell did you not tell me!” James yells at him.  “It was hardly my place, was it?”  James repeats his words, “Hardly my pl . . . Course it was your place,” James goes back to the liquor cabinet.   “I mean, if a man don’t know when ‘is own wife’s havin’ a baby . . .” Baines defends himself.  
     “How long have you known?” James interrogates.  “Three months,” Baines is forthright.  “Three months . . . oh, you are a fine friend [a friend who still calls him sir].”  James walks back over to him, “Did Mrs. Onedin tell you?”  “No sir, it was just a lucky guess, that was all.  She swore me to secrecy, and I kept my promise.”  “Everybody in the whole world knows,” James claims, not without some reason—if his sister-in-law Sarah knows, everyone does.  “Everybody but me!” he sits with his glass at the table.  Capt. Baines brings the bottle and another glass.
     “Well, I must say you don’t seem none too pleased, sir.  Could be a boy, you know,” he tries to give it a more positive spin.  “You know, I always reckoned that you wanted a son.  If it was me, I’d want a son,” Baines is calm.  “Well, it’s not you!  I mean, 10 or 20 years ago, it would have been all right.  But it’s not as if I’m a young man anymore, you see,” James is anything but calm.  “No, well that’s true,” Baines admits.  “It’ll be 20 years before that child’s off me hands,” James points out.
     “Yeah, but supposing it’s a boy.  Be a strong right arm for ya.  Great strength to a man, in ‘is old age,” Baines just keeps pouring the booze, calmly using the arguments he knows will have the hoped for effect.  
     “Oh, what do you know about it?” James argues.  “Well, only what I missed.  I mean, seems a pity to me that a man could work ‘ard all ‘is life, and leave no mark on the world.”  “What are you talkin’ about, eh?  I’ve left my mark.  I’ve left the Onedin Line, built up from one ship!”  “Who’s to carry it on?  Your brother has Samuel . . . I mean, Mr. Robert’s name will be on that store for many a long year.”
     “Samuel’s a good lad,” James is calmed with the mention of his favorite nephew, of whom he thinks highly.  “What’s to say you shouldn’t have a son as good as ‘im?”  “Aye, that’s true, but what’s to say I shouldn’t have a daughter?”  “Aye, yeah, well, I mean daughters can be . . .”  “Well, they can’t sail the ship, can they?  Or run a shipping line.”  “Well, your sister did.”  “What, sail a ship?”  “No, ran a shipping line.”  “Elizabeth?  Oh, hells bells, imagine havin’ a daughter like ‘er!”  Baines just keeps pouring for James, and James asks at last, “You tryin’ to get me drunk or summat?”  “Is that such a bad idea, sir?” “Congratulations to the next Onedin,” Baines lifts his glass in a toast.  James grudgingly drinks to it.

     “An’ I’ll tell ya this, ma’am, if he comes in at this hour and wants his supper, he’ll get the rough edge of my tongue,” Mrs. Gibson waves a silver spoon at Letty as she walks across the parlor to tell her.  Letty, who is sitting knitting, asks, “Charlotte gone to bed?”  “Aye.  She looked quite flushed.  Tch.  I hope she’s not sickening again.”  There’s a pounding at the door, and Mrs. Gibson goes to answer as she says, “Who can it be at this hour?”
     Letty puts down her knitting and stands up, watching to see.  We hear Capt. Baines’ voice in the hall.  Mrs. Gibson comes running back into the room, “It’s the master!”  
     James is not quite sure on his feet as he walks into the room.  He takes a deep breath as he comes in.  “Letty, I’ve come to apologize.  I behaved very badly, and I’m sorry [his voice cracks from inebriation].  We’ll talk about it in the morning.  I think I’ll go to bed now.”  “You’d better,” Letty agrees.  Capt. Baines offers a hand to James, but he says gruffly, “I can manage.”  Letty directs, “Mrs. Gibson, will you see he doesn’t fall down the stairs?”  “Happen it might bring ‘im to ‘is senses,” she answers sharply, but does as bidden.
     Baines is about to leave, but Letty calls him back, “Capt. Baines,” he turns and she gives him the “come here” motion of her finger.  He clears his throat and carefully walks over to the couch, reaching for it to steady himself.   He drops himself on it with a chuckle.  “Well?” Letty asks for an explanation in that one word.  
     “Well, I’m afraid it’s all my fault, ma’am.  When ‘e came aboard this afternoon, he was in a very poor state.”  “Well what kind of a state would you say he’s in now?”  “State of mind, I mean.  He was very low.  So I thought if he had a few drinks it’d take ‘is mind off things.”  “Well, I’d say you’ve succeeded admirably.”  “Aye [chuckle], brought ‘im round, though.  To the child, I mean . . . I . . . he . . . he’d be happier if it was a boy, though.  Said he’d make his 2nd name Will after me.  I’d like that.  I really would.”
     “Well, between you, it seems as if you’ve settled everything.”  “Though I did point out that it might be a girl.”  “Oh, you did consider that possibility.”  “Aye.  Yeah.  But he seemed to only want to talk about a boy, so I didn’t mention a girl no more.”
     Letty gets up, “Well, Capt. Baines, I’m not sure if I should thank you or not.”  Baines struggles to get up, and Letty gives him a hand to steady himself.  “I’m only sorry to bring ‘im home in such a state, ma’am.”  “Oh, well you brought him home.  I suppose what you did was for the best.”  He chuckles, “I think I’d better be going now.”  He puts on his hat, and as he walks toward the door Letty asks, “Are you sure you can manage?’  He turns around chuckling, “Bless you, ma’am.  He’s had twice the amount I’ve had.”  He chuckles again and bumps backward into the wall by the door, then leaves.  Letty laughs into her hands.  

     Sarah comes to visit Letty and suggests that they go into a partnership.  Letty names off her businesses:  the mill, the sack mending, the sheets and pillowcases for Samuel, and now the flock.  She feels it’s too much to take on more.  But Sarah has ideas, and has talked them over with Samuel.  Letty tells her, “You know, you’ve taken on a new lease of life!  I’ve been worrying about you needlessly!”
     The bell rings, Samuel comes in.  The 2 women leave, and Charlotte comes in (having heard the bell, hoping it’s her favorite cousin) . . . Letty suggests she pour Samuel a cup of coffee.  Charlotte asks Samuel if he’s coming to William’s 21st birthday party.  He says he’s had an invitation, and when she says she wants him to be there. “In that case, of course I shall come.”  
     Charlotte looks out in the hall, then closes the door.  She tells Samuel confidentially that William has asked her to marry him.  That’s what she wants to believe, but William doesn’t see it that way at all.  She broke the news to him that she was pregnant, and she thinks it’s the perfect solution, because now they (her father in particular) can’t say no to the marriage she's been wanting all along. 

     James goes to Elizabeth’s and lets her know that he and Letty won’t be at William’s birthday party.  He’ll be on his way to Ireland, and the very pregnant Letty has an excuse not to be out and about in Victorian society.  He asks Elizabeth to check in on Letty.  “Is something wrong?”  “No.  I just thought she might like to have a little talk with you, you know?  A woman’s talk.”  “James, have you upset her?”  “Me?” he laughs it off, “No.  Uh, no, no, we’re fine.  Aye, fine.”  “Well try hard enough and you’ll really convince yourself,” Elizabeth responds.   He leaves suddenly.


     James brings his seabag into the parlor at home.  “You’re off, then,” Letty says calmly.  “Aye, well I need to catch the tide.”  “Three days, ya said,” she seeks affirmation.  “Or maybe 4 . . . no more.”  “Take care.”  “Letty, um, I need a bit of . . .” “time,” she fills in the sentence, “I know, it’s my fault, I should have told you sooner.”  
      “No, no, no.  No, you had your reasons.”  In so saying, he is admitting that his reaction was the reason.  “I won’t keep anything from you again, I promise,” Letty tells him.  “Well, we’ll talk about it when I come back, eh?” (His oft repeated refrain.)  “I’ll try and keep sober this time,” he looks down.  “Oh James, I do love you,” she runs to him, and they embrace.  “You cryin’ or summat?”  “It’s because I’m happy.”  “Funny way of showin’ it,” he responds gently.

     James comes down into the saloon of his ship to find Samuel there.  The young businessman says he has business in Belfast, and asks if he can sail with James.  They reminisce a bit about when Samuel had stowed away on James’ ship.  As it turns out, Samuel is using this “pressing business” trip as an excuse to avoid William’s party as well.  They have an adventure finding an abandoned ship with leaking explosives, and luckily neither Letty nor Sarah know that they’ll be trying to take it as salvage.  

     Elizabeth does visit Letty, and as the latter arranges flowers in a vase, she tells Elizabeth, “The more I think about it, the more I realize how foolish Capt. Baines was in suggesting it would be a boy.”  “You know Letty, you worry too much about what James thinks.  The sooner he realizes he can’t have everything his own way, the happier he will be,” Elizabeth advises with her own opinion.
     “Something wrong between you and Daniel again?” Letty surmises, just as James had (James with a grin).  “Oh.  Is it obvious?  Stupid man.  But they’re all the same, you know.  When a woman marries, no matter what . . . protestations or promises have been made before, these are soon forgotten.  A woman takes her place beside all his other chattels.  Unless, of course, one is prepared to fight for some degree of independence.”  Are these the words of a woman of the 1880s, or the 1980s, when the show was written?
     “Yes, well, it would seem that you are,” Letty can see.  “And so should you, Letty.  I know that brother of mine.  Even as a boy he was determined to have his own way.”  “Oh.  Well then, I’ve nothin’ to worry about . . . he’ll obviously have a son.”  The two women share a quiet, friendly laugh.  

     At the end of William’s party, wherein he inherited the Frazer shipyard and shipping line, he tells Charlotte clearly that he does not intend to marry her.  He will fulfill his obligations to her and the child (financially, but he can't thus take back the illegitimacy and shame they would carry all their lives).  

     Sarah brings Charlotte home the next morning.  She had been walking at least 6 hours, and ended up at Sarah’s. “Something has obviously upset her, but every time I start to question her, she just bursts into tears,” Sarah tells Letty, “Look, she’s not going to say anything with me here, so I’d best go.”  Sarah leaves Charlotte with the loving Letty.
     “Fancy you getting up early just to go for a walk,” Letty begins.  All is silent.  Letty walks around and sits next to Charlotte on the couch.  “Did you enjoy the party last night?” Letty ventures, either because she thinks that will be something Charlotte is happy to talk about, or because she suspects that it has something to do with Charlotte’s unhappiness.  
     Charlotte manages to say quietly with a tear-wetted face, “He won’t marry me.”  “Hmm?”  Charlotte lifts her face, though not looking at Letty, and says a little louder, “He won’t marry me.”  “Oh, Charlotte,” Letty pulls her into her embrace, and Charlotte bursts into sobs.  “Oh, there, there.  I know he was your first love.  Oh, yes, I do.  Ya feel as though the world’s come to an end . . . “  But Charlotte tells her amidst her sobs, something that Letty must ask her to repeat.  “I’m carrying William’s child.”  “Oh, my God!” Letty exclaims.  
     “Letty, what am I going to do?  What will Father say?”

S6 E8—Letty & James face Charlotte’s troubles, all sorts of family troubles
     James sits at the breakfast table chuckling at something in the newspaper.  Charlotte keeps looking at Letty to help her tell her news.  Letty shakes her head subtly indicating it’s not the right timing. 
     “Good news, is it?”  Letty asks her husband.  “Hmm?  Oh, aye.  It’s, uh, from Mr. Blake in New Orleans . . . he says Baines bellowed like an angry bull when he got me cable, but he ended by going anyway.  Didn’t like handin’ over the ‘Trident’ one little bit.”  “Hmm, I’m sure he didn’t,” Letty comments, "Not like you, James, sending Capt. Baines to another owner.  What do you get out of it?”
     “Oh, not quite sure yet,” James says with a sigh.  “From what you tell me, this Bragg sounds like a dreadful man,” Letty ventures.  “Well, he wasn’t always like that.”  “What happened to change him?”  “Hmm?  Sorrow, guilt, drink, in that order.”  “Well, go on,” Letty is ready to hear the whole story, in order to avoid telling him another tragic story closer to home.  “Well, not really very much to tell.  He put his father’s ship on the rocks.  Lost all hands, including his father and his two brothers.  Most people blamed him, so, uh, he took to drink.”  “He’s been trying to drown the memory for 20 years.  Poor man,” Letty sympathizes.  
     James gets up suddenly, “Well, I best get myself off to the Exchange.  I’ll see you Letty,” James comes round the table to give her a kiss.  Charlotte stands up, upset.  Her father notices:  “By gum, you’re puttin’ on weight, young lady.”  “Yes I am, Father,” she tries to speak of her situation, but Letty tells her, “Don’t keep your father, Charlotte, he’s late already.”
     James leaves and when he’s shut the door, Charlotte turns on Letty, “If you won’t tell him, Letty, then I will!”  “It wasn’t the right moment,” Letty says and takes a sip of tea.  “It never is!  He’s been home from Africa for a month now, and you said you’d tell him!”  “And I will.  When he’s in the right mood.”  Letty seems to have forgotten her promise not to keep anything from him ever again, and the anguish she suffered when she didn't tell her husband her news when she had the chance, before the Reverend and his daughter showed up.
     Charlotte cries out, “Oh, I’m beginning to show already.  Soon everyone will know.”  “Nonsense, they’ll just think you’re putting on weight, like your father does.”  Letty says but she knows that’s not the right answer.  “You’re quite right, the sooner he’s told, the better.”
     “I wonder when William gets back from London,” Letty brings up.  “Well, he’s . . . he’s due back today, I think,” Charlotte tells her, then asks, “Why?”  “Men do change their minds sometimes [as James has done, about Letty’s pregnancy].  I know your father doesn’t like William very much, but I don’t know . . . if it’d make an honest woman of you . . .”  “You mean Father wouldn’t feel so badly about it,” Charlotte begins to hope.
     “Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, but . . . he can hardly object to the pair of you getting married now, can he?” Letty supposes. 
     “Letty, do you think it’s possible that he could have changed his mind?”  “You should go and see him this morning.  We’ll take the carriage.”  Charlotte doesn’t want Letty to go, so Letty allows that Mrs. Gibson can accompany her. 

     When Charlotte arrives at the Frazer office, Beaumont is there.  But he excuses himself, complimenting her that she is “bloomin’”.  That upsets Charlotte, as it is a term often used toward pregnant women.  William assures her Beaumont knows nothing, and at last gets her calmed down.  
     Charlotte asks about London, William closes the door and asks how her father took the news.  When she admits that she hasn’t told him yet, he’s not at all happy, and reminds her he’s been gone nearly a month!  She says that Letty has been looking for the right moment.  “And, I hoped . . . I thought you’d change your mind.  I’d make you a good wife . . .” He cuts her off to say, “I’m sure you would, but I’d be a bad husband.  And an even worse father.  I’ve told you, Charlotte, I’m not ready for marriage, not yet.”
     “And I’m not ready to be a mother, William, but it’s something that I have to face up to!” she yells at him through her tears.  “Keep your voice down, please,” he tells her, “Let’s talk about this sensibly, calmly.”  “The only sensible solutions is for you to marry me,” she sobs.  He reiterates his promise to take care of her and the child.  He tries to convince her with the promise of a legal document, a house in the country . . . but she alternates between hysteria and sobbing.  At last, she just runs out of the office.

     At home, James looks at his pocket watch.  “Two o’clock.  Right.  Clear the table, Letty . . . If she can’t learn to be here on time for her meals, then she can learn to do without them.”  He gets up and pats Samuel’s shoulder, “Nice to have seen you, Samuel.”  
     Samuel gets up from the couch, “But I haven’t told you about Alderman Swales yet.”  “Swales . . . oh, owns the post office.”  “Used to.  Beaumont’s bought him out.”  “Good bit of land that was, just by the river.  I had it in mind for you, Letty,” James tells her, “. . . sell off some of the land, with the profit build a factory for your women.”  “Well, you never said,” she says.  “Well, there wasn’t much point until I got it, was there. Still, too late now.”
     “That’s not what I came to tell you, Uncle.  Mr. Swales says that Beaumont is standing for the Council.”  “Is he now?  Really getting his feet under the table,” James says with a laugh.  “Several of the councilors think he ought to be opposed,” Samuel tells his Uncle.  Samuel assures Letty and James that he hasn’t come to ask James to run for the office, “We’d like you to sponsor Uncle Daniel . . .”  Samuel outlines the positive aspects of Sir Daniel running.  Samuel admits he has joined the Chamber of Commerce.  After some discussion, James leaves, and Samuel is about to leave.  Letty tells him, “You’re quite a politician yourself, Samuel . . . You know how to handle people, how to get your own way.”  “In some things,” he is modest, and honest.
     Charlotte and Mrs. Gibson come in then.  “We’ve had tears all the way home,” Mrs. Gibson says as Charlotte is still upset and in tears.  Letty dismisses Mrs. Gibson, and guides Charlotte to sit down with her on the couch.  
     “Perhaps I’d better go,” Samuel says, and Letty agrees.  But before he can move, Charlotte is sobbing, “He won’t marry me,” and “Samuel knows.”  She had told Samuel that William proposed, now she tells Letty and him that she’s pleaded with William, and he wouldn’t change his mind.  Samuel is outraged for her sake, not even knowing the worst of it.  He leaves vowing that he won’t stand by and let Charlotte be treated this way.  “Oh dear.  If only you had chosen differently,” Letty wishes.

      Elizabeth comes to tea, and James instructs her, “Now, Elizabeth, soon as Letty’s had her tea, you see that she puts her feet up, hey?”  He takes a little sandwich and leaves as Elizabeth says, “I will.”
     “James is being very considerate,” Elizabeth notes.  She offers Letty the little sandwich tray, but Letty declines.  “Letty, something’s wrong.”  Letty says she’s just tired.  Elizabeth says, “Are you sure that’s all it is? . . . I somehow had the feeling you rather I hadn’t called.”  “What nonsense.  I’m just a bit preoccupied . . . How’s William? . . . Daniel? . . . Oh, you’re not still . . . Look, Elizabeth, it’s none of my business, but, well, I always find with James if I give way over most things, when it comes to something really important, well, I usually end up getting what I want.”
     Elizabeth is upset about Daniel’s canal scheme, and Letty tells her confidentially that James has been asked, and will sponsor Daniel to oppose Beaumont in the election.  She supposes that will settle the canal issue, as a conflict of interest.  Elizabeth is delighted to hear it.  They are to come to Fogartys on Sunday.

     On Sunday Daniel insists he can serve in both capacities, so he and Elizabeth get into an argument.  James tries to point out the good points of the canal, so Elizabeth turns on him.  Letty defends James--it was Samuel’s idea that Daniel stand for election.  
     Meanwhile, Samuel challenges William to a fight, which solves nothing and upsets Charlotte, who doesn’t want Samuel to champion her, especially if it means hurting William.  She takes James’ carriage to return home.  Daniel comments that she’s been in a strange mood all day, and James overgeneralizes, “She’s been in a strange mood all her life.”  Daniel loans him a carriage so he and Letty can get home. 
     At home, James confronts Charlotte.  “James, James, keep your voice down, do you want all the neighbors to hear?” Letty tries to calm him.  “I’ll shout in me own household if I want to!”  
     After more loud demands, Letty finally says, “James, you’ve got to be told sooner or later . . . Charlotte is with child.”  James is incredulous, but as Letty continues to affirm it, he comes at Charlotte with, “Oh, you trollop, you!”  Letty puts herself between the two, “Don’t you dare strike her!  You hit her, I’ll leave this house!”  “You think she should go unpunished?!”  “That girl has been punishing herself for months!  What do you think the world will do to her once the baby’s born?”
     “Oh, she’ll be married long before then!” he roars.  “No, James, she won’t.  William has refused.”  “Oh, no, not of all people! . . .  What do you mean refused?” James is shaking with anger.  “He won’t marry me, Father!” Charlotte yells at last.  “He damned well will!  Charlotte, you come with me,” James marches to the door and opens it.  Charlotte walks through.  “You too, Letty,” he orders.

     James bursts into Elizabeth’s drawing room, interrupting another Fogarty argument.  Charlotte and Letty come in behind him.  “That damn son of yours has put my daughter in the family way.”  An argument ensues about William and Charlotte and who is to blame.  “This is history repeating itself,” James brings up Elizabeth’s past.  Both Letty and Daniel try to calm the situation.  They decide they must confront William.  “Father, you’re not to hurt him,” Charlotte pleads.  “If he doesn’t marry you I’ll break every bone in his body,” James growls.

     Daniel and James confront William at his office.  William confronts Daniel for having waited 18 years to marry his mother (William is 21, so it seems the dates have slipped around amongst the script writers).  But William is adamant that though they may beat him to a pulp, he won’t marry Charlotte, “It would soon end in unhappiness.  We are neither of us suited to one another.”  Too bad he didn’t come to that conclusion long ago, or at least a few months ago.

     “Oh Letty, he must be made to change his mind,” Elizabeth says back at Letty and James’ home.  “Once he’s decided on something, it’s like trying to move a mountain,” Letty states flatly.  “But we’re both agreed that a marriage between William and Charlotte could only lead to disaster,” Elizabeth points out.  She has experience with a disastrous marriage to legitimize an illegitimate pregnancy, even though she and Albert really cared for each other.  Letty agrees.  “Well then, somehow we have to convince James,” Elizabeth says.  “And Charlotte,” Letty adds.  Pretty soon Elizabeth and Letty are arguing about who is more to blame, William or Charlotte.
     James walks in, and when Elizabeth wants to talk about the marriage, he says, “There’s not going to be a marriage . . . You know the thought of William as my son-in-law just about turns my stomach.”  
     “James, what’s happened?” Letty asks.  “I’ve come to my senses, that’s what’s happened.”  He goes on to call William names.  So then Elizabeth comes again to her son’s defense and attacks Charlotte.  Letty yells at them to stop.  “Now will you both sit down and take a deep breath,” she commands, rather than asks.  They each take a seat--on opposite sides of the room, facing away from each other.  Letty tells them they must decide what’s best for Charlotte.

     Charlotte goes to Beaumont, William’s supposed friend and confidente, to see if he will convince William to marry her.  Beaumont denies that William has discussed it with him.  But William comes in saying it’s all decided, he doesn’t have to marry Charlotte.  Too late he sees Charlotte there.  She leaves with as much dignity as she can summon.

     Back at home, Charlotte sits stiff as a statue, while her father outlines the plan.  “So, Letty will take you to Aunt Mary’s, and there she’ll, uh, well, explain.  [After the birth] you can come home.  As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you’ve been on a holiday.”  James stops pacing and sits.  “Whatever you say, Father,” Charlotte is still a statue.  “While you’re away, I’ve persuaded your father to let me furnish the old cottage by the flour mill,” Letty says as she sits next to the scowling Jame and holds his arm.  
     “I’ll engage a nurse, and you can visit the baby whenever you want to,” Letty offers generously.  “I don’t want to see it,” Charlotte says.  The child would always be a painful reminder of her mistake(s), but having been in a sense ignored for years by her father, one would think she would not want to do that to her child.  But she's still a child herself, and it's too recent and traumatic.  
     “Oh nonsense, Charlotte, you can’t just abandon the child.”  “Very well,” Charlotte bends her will but not her body.  “Father, I’d like to go to my room, now, if I may.”  She is totally dispirited.  James says, “Yeah.”  Letty says that she must get as much rest as she needs, and that she’ll send Mrs. Gibson up with a tray.  When Charlotte is gone the two parents (Letty having been the closest Charlotte has had to a mother for many years) look at one another—they’ve faced a crisis together, at least the first phase.  

S6 E9--The birth of James’ son, Samuel’s solicitude for Letty, then for Charlotte’s situation
     As Letty nears her due date, James is stuck in a northern port having trouble filling a contract for shipping spuds (potatoes).  All the officials conspire to keep him from filling the contract, claiming his ship is unseaworthy.  While waiting for their troubles to be repaired, Baines and James share a bottle and get drunk. 
     “Funny, really . . . I was just thinkin’ here’s me, the last of the Baineses, and there’s you young enough to be my son, just startin’ a 2nd family.  Funny, that,” Baines thinks.  “Funnier still, when you think my child, and my grandchild will be the same age,” James considers.  “Grandchild?!  What, Miss Charlotte?” Baines is astounded.  “Thought you knew,” James says.  After all, Baines knew about Letty’s pregnancy before he did.

       Letty is anxious for her pregnancy to be done.  Sarah good naturedly warn her that pregnancy is nothing compared to the trials of motherhood.  Sarah calls the expected baby a boy as they descend from the bedroom (where the doctor examined Letty) into the hall.  “Surely you can’t doubt it’s going to be a boy,” Sarah says.  “Well, I hope so, for James’ sake,” Letty responds.  
     As the doctor leaves, he asks if Mr. Onedin will be home in time.  “Oh, I don’t think even James would miss the birth of his son,” Letty is amused, but sure.   Sarah stays to visit awhile in the drawing room.  
     “What news of poor Charlotte?”  “She seems . . . very well, her Aunt Mary spoils her a good deal.”  Sarah volunteers to take care of Letty’s business so that she can focus on resting before her delivery. 

     Samuel comes to visit Letty, and he is very solicitous.  Letty expresses her gratitude both for him and for his mother Sarah.  He says the more Sarah has to do, the more it will keep her mind off that charlatan spiritualist.  Letty asks him not to think too badly of Charlotte, and he says to the contrary, he sympathizes with her for her having to face the censure of the world alone.  

     Dr. Porton is the attending physician, as well as the sponsor of Mr. Simmonds to run a 3-way race between himself, Beaumont, and Sir Daniel Fogarty.  Elizabeth manages things so that Beaumont and Sir Daniel destroy each other’s chances.   Simmonds wins the position, though Daniel had tried to bribe him to leave the race.

     James and Baines find out that the officials holding them up have interests in another ship, to whom they give the potato contract.  The officials will not allow any sailors to work their ship, so at last James tells Baines the two of them will sail home just themselves, and Baines, as he has so many times, willingly supports James, even through a severe storm.

    Samuel happens to be visiting when Letty goes into labor.  He gets a bit panicked, keeps calling for Mrs. Gibson, and Letty tells him just to run for the doctor.  As she labors in her bed upstairs, Letty keeps asking if James has come.  He does finally make it, not having slept for “a couple of days.”  
     When he realizes what’s happening, James starts to run up the stairs, but Elizabeth stops him.  The doctor is with her.  But Elizabeth warns him that Letty is having a difficult time.  Letty manages to say through the pain, “Must be a boy, he’s so stubborn.”  James looks up toward the bedroom, then closes his eyes and whispers, “Oh, please don’t let her suffer.”  
     Samuel hands him a drink and stays with him as they wait.  James paces the hall, stares up the stairs, remembers.  “This is how Anne died.  Just like this.  I thought, never again.  I’ll not go through all this again!”
     Elizabeth comes in to announce to the sweaty faced James, “It’s a boy.”  At last he can smile.  He goes up to find Letty still, eyes closed.  He kisses her gently, and she opens her eyes, manages a sort of smile, and asks, “Is it what you wanted? . . .”   The doctor gestures for him to come outside the room, so James tells her, “You just rest, now, eh?” She takes hold of his jacket, and he assures her, “I’m not leaving.  Just going to have a word with the doctor.”
     The doctor waits for him just outside the doorway.  When James comes, he closes the door.  “The child is not well.  His color is blue, heartbeat very irregular.  I’m afraid I have no choice.  I have to tell you it is unlikely the child will live above a few days.”  It's tempting to wonder if the baby's development was affected after all by being corsetted so tightly in the first trimester, but we can't really knoow.  Our hearts are breaking with and for James’, and for Letty. 

S6 E10—James’ and Letty’s loss; James is lost at sea; Samuel marries Charlotte
     James and Capt. Baines stand on the dock watching the loading of their ship, in the rain.  James stands like a stone monument under his umbrella.  A man comes up and introduces himself, wants to take passage as they are bound for South Africa.  James merely says, “You deal with this Baines,” and walks away.
     “Not a very civil sort of a chap,” the man judges.  “He has his reasons,” Capt. Baines says without elaborating.

     “Mistress says she’ll be down in a moment, Milady,” Mrs. Gibson tells Elizabeth, aka Lady Fogarty.  Mrs. G leaves.  “It’s 10 days now, since the funeral, and she hasn’t been out of the house once,” Sarah notes.  “It’s up to us to stop her from brooding.  Isn’t that why we’re here?” Elizabeth asks.  “Oh, what a tragedy.  She and James so looking forward to a son, and within 2 days that poor little mite . . .”  Elizabeth interrupts, “Sarah, talk like that isn’t going to help Letty.”
     Letty comes through the door looking traumatized, but she pulls herself together to answer their queries, “I’m quite well, thank you.  Can I offer you some refreshments?” her hands are gripping each other, maybe not quite wringing, but squeezing, at least.  
     “Oh no, no.  We won’t stay long.  I called, really, to ask if you and James would care to have dinner on Saturday.”  “Oh, that’s very kind of you, Elizabeth, but . . . well, I rather not, if you don’t mind.”
     “Well Sarah will be there with Samuel,” Elizabeth tries to entice.  “It’ll be a family gathering,” Sarah adds.  “Well, all the same, I’m sure you’d understand,” Letty doesn’t give way.  “Wouldn’t you rather talk it over with James first?” Elizabeth tries to keep the door open.
     “Well, I wish . . .” Letty’s face is struggling to hold itself together.  “Oh, I do wish I could,” Letty cries into her hands.  “Oh, there, there, come and sit down,” they guide her over to the couch.  “I’m so sorry,” Letty sobs, “I’m trying to control . . .” she retrieves her white handkerchief to help her efforts.  
     “It’s just that James has . . . has hardly said a word . . .” Letty laments.  “Oh, that brother of mine can be so heartless,” Elizabeth says.  “No.  Oh no, Elizabeth.  He wants to, I know he does.  It’s just that he . . .  seems to have shut himself off.  He’s all bottled up inside.”  “James was never one to show his feelings, even at the best of times,” Elizabeth tries to console.  “I know he grieved deeply over Robert, but he kept all that inside,” Sarah also tries to comfort her.
     “. . . but I’ve shut off too.  He needs my help as much as I need his.  It’s just that . . .”  “Letty, the best thing for the pair of you is for you to get with child again,” Elizabeth imparts her “wisdom”.  Perhaps the writers wished to show the foolish, thoughtless things people say to those who grieve.  “Oh, Elizabeth, how could you!” Sarah chides.  
     “Oh no.  Oh no, I’ve quite made up my mind I shall have no more children.  The thought of going through that again . . . with the possibility . . .” Letty barely manages to get out a few disconnected words, and Sarah says at the same time, “Those things are not in our hands.”  
     “It was a chance in a thousand,” Elizabeth tries to convince Letty.  ‘No, no, Elizabeth . . . If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”  “Letty, with the best medical attention . . .” Sarah is trying to say, when Letty whips around and shouts angrily, “Oh, for heaven sakes, Sarah, I had the best of medical attention!”
     The room goes silent, in stark contrast to the 3 of them all trying to speak at once.  “Look, I’m sorry, I know that ya both mean well.  It’s just, if you don’t mind, I’d rather be left alone,” Letty sobs and turns away.  
     “I see.  So you’re just going to stay here moping, and feeling sorry for yourself, I suppose,” Sarah says what she thinks. Elizabeth says quietly to her, “Oh, Sarah.”  But Sarah goes on, “Well, she does have others to consider.”  Sarah gets up and walks over to where Letty has retreated.  “I had to lay off 2 of my seamstresses yesterday . . . without supervision, your women at the flockworks are falling behind with my order.  Now for my girls--no flock means no work.”
     Elizabeth sees that Sarah’s forthrightness is working.  She also rises and comes over, “Sarah is right, Letty.  Employers do have a duty to their work people.”  “Jobs are not easy to come by.  I’d hate to think that I was the cause of some poor soul facing starvation,” Sarah continues.
     Letty, struggling to comprehend, stammers.  “Bu . . the . . . They’ve fallen behind, ya say?”  “Unless something is done, I shall have to lay off more . . . You know the saying, When the cat’s away, the mice . . .” Sarah keeps on.
     “Oh well . . . maybe I shall just have to go down and see what’s happening at the flockworks.  You know Mrs. M promised me faithfully that she would keep an eye on those girls.  Well, I’ll soon sort this nonsense out,” Letty slowly begins to return to her old self.  

     Later, Letty sits at the parlor table with her business books open, muttering and sorting out nonsense.  James sits stiffly straight, hardly moving.  Letty looks over at him, compassion in her whole demeanor, “There’s a letter from Charlotte on the mantlepiece.”  “Aye,” he mutters, “I’ll read it later.”  She gets up and walks toward him. 
     “Elizabeth and Sarah called today.”  She sits beside him.  “Oh . . . uh,” he almost looks at her.  “Elizabeth asked us to dinner on Saturday.”  “What’s she going to serve up for sympathy? . . . Oh, she’s got as bad as Sarah.  Why can’t they leave people alone?” his voice is low.  
     “I think you’re being a bit unfair,” Letty lets him know.  “Well, I don’t feel I’ve been unfair to anyone at the moment.”  “Me included,” Letty charges.  He moves his hands at last, one to his knee, the other to cover her hand, and he looks at her, almost says something to her, but instead says to the room, “I’m gonna go for a walk to the docks.”  He gets up and walks out, saying in his ordinary voice, “See if the ‘Osprey” is ready to sail yet.”  
     “Maybe you ought to sail with . . .” Letty starts to say.  “Hmm?” James didn’t quite hear.  “Nothing,” she isn’t quite ready to finish that sentence, that kind of decree.
     Interestingly, for all the words he could say to Sarah in her grief, he isn’t able to say them to himself, nor to listen to them.  For all the difficulty Sarah had to get back out into the world again, she feels that 10 days of mourning is more than enough for Letty.  But Sarah found healing in getting back to life.  James admitted that he got through the loss of Anne by keeping busy (S3 E9).  Sarah and Elizabeth rescued Letty from the abyss by getting her back to work, back to thinking outside herself, concerning herself with others.

     In the saloon of the “Osprey” Capt. Baines tells James, “Every bit of cargo is stowed, and all I wait on is the tide.”  “Then you should make a fast passage, shouldn’cha?” James makes a comment/command as he drinks the glass Baines has just poured for him.  
     “Aye, and I can’t wait to get away.  If the truth is known, Liverpool don’t mean much to me these days.  Too much noise, too many people.  When I’m at sea somehow I feel I have time to think.”  Liverpool population in 1880 was about 600,000, ranked 6th in the UK; 1890 not quite 700,000, still ranked 6th.
     “Oh, aye, what about?” James asks as he continues working on his paperwork.  “Oh, sometimes nothin’ a-tall.  I dunno, it sorta clears my ‘ead.  You know . . . I, uh . . . Well I’m no go with words.”  “No, I know whatcha mean.  Somethings that just can’t be put into words,” James says pensively.  “Aye, that’s true,” Baines agrees.
     Baines understands James, has a way of talking to him that is effective, like when he helped him come to terms with Letty’s pregnancy.  They “get” each other, they have some similarities of personality, some similarities of experience and perspective, and they have the history, the easiness of old acquaintance, that makes for sharing.
     “You know I enjoy that run down to the Cape [of Good Hope].  Plenty of sun, flying fish fer breakfast . . .” Baines begins applying balm to James’ hurt.  “. . . you’ll be wantin’ me to come with ya,” James chuckles wryly, “I imagine that was your intention.”  “Aye?  What would I want you along with me for?  I was planning to enjoy meself,” Capt. Baines uses reverse psychology without any formal education.
     “What are you thinkin’ of getting up to, Baines?”  “Oh, nothing.  Just that.  Couple a months relaxin’ in the sun, doin’ nothin’, thinkin’ nothin’ . . . just what I need.  I’d hardly get that with you along, now would I?”  Baines claims, as he knows it will provide the remedy.  “Taken to speakin’ yer mind quite a bit, recently, haven’t you, Baines?” James pretends to rebuke his employee, who has actually become his best friend.
     “Well, there’s nothin’ wrong with that, is there?  After all, you do it enough,” Baines points out.  “Let me tell you this:  if I want to come on this voyage I will.  I want the ‘Osprey’ to have a quick turn around,” James gives himself an excuse to do just as he wants.  “And so she will,” Capt. Baines promises.
     “With you lyin’ around in the sun, stuffin’ your belly full of flying fish . . .” James makes it sound like he’s questioning his best captain when we know it’s just their way of relating to each other.  “Now look, I can work this ship just as hard as you can,” Capt. Baines knows he doesn’t have to say that, but for the sake of their conversation, the healing that it offers, he does.
     “You sailing in the afternoon?” James asks.  “Aye,” Baines answers.  “I’ll bid you good night, then,” James gathers up the papers he’s been working on and goes up the steps from the cabin to the deck on his way home.  Capt. Baines silently chuckles to himself.

     At home, Letty, standing above the seated James, tries to get through to him the only way she knows how, “It’s past.  No good can come of brooding on what might have been.  If we were meant to have . . .”
     “Meant!?” James interrupts her.  “If I thought like that, I’d still be a penniless sailor,” he spits out bitterly.  “All I’m saying is that we’ve got to pick up the pieces.”  “Oh aye.  Pretend it never happened, I know.”  “James!  I lost a son as well,” she cries out in pain.  That does have some effect on him, by the look of his face.
     “Look,” Letty seats herself in another chair.  “Why don’t ya take yourself off to sea?”  “What?” he can hardly believe what she’s saying, rather than bemoaning his going.  “I’m tryin’ to forget, but you won’t let go.  The way we’re both feeling, we’re no help to one another a’tall.”  James leans forward in his chair, “Do you really mean it?” he asks in a flat voice.  She looks at him momentarily before saying, “I think it would be best for both of us.  Yes.”

     Next day James is boarding the ship with his seabag under his arm.

     While James is gone, Samuel and his mother visit Letty.  He tells them he’s paid a visit to Charlotte at Aunt Mary’s.  Letty appreciates his thoughtfulness.  Sarah says, “I sometimes think that Samuel is the most thoughtful member of this family.  Not like that scapegrace Will . . .” Letty interrupts her there.
     Sarah gets up to take her teacup to the table and goes on, “Samuel, dear, it was a kind thought, and I appreciate that you were motivated by the highest principles,” then she turns toward him to say, “but you must understand that in this wicked world, cruel tongues do wag.  And we don’t want the finger of suspicion pointing in the wrong direction, do we?”
     Samuel simply says, “I proposed . . . I asked Charlotte if she would consent to be my wife.”  “Samuel, how could you?!” his mother can only ask with a whisper.  “That’s a very gallant gesture, Samuel, but you do have your own future to think of,” Letty tells him.  “I absolutely forbid it!” Sarah says.  
     Samuel reminds his mother that he is of age (he’s 7 months older than William, who has recently turned 21).  “It’s only Charlotte that requires permission.  That’s why I wanted to speak to you Aunt Letty.”  Letty doesn’t want to make that life-altering a decision without James.  Samuel says they can’t wait for him to get back (as his intention is to save her reputation, besides his own feelings toward her).  If Letty has to make the decision, her conscience will only allow her to say, "No."  
     Sarah thinks that settles the matter, “Really, Samuel, I can’t imagine what your poor father would have said.”  “Oh, it was my impression that he was quite in favor of the match,” Samuel counters.  To Sarah these are totally different circumstances, but to Samuel they are the same.  He is still in love with Charlotte.  
     Letty presses him to consider if Charlotte loves him, “Such a marriage would be a sure recipe for disaster.”  Samuel reminds them that Aunt Elizabeth eloped, and though he’d prefer to have their blessing, he and Charlotte plan to marry with or without approval.  “We thought just a quiet wedding.  One or two close relatives.  And that way one more skeleton can be safely locked away in the family closet."
     “Well, I don’t know what James is going to say,” Letty is concerned.  

     When Elizabeth and Daniel tell William about the wedding, he comments that they went without even telling him about it.  Daniel says he could hardly expect an invitation, Samuel has forbidden him from the house, and probably his Uncle James will never forgive him.  
     Elizabeth still points out that it wasn’t a one-sided affair (without considering that her son was the elder of the two, and thus responsible).  Daniel tells him that he must make peace with James, or James will make it a point to ruin the Frazer Line (we don’t know that, but Daniel thinks so).  That’s when William admits that he’s thinking of selling out (under the influence of the manipulative, conniving Beaumont).

     James and Baines have ended up stranded on the coast of Africa without a ship.  They are fortunate to find a boat, but the best they can do is float adrift on the ocean, after they lose the pieces of wood they were using for oars, hoping to cross the sea lanes and get picked up.  With no replies, no word from them, Charlotte imagines that her father doesn’t want anything to do with her.

     Samuel and the very pregnant Charlotte come to visit Letty, who looks like she’s crocheting with knitting needles.  Samuel is very attentive to Charlotte.  
     “Any news from Uncle James?” Samuel asks.  “Not a word.  But he never was the most industrious of correspondents,” Letty remarks.  “I did write and give him the news, of course,” Letty tells them.  “Perhaps that is why he does not deign to reply.  Words for once have failed him,” Charlotte is a little bitter herself.  
     “Your father always had the highest regard for Samuel,” Letty no doubt knows that he, as well as herself, would have preferred Charlotte to have attached herself to Samuel rather than William.  “I’m sure he’d be delighted by the news,” Letty doesn’t want to dwell on her concerns over the marriage.  
     “Not delighted enough to find his way to a telegraph office,” Charlotte accuses, while Samuel proposes that perhaps he hasn’t had opportunity, or may not have received Letty’s letter yet.  
     “Well, he should have, I sent it care of our agents in Lisbon.  He should have called there weeks ago,” it’s plain that Letty is concerned about her husband, even more than for Charlotte's feelings.  

     Through one of her employees, Letty finds out that a company called Portside Holdings has plans for buying up a series of properties, including the one she has a leasehold on.  She has turned down their offer, but the family knows that Beaumont owns Portside Holdings.  Letty shows the map to Samuel, and wishes James were around, as “he would know what to do”.
     Then Charlotte goes into Labor, and Samuel is a little less novice at knowing what to do (and less panicked), as well as having Letty there to direct.  Charlotte says, “I’m really glad Father isn’t here at the moment, Letty.”  At last she can think of something other than fearing her father's condemnation.

     James and Baines have been out to sea in a little boat for 12 days, they’ve lost their “paddles” through fatigue and deprivation, no food nor water, faces blistered by the sun.   
     “Been through a lot together, you ‘n me,” James says through swollen lips that hardly move.  “Aye, more’n 20 years,” Baines replies.  “’cept when you left me for 2 years [I thought it was 5, or was there another time?],” James brings up.  “Aye, you deserved that,” Baines isn’t afraid to say.  
     “Deserved a lot of things, Will,” James confesses, using his friend/employee's given name, which he doesn't do too often.  “Wish I could’ve made my peace with Letty, though,” James regrets.  “Aye, fine woman.  I should have told her about how sorry I was about your son.  But in times like that, words don’t come easy,” Baines speaks for both of them, really.  “I know . . . I know,” James agrees.

     At home, Charlotte has given birth to a boy.  Elizabeth mentions the Portside Holdings affair, that Daniel has said he will look into.  With emotion Letty says, “Well, if James were here, I . . . I wouldn’t have to bother Daniel over this matter.”
     Elizabeth gets up and walks over to Letty, “Have you still not heard from him?  I look at the list every day, but there’s no mention of the ‘Osprey’, so at least it isn’t bad news.  Oh look, Letty, maybe they’ve put into some remote place for repairs.  Or maybe they’re simply becalmed,” Elizabeth offers some possibilities.
     “Or maybe he’s still so unhappy that he can’t bring himself to write to me or anyone.  Oh, Elizabeth, I should have helped him more . . . it’s just that I was so lost in me own sorrow, I . . . oh, he did so want a son.”  She lets out all her emotions in a way she could not do with any other, especially Charlotte.

     James, nearly dead, calls out to the motionless Capt. Baines, “Will . . . Will . . . Will!”  At last Baines answers, “Aye, I ain’t gone yet . . . and when I do, it’ll be the last of the Baineses.”  “Nobody to follow me, either,” James laments.  “Don’t matter.  Not really matter,” Baines speaks of the long run.  “Does to me,” James finally admits.

     Mrs. Gibson comes into the parlor apace, and at the table, notes, “Tch.  Why ya haven’t touched your food.  It’ll be stone cold,” then she notices that Letty sits with her back turned, stone cold.  She walks over, “Ma’am, what is it?”  “It’s the ‘Osprey’.  She’s finally been reported as missing.”  

     The camera shows Letty framed by a pane of the window, a still-life.  The clock ticks on.  Elizabeth goes over to her, “Letty, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but . . . sometimes it’s better to face the facts.”  But Letty is torturing herself with, “Did I do enough to save our child?”
     Letty has got up and walked away as she talked.  Elizabeth and Sarah follow her.  Elizabeth speaks, “Letty, James has been missing for over 3 months . . .”  “He’ll be home very soon, I know he will!” Letty is sure.  “You must face facts,” Sarah reiterates.  “We can’t believe it any more than you can,” Elizabeth says, though it’s clearly not exactly true.  She and Sarah have faced the “facts”.  
     “But the ‘Osprey’ has been officially posted missing, and there’s not been a word,” Elizabeth continues.  “I know it’s hard to accept,” Sarah begins, but Letty cuts in, “I won’t accept it.  James is alive.  I know it.  I feel it!”
     “Mr. Tuppman needs instructions concerning the Onedin Line.  Now Letty, all I’m trying to say is . . .” A scream is heard in the hall, and in walks James.
     “Ya look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” he says to the three women standing rigidly across the room.  Elizabeth is first to walk over and embrace him, then Sarah.  Letty is rooted to her spot.  
     “James . . . oh, how dare you put us through all this torture,” Elizabeth gently chides, “Why didn’t you let us know you were safe?”  He chuckles, “Couldn’t.  A steamer picked us up.  Even then it took 6 weeks.”  That would mean they were adrift a month and a half.  No doubt much of that 6 weeks aboard the steamer they were very ill and recovering from exposure, starvation, dehydration.
     Letty and James walk slowly toward one another.  “Letty . . .” James speaks her name as Sarah excitedly says, “Oh, James, so much has happened since you’ve been gone, I don’t know where to begin . . .”  “Sarah . . . go home.  Both of ya.”  Exuent.  
     James and Letty gaze at each other, not as young lovers, but as easy long-acquainted loved ones.  At last they embrace.  

     At the christening party, Capt. Baines tells about his lucky pebble that kept him alive by keeping it in his mouth to produce saliva.  It turned out to have a diamond in the middle of it.  The one he gave James didn’t; they all enjoy the humor of that.  James, with Letty’s hand clasped around his elbow, congratulates Daniel on his election to Parliament.
     Samuel comes in and thanks Capt. Baines for coming, who says, “I done a lot of things in my life, but never a godfather.”  
     James beckons, “Samuel, a word in your ear.  Bit late in the day, I know.  This is Charlotte’s dowry.”  He hands Samuel an envelope.  “Oh, that’s most generous,” Samuel takes it.  James nods his head at it, indicating he should open it, which he does.
     “Oh, £15.”  “Well, not exactly . . . Them’s 15 original Onedin shares.  I bought ‘em back from your father.  That represents a 15% interest!” James explains.  
     “15% of the Onedin Line?  Oh, no, I couldn’t!” Samuel is overwhelmed.  “Go on, while I’m in a generous mood!”  Letty happens up at that moment, and looking at her, James says, “Anyway, somethings [are] more important than money.”
     “Well, thank you, I’m really most grateful, Uncle . . . Father-in-Law,” Samuel says.  “Uh, let’s say Uncle for now, until I get me bearings,” James tells him good naturedly.  Samuel goes to show his mother, and Capt. Baines comes over to James and Letty.  “You know, it does my heart good to see you and Mr. Onedin so happy together.  You know, I always remember what he told me when we were in that boat together, and he . . . he . . .” Baines notes the look on James’ face and suddenly he’s forgotten what it was he always remembers.
     Charlotte comes in with the baby, to general oohs and aahs.  
     “Hello little Robert,” Sarah says.  “Robert, what a well-chosen name,” says Baines.  “You’ll like the 2nd one even better, Robert Baines Onedin,” Samuel announces.  Charlotte tells her father, “We had thought of Robert James, but . . .”  Elizabeth says, “Oh heavens, one James in the family is more than enough!”  James isn’t offended, he's as amused as any of them.
     The bells are ringing out the happy tidings, and Sarah says it's time to be off.  Charlotte hands baby Robert to her father.  She uses the intimate moment to say something, “Papa . . .”  “Eh, Lass, let the past bury the past.”  She’s about to take the baby back, but he indicates “not yet”, nods with his head for her to join the others on the way to the church.  Letty calls for James, and he smiles at his grandson, “Come on then, lad.”  Can this grandson fill the place of the son he always wanted?

S7 E1--Lettie feels useless on long voyages, James wants her to sail w/him; what can they really share?
    “He’s letting her fall away again, Capt. Baines,” James micromanages again.  “I know, I know.  I got eyes in my head,” Capt. Baines answers, then calls out, “Helmsman, watch your course.”  “I reckon we should log up 200 [miles or knots?] today.  We should see the Rock [Gibraltar] within the week, if this wind holds.”
     “It’s freshening.  Don’t you think it be a mite too cold for Mrs. Onedin?” Baines suggests.  Letty sits on the deck wrapped up, shivering, trying it read.  “No,” James answers.  “Sea air never did anybody any harm.  In fact, I told ‘er it would do ‘er good.”  Capt. Baines walks away.
     “Bit liverish this morning,” James accuses Capt. Baines as he follows him along the deck.  “We lost 3 days putting into Port Said,” Baines brings up one of his complaints.  “Oh, not still on about that, are ya?” James questions.  “Well, I’ve been workin’ it out.  Port dues, towage charges, and pilotage.  We’ll see no change out of £50.”  “Well, what of it?  It’s my money,” James argues.  “Some of it,” Baines responds.  “Oh, I see.  Now that you’ve got a few shares in the ship, you . . . Well, I’ll pay for it out of me own pocket,” James tells him.  “Right!”  “Right! . . . And take the profit,” James retorts.  “Profit? . . . What profit?” Baines wants to know.
     “I picked up a contract, transporting horses for the army,” James is self-satisfied.  “Well that’s steamship trade,” Baines notes.  “Yes, and Sister Elizabeth will offer me no less than £500 for it.”  Baines looks at him with open mouth.  For all his experience as a seaman and a captain, Baines still doesn’t have quite the shrewd, strategic trading mind that James has.  
     “Yes.  I think I’ll join Letty,” James says.  But Letty’s deck chair is empty.  Capt. Baines comes up behind James.  “Perhaps she found the atmosphere a bit too sharp,” he digs James a bit in his turn.

     “Here ya are, ma’am.  I put a bit of rum in [the coffee].”  “Oh, thank you, Croaker,” Letty is still wearing her coat and hat.  “You want to watch that wind,” he says as he pulls her wraps up onto her shoulders better.  “Easy to go down with the pneumonia, or the influenza,” he is solicitous.  “I think I will survive, Croaker,” Letty speaks kindly, but doesn’t want to be a bother.  “It’s a killer, that old influenza,” he tells her.  Probably he speaks from experience, likely someone in his family or friend circle.
     James comes down the steps, and Croaker greets him with a salute and a “sir”.  James takes his coat off, but doesn’t greet his wife.  “I see Thomas Cook & Son are sending a steamer up the Nile at their own expense,” Letty comments on what she’s reading.  “That’ll cost them a bob or two,” James makes his own comment.
     “Do you think General Gordon will be rescued, James?” Letty asks.  “Oh, ‘course he will.  I heard that he can hang on in Khartoum for at least 6 months [the siege of Khartoum lasted mid-Mar 1884 to the end of Jan 1885] . . . Still enjoyin’ the voyage?” James asks her.  “Hmm?  Oh yes.  Yes,” she says, “Still, I shan’t be sorry to get home.  I mean, we’ve been away for 6 months.  Oh, I’m so looking forward to moving into the new house, James.  Our own little villa, just for the 2 of us.  Oh aren’t you?”
     “Oh, aye, aye,” James agrees verbally, at least.  “Anyway, I don’t think I’m really cut out to be a lady of leisure.  Oh, there’s little to do at home and, well, the factory more or less runs itself now,” Letty goes on and on.  It would stand to reason he could relate to her dissatisfaction with being idle.  He certainly is dissatisfied when idle.
     “But you are still enjoying it?” James wants to be reassured.  “Some of it,” Letty gives way to a little more honesty.  “Well, most of it, really.  Only . . .”  “Right.  Next time we’ll go somewhere warmer,” James jumps to a conclusion based on Baines’ observation, rather than listening carefully to what Letty is saying, or not saying.  
     “South Africa . . . now, you’ve never been there . . .” he begins to plan.  “James . . . no,” Letty can see where this is headed.  “Look, don’t you see when you’re aboard ship, there’s always something for you to do.  But, well, I feel I’m just frittering my time away.  Oh, it’s pleasant enough, and some of it I do enjoy . . .”
     “But it’s not enough,” he finally clues in.  “Look, James, in the 2 years since Charlotte married, I’ve been away with you 3 times.  I’ve tried sharing your life.  Really, I have.  Don’t you think you could try sharing mine?”
     If this is 1884, then Charlotte would have married in 1882 (age 20).  But Robert died in 1883, sometime before that event.  Thus, again, the dates/chronology of the storyline don't match up.  Someone(s) wasn't/weren't careful on that score.
     “Thought you said you had nowt to do,” James retorts.  “Well, I’m sure we could find something to share together,” Letty supposes.  “Like what?” James challenges her.  “Oh, dammit, James, I don’t know,” she finally loses her patience.  “There you are, ya see,” James feels he’s won.
     “Sometimes you can be so pigheaded and selfish!” she tells him.  “Who, me?”  “Yes, you!  Always what you want.  Take the house, for instance.  You knew I wanted somewhere smaller now that we’re on our own.”  “Well, I agreed to move, didn’t I?”  “Yes, in the end.  And I expect I shall be left to furnish it on my own . . . Oh now, that’s something we could do together, James,” Letty feels satisfied that she has found something.  “Right, if that’s what you want . . . I’ll spend a couple of months ashore.  Get the place ship-shape.”
     “Do you mean that?

     But James feels the ship’s change in course, a metaphor for their lives.
     They’ve come across a couple people in a small boat.  It’s an Egyptologist and his daughter, and he has something in his bag he keeps tightly in his clutches.  The professor and his daughter join James, Letty, and Baines for supper at the captain’s table.  James wants to know how the professor and his daughter came to be adrift mid-Mediterranean in a small boat, but the professor wants to tell about his prowess as an Egyptologist.  Letty tells her husband gently, “James, why not let Professor Dawson tell the story in his own way?”
     The professor had a rivalry with another Egyptologist, who defamed him and had him set upon by the authorities.  He and his daughter escaped.  They were offered passage to Crete by a Greek who took a high price to ship them in the middle of the night, and the next morning they discovered that the dhow was full of lepers headed for a leper colony.  
     Everyone at the table is suddenly highly uncomfortable.  James gets up and quietly tells Croaker, who is serving, to get on with his work.  The professor claims that they had no contact with any of the lepers, as the captain roped off a section of the deck for their sole use.  When they got close to Crete, by paying a lot more money, they got the captain to let them off on a deserted stretch of beach. 
     They had no papers, weren’t sure if the captain would tell a story that would get them in trouble with the local police or the British Consul, so the professor stole a fishing boat.  Knowing nothing about sailing, they just drifted for 2 days.  
     Interesting that several men/widowers in the series travel with, or rely on, their daughters.  One might speculate whether that reveals something about the writers, or whether it’s just a means they use of providing a relationship interest for the main character, for the sake of the audience.  We might also contrast that with the relationship between James and his daughter.
     “What a terrible experience for them to go through,” Letty empathizes after they have left the room.  “Aye, if it’s true . . . Only got their word for it,” James, the more experienced in life, the world, and the more skeptical, poses.  Capt. Baines threatens Croaker, “If you breathe a word of what you heard in here tonight . . . If I hear anyone else mention the word leprosy, I’ll know you’ve gabbed and I’ll personally make sure you never work another ship again.  Now do I make myself clear?”
     “You were a bit sharp with Croaker, weren’t you Capt. Baines?” Letty defends the man who was so solicitous of her.  “Mrs. Onedin, if the word got out that those 2 have been in contact with lepers, we’d have a mutiny on our hands before we could say knife.”  “Surely not,” Letty doesn’t want to believe it.
     “Letty, for a start, no port would give us entry.  The best we can hope for is 5 weeks quarantine.  So, uh, just forget you ever heard the world leprosy.” James has to school her about quarantines, as he had Anne.


     Next day up on deck the professor is passing the time with James, and asks, “Tell me, does your wife often travel with you?”  “Occasionally,” is as far as James is willing to open up to the stranger.  “My wife used to accompany me to all the diggings.  She was a great helpmate.  God rest her soul.  Only wish she’d lived to share in my triumph.”
     “What triumph was that?” James inquires.  “Well, my discovery of the chamber . . . And not only the chamber itself, but what I found . . . I can only reveal that to the Royal Society.  But you’ll read all about it in the newspapers.”  “So, you’re to become famous, eh?”  But more important to the professor is to be acknowledged by his peers.
     “So, how is your daughter this morning,” James asks.  “She seems to have a bit of a temperature.  Oh, she’s probably caught a chill,” he surmises, but James is visibly concerned.  “Anyway, your wife said she’d look in on her,” the man tells James.  “Did she, by heck?” James gets up in a rush to go talk to Letty.  

     “How long have you had this rash, Emma?” Letty asks the young woman.  “I first noticed it last night,” Emma tells her.  James barges in the little cabin where the professor and his daughter are staying.  He wishes her a cheerful good morning.  “Your father tells me you’re not feeling well.”  “She has rather a high temperature, James, and then there’s this rash,” Letty shows and tells.  James has had a lot of practice as Captain and owner at not causing panic, so he says calmly, “Letty, um, would you come outside, please?”  When she doesn’t move as quickly as he wishes, he adds, “Well . . . now.”
     “Excuse me just a moment, Emma,” Letty waits until they are out in the hall before she lays into him.  “James, how dare you talk to me like that in front of . . .”  “Letty, you don’t seem to rea . . .” James is ready to make her realize.  But the professor comes up and asks, “Well, how is my daughter?”  James asks him to come into the cabin, but doesn’t invite or even allow Letty to join them.
     “Professor, would you mind opening your shirt, please,” James politely orders him.  “Look, Onedin, I know what’s in your mind, but . . .” “Just do as I say,” James tells him forthrightly.  When the man delays, his daughter asks him please.  James doesn’t make him open his shirt very far, nor does he look very far down the man’s back.  But perhaps in practice it has proven to be far enough.  James puts a hand on Dawson’s forehead, “How long have you had this temperature?”  “I’d hardly call it that.  Look, it’s stuffy down here.  That’s why I went up on deck.”
     “I see.  Professor, I hope you don’t mind if I ask you and your daughter to stay in the cabin,” James has had to wear many hats as a captain, one of them being Dr.  “For how long?” his impatient patient asks.  “I don’t know.  At least until the rash disappears,” is the best James can prognosticate.  “But that could be days, cooped up in here.  Look, Onedin, I think you’re being very unreasonable.  Whatever my daughter has, it certainly isn’t leprosy.”
     James takes him to one side, as much as possible in the confined quarters, “No.  There’s no need to frighten her.  All I’m saying is, whatever it is you have got could be contagious,” James speaks to him quietly.  “I want ya to remain in isolation.”  “Yes, I understand,” the man finally agrees.  After James leaves, the professor admits to his daughter, “He’s right, Emma . . . It could be Scarlet Fever, measles . . . anything [anything seems less worse than leprosy to them].  Wouldn’t be fair to pass it on, would it?”

     Letty is very unhappy with James’ decision, “James, you can’t do that!”  “I have to, for the sake of everybody on board this ship.  That cabin door’s gonna be locked, and I’m keepin’ the key.”  “But you’re locking them up like criminals, like animals, and all because of a rash.  It could be anything,” Letty is unwilling to consider that her husband has far more years’ experience than probably many doctors of the time.  If this is 1884, he’s been on the sea for over 24 years, much of it all over the world.  
     “Aye, and it could be one thing in particular,” James tells her.  As with Anne, Baines explains that her husband is right.  He, too, has had a lifetime of experience all over the world.  He was on the Peruvian guano trade when he was 10 years old, and he’s old enough to be James’ father.  
     “Mr. Onedin’s right, ma’am.  Best take no chances.”  That’s not only for the contagion of diseases, but the contagion of superstitious panic among the sailors.  “After all, we do know that they’ve been in the company of lepers.”  In 1884 the bacteria causing leprosy had been known, at least by research, for about 10 years.  But there was still widespread fear and social stigma about the disease, and effective treatments were years away.  People knew something of the horrific symptoms of the disease, and those were very scary.  
     “Fear.  You’re both acting out of blind fear!  Don’t you think that poor girl has been through enough?” Letty argues vehemently, and maybe if she had an advanced degree, had researched it, or lived today, her arguments would be more convincing.  
     James pulls out what little formal medical information captains were given, to show her.  “This is the Ships Captain’s Medical Guide.  Now anything to do with medicine and this is his Bible.  It tells him all sorts of things.  How to set a broken leg, or stitch up a wound, take out a tooth.  [He chuckles.]  Even tells him how to deliver a baby . . . Scurvy, lice . . . But it says damn nowt about diagnosing leprosy.  I know, because I have read this from cover to cover.” He hands it to Letty.
     “All you’re saying is that you don’t know,” and yet surely he knows more than she.  “Well, what am I to do?  Pretend they haven’t been in contact with lepers?  Dammit.  I don’t even know if it’s contagious or not.  That’s how little I know.  And I’m not takin’ any chances!”

     Later on deck, Letty apologizes, “I’m sorry, James, you were right, I was wrong.”  “Master’s always right, even when he’s wrong,” James tells her.  “Don’t tease,” she replies.  “I’m not.  It’s Master under God.  That’s his official description.”  It sounds ridiculous to modern ears, but someone has to be in charge, or there would be chaos.  “Everything is his responsibility,” she finally understands.  He puts an arm around her, “Aye.”  “How long before we reach Liverpool?” Letty asks.  “Eight, ten days.”  She leans against his shoulder. 

     Another day Letty is on deck when Baines warns her, “We’re in for a bit of a blow, ma’am.  You’d be better off below.”  “I’m quite alright, thank you, Capt. Baines.”
     One of the seamen tells another that he’s doing all the work, pulling on the rope of the rigging.  So the other lets go, and the complainer’s hands get caught in the block & tackle.  Baines sees it and calls for the bosun to put the man’s fingers into hot tar.  
     Letty is shocked, “Tar!?  Capt. Baines, he needs a proper dressing on!”  “Mrs. Onedin, will you kindly allow me to run this ship?”  James moves next to Letty and says to her, “Come away, Letty.”  She objects, but he interrupts her abruptly with, “Do as you’re told.”  They both go down below.  “Letty, you really must not interfere with the running of the ship.”
     “I was simply trying to show some compassion,” she defends herself.  “Look, sailors are used to taking knocks,” he tells her.  “James, Capt. Baines told that poor man to put his fingers into boiling tar!  It’s absolutely barbarous.  I would never have believed [it of Capt. Baines].”  
     “Oh, pipe down, and sit down, will you, for a moment?” James tells her.  The honeymoon is long over.  “He said ‘hot tar’, not boiling.  Just warm enough to seal the wound and purify it.  It’s an old remedy, and it works.”  He is interrupted by Croaker.
     “Yes, what do you want?” James answers peevishly.  “I got the food ready for them two.”  “Aye, I’ll be with you in a minute,” he tells the man, then turns to Letty, “Now you just stay there . . . until this blows over.”

     More troubles:  the seaman whose hands were caught in the block and tackle has been feverish for days.  Emma’s fever is not responding well enough, as James has tried everything in the medicine chest.  Croaker overhears the professor saying that James must still believe the girl has leprosy, but he doesn’t hear James say he just doesn’t know.  James has compassion on the 2 locked up in the stifling cabin, and promises to unlock the door so they can stretch their legs when no one’s around. 
     Emma begs her father to get rid of the treasure he’s been hoarding secretly in his bag.  She says she feels its presence.  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he pleads.  “It’s nothing to do with that . . .”

     Letty goes into the crew’s quarters.  “What are you doing here, missus?!” one of the sailors vehemently confronts her, “You’re not wanted here, lady!”  She had come to see if there was anything she could do for the injured man.  James comes in and tells the man to leave it, as he herds her back out the door.  Another of the sailors asks, “Why didn’t you ask Mr. Onedin to look at his hands?”  “Because Jimmy’s looked after me since I was a bairn, that’s why.”  He wants to look after the man himself.

     “Letty, will you get it into your head that the focsle belongs to the men, just as the saloon belongs to us.  Those are their quarters, and they are private,” James lectures her.  “I’m not a child, James.  I understand perfectly now.  But don’t you change the subject.  I was talkin’ about the dreadful conditions they live under.  They’re crammed in like animals.  The place is running with water, the air is foul, there’s hardly any light . . .”  
     James has listened impatiently to her, and at last answers, “Oh, I’ll fit ‘em cabins, shall I?  Build ‘em bathrooms?  Yes, I might even leave ‘em a settee to lounge around in.  ‘Course there won’t be any room for the cargo, but what does that matter?”
     “Oh, now you’re being ridiculous.  All I’m suggesting, is that you provide your men with better living quarters,” she protests.  “Letty, you are poking your nose into something that you do not understand.  I feed ‘em well.  I pay ‘em good wages.  ‘Course, if you want to become the great reformer, why not start with your own factory, eh? . . . Aye, why not?  Just look at the conditions that your women work under before ya start preachin’ to me, huh?!”
     That gives her something to think about.  “Very well, I will . . . Now, if you don’t mind, James, I think I’ll go to the cabin.”  “As you please,” he almost sounds kind, after having got his diatribe off his chest.  
     Baines comes down, “Nasty little squall, while it lasted,” words befitting more than just the weather.  

     Croaker has let out that the 2 passengers might be lepers.  Jimmy’s friend notes that he has a fever, same as the passengers.  Croaker says Jimmy ought to be in quarantine, just as the other 2 are.  The man responsible for Jimmy’s hands says the captain never should have brought them on the ship.  Jimmy’s big friend calls for a deputation to go to Capt. Baines and insist the 2 be cast adrift in the little boat they came in.  None of the other seamen are willing to confront the captain, so Jimmy’s friend and Jimmy’s foe go.  The foe takes a knife.  
     The 2 seamen enter the saloon as James is telling Baines that they’ll have to stop at Falmouth, get the girl to a doctor, despite the imminent quarantine, “Can’t be helped.”
     “I didn’t hear no one tell you to come in,” Capt. Baines challenges the sailors.  “Deputation, Cap’n,” the big man says, a belaying pin in his hand.  When Baines mentions it, he puts it in his pants, says he’ll put it back later.  “Right.  Now speak yer piece.”  “Now, those 2 passengers:  we want them off this ship.”  Capt. Baines folds his arms and says quietly, “Oh, you do, do you?”  “Aye, they’ve got leprosy.”  “Who told you that?” James asks.  “It doesn’t matter.  Now what does matter is my wee pal Jimmy’s got it.”
     “Any sickness in the focsle, and I should have been told,” Capt. Baines emphasizes.  “Damn your rules and regulations, Cap’n.  Now Jimmy’s sick, and we want those 2 off this ship now!” the seaman yells.  “You’re out of line, mister,” Capt. Baines raises his voice as well.  He walks toward the seaman, finger forcefully poking the air until it pokes the man, “Now you just listen to me.”  “No!  You listen,” Jimmy’s pal yells again, “Now if you don’t get those two off this ship, then we damn well will!”  He pulls out the belaying pin to threaten Baines with.  But Baines slugs him first.  He groans and falls.
    The other man pulls out his knife and gets into a fighting stance.  James walks toward him, “I wouldn’t do that if I was you . . . Oh, get ‘im [the grunting man Baines has just slugged] back to the focsle.”  James isn’t afraid to turn his back on the 2 men, who struggle back to the focsle as ordered.  Such is the power James has over men, such is the power with which Capt. Baines keeps his men in line.  They make a good team.
     “I’ll be along to see Jimmy,” Capt. Baines tells the retreating men.  “We’ll put him in a cabin of his own.”  Baines turns to James, “Now we’ll have to put into Falmouth,” Baines accepts, and James bemoans, “And into quarantine.”

     Emma becomes delirious.  Her father finally takes his precious box out, and when he returns, she is resting peacefully.  He touches her forehead and face.  “The fever’s broken,” he tells her with relief.  “Father, I had the strangest dream.”  “I know.”  “You’ve got rid of it, haven’t you?”  He nods and speaks his assent.  “Thank you,” she whispers.
     The deputation returns to the focsle, and Jimmy dies.  His friend, the big man who’d had the belaying pin, holds him to his chest and sobs like a little one.  

     “Well?” James asks Letty and the professor as they come into the saloon.  “Emma’s rash is almost disappeared,” Letty is relieved to say.  “Yes.  It was quite incredible,” the professor is also relieved.  “Unbelievable.  Within minutes of my throwing that casket overboard, Emma’s temperature began to fall.”
     “Professor, what was in this casket?” James has to know.  “Something quite unique.  You see, the casket was the sole content of that chamber I had discovered.  And when Professor Maspero told me that if I attempted to take it out of the country, I would be cursed, well, I simply assumed he was being overly melodramatic.  Now I’m not so sure,” the professor shakes his head.  It makes one wonder if Prof. Maspero had some experience with the feared casket.
     “What was in the casket,” Baines repeats James’ question.  “The mummified head of a small boy.  Possibly a son of Amenhotep.  Probably the child had been murdered.  Who can say?  But the actual state of preservation was quite amazing.  To have been able to present that to the nation would . . .”
     James interrupts him to say, “Professor Dawson, when we dock, I shall ask for a clean bill of Health.”  “But what of that poor, unfortunate sailor who . . .” the professor objects.  “Died of influenza, and that’s what I’ve entered in the log,” Capt. Baines tells him.  “You mean you’ll not even mention leprosy?” Dawson asks.
     James turns round to say, “Oh, if we did that . . . we’d have to mention every disease that it could have been.”  “More sailors die of influenza each year than I’ve had hot dinners, and that’s what I reckon he died of,” Capt. Baines concludes.  It’s not very surprising, considering their exposure to the elements, plenty of long hours, and the less than balanced & fulsome diet.  But then, considering the logs James and other captains have fudged in this series, that statistic isn’t surprising, either.
     “If only I had thrown it overboard earlier, perhaps that would have saved him,” Dawson laments.  “Only if you believe in all that mumbo-jumbo,” James says.  Like the fever brought into the port by the little girl’s guinea pig (S4 E5), such an artifact from such a place may have carried some infectious disease.

     Back in Liverpool, James and Letty ride through an old foggy forest of huge trees, in a carriage with a driver.  “Oh, James, I feel so excited,” Letty smiles to say, and James smiles to hear.  “Calm down,” he tells her gently.  “Our own little villa.  Just for the 2 of us.”
     We see a house through the window of the carriage, and Letty becomes alarmed.  “James, we’re going in the wrong direction, surely.”  “No, we’re going in the right direction.”  (Metaphors for their different visions of life?)  “Are you sure?”  “Aye.”  He smiles slyly.  They drive onto the premises of a country manor Sarah would be proud to own.
     “James, this is the wrong house.”  “No, that’s the right house.”  “Before we left, we bought a small villa.  It can’t have grown.”  James gets a big grin on his face.  “You’ve bought a different house, haven’t you?”  “Aye,” he is delighted to say, and gets out of the carriage.
     The driver helps Letty down from the carriage, and James walks up and opens the front door.  They walk in, and James is so pleased with himself.  But Letty laments, “Oh, James, how could you?”  “Oh, you’ll get to like it, Letty.  I promise you, you will.”  “I liked that little villa.”  “Well . . . well, once you get furniture in here,” he tries to get her to imagine it.  But she goes on about the small villa, “just for the two of us.  There were just 6 rooms.  Comfortable, easy to manage,” she bemoans, as she walks into one of the rooms.
     “Now, we did agree that I . . . I . . . I needed a study.”  “And if you remember, we agreed that one could be built on!”  “Well, this place has already got one.  Saves us the expense [like this huge house isn't more expense].  Here, look.  It’s got a library.  Now the other place didn’t have a library.”  “Library!  You don’t read a book from one year to the next.”  We have seen him reading, but perhaps she is thinking of a different kind of book than he would likely be reading (manuals, charts, and such).  “Well, happen our guests might!”  “Guests?  What guests?”  “Ooo, well, uh, the, um . . . Charlotte, Samuel, the children, the nursemaids.  Sarah likes a good book.”
     “Just how big is this house, James?  How many bedrooms are there?”  He looks around, thinking, counting them up.  “Eh?  Oh, um . . . 12.”  “Twelve!” she says incredulously.  “Some of ‘em are quite small,” he tries to excuse the number.  
     Letty almost runs out, gets into the carriage, as James chases after her.  “Dammit, woman, is there no pleasing ya?”  One can argue whether he was out to please her, or to gratify his own pride at being able to afford/provide her such a place.  Heaven knows his sister has lectured him plenty over the years about providing a big house and servants for his wife.  At last, he is left to join Letty in the carriage.

S7 E2--James is restless at home, Letty wants him to share a life with her on land
     Letty comes to James’ office just as he is berating his clerk, Mr. Dawkins, for an error in the books that amounts to £37.10.  James bemoans that Dawkins doesn’t come up to the standards of his old clerk, Mr. Tuppman, who “used to check everything twice, and once again for luck.”
     “Uh, James, have I called at an inconvenient time?”  “No, no, Letty, come on in.  Mr. Dawkins here is just going.”  “You’ve upset him again,” she charges James.  “More like he’s upset me.”  James kisses the side of her face affectionately, even if only a peck.  It’s the sort of kiss people married for some time and comfortable with each other give.  
     “You know, he’ll never be as good as old Tuppman,” James seats himself at his desk.  “Well, not while you go on treating him like an errand boy, he won’t.”  “Oh . . .” James sighs as he puts his feet up on the side of the desk.  “I should have gone to Belfast with Will [Capt. Baines], you know.”
     “Oh, James, you promised you’d have a spell ashore.”  “Well, I’m ‘ere, aren’t I?  Both feet on dry land.”  “Aye, and hating every minute of it,” she resents, but that’s who she married.  “No, no, no,” he denies it.  “Oh, a couple of weeks at home, and you’re bored already.  With the office, with that house.  I sometimes wonder if you’re bored with me.”  James has made a little telescope with a rolled-up paper he’s looking through, out of boredom.  
     But her last remark catches his attention.  “Nay, Letty.  No, just a bit restless.”  She walks over to him, “Look, James, you’re one of the biggest ship owners in Liverpool.  Why can’t you just relax and, well, enjoy the fruits of your success?”
     “Look, if I was in steam, maybe I could.  But I’m in sail.  I’ve got to fight for every cargo.  I can’t do that behind this here desk,” whether true or an excuse for his restlessness might be debated.

     Then Capt. Baines comes home with his arm in a sling.  James finds it a convenient excuse to sail in his place.  
     As James prepares to leave, Letty is upset.  “Belfast!  Oh James, no!”  “Well, look, it’ll only be for a few days.”  “But there’s 3 rooms yet to furnish.  The men are coming tomorrow with the pattern books and the swatches.  You promised you’d be here so we could choose them together.  We talked about it only yesterday.”  “You don’t want me . . . I’m no good at that sort of thing.  Here, why not ask Sarah?  She’ll jump at the chance of spending my brass.”  Or possibly Charlotte would find it of interest?  
     “Two months ashore, you said.  Get properly settled in the new house, you said.  Your words, James.”  “Well, how can I help it if he is fool enough to go and break his arm?”  “There are plenty of other masters on the beach, and you know it!”
     “Aye, maybe.  But look, I want to look over a couple of ships in Belfast.  All this fuss just for a few days!”  “Oh, you’d fuss soon enough if I let you down.”  “All this about a bit of wallpaper.”  “It’s not just that, James, and, well you know it!” she yells at him.
     “Well, what is it, then?”  She is ready to break into tears, “It’s . . . It’s just that I feel a bit lost without ya these days, that’s all.  And if that annoys you, I’m sorry.”  She’s had him close by, even if busy, for the 2 years while they were sailing, since Charlotte’s marriage.
     Her feelings yet again catch his attention.  “Hey . . .” he walks over to her and says again quietly, “Hey . . .”  He gives her a peck on the lips, then another, and at last they are really kissing.  Her whole tone changes.  “I’d . . . I’d best get your things packed,” she goes to do so, and he is left to consider how such an embrace changed her attitude.  

     James goes to see his sister Elizabeth, who is talking by phone to Dunwoody at the office.  “No peace and quiet for Dunwoody since you bought that thing.”  “Have you called to tell me how to run my business, James?”  “No.  No, I ‘avent.  But talkin’ about business, you know that army contract I offered you.  £500, I think you said.”  “Now, it was you who said £500, James . . . anyway, I’ve handed the whole matter over to Mr. Dunwoody.”  James strides over to her, as she’s been flitting about the room taking care of things.  “Well, I don’t want to talk to him.  Look, this is between you and me.”  “You’ll find him at the Exchange.”
     “Look, I’m just off to Belfast.”  “What?  When you promised Letty you’d remain ashore for 2 months,” Elizabeth is about as outraged as Letty was.  “How did you know?” he asks his sister.  “She told me.  Oh, now I suppose you’ve upset her again.”  
     “No!  Well, she was a bit put out,” he minimizes.  “Look, that’s not what I’ve come to talke about.”  “No, I’m sure it’s not.  You’re always thinking of yourself.  You are James.”  “What are you on about now?” James is peeved.  “Letty.  Can’t you see how unhappy she is?”  “Letty unhappy?  Rubbish.”  “Oh well, perhaps unhappy’s not the right word.  But she’s dissastisfied, unfulfilled.  She needs more in her life than that business.”  “She’s got the house, she’s got me . . .”  “She needs a child, James.”  “No she doesn’t!” James answers stoutly, forthrightly.  “I know she says she doesn’t . . .”  
     “No!” James wanders away around the room.  “We’ve spoken about it.  I said at the time, I wasn’t goin’ to put her through that again.  Anyway, it’s none of your business.”  “Yes it is.  James, I’m your sister . . .” Elizabeth sits next to him, as he has alighted.  But his arms are folded, “Elizabeth, I don’t want to . . . Now look . . .”  “You’re both bottling up your true feelings for one another.”  “I don’t want to talk about it.  It’s not the sort of thing you talk about, even between brother and sister.”
     Elizabeth gently puts her hand on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, James.  I’m just trying to help.”  “Aye.  Well, you say Dunwoody’s at the Exchange?  Well, I best go there, hadn’t I?  Aye, time’s crackin’ on.” he changes the subject, as he is wont to do when he’s uncomfortable.  He gets up and heads for the door.  “Here, give my regards to Daniel,” he chuckles, “always assumin’, of course, that you are still talking to one another.”  Possibly a little dig about her stormy marriage, since she has just been giving him heck over his.
 
    As James and Baines walk the pier on his way to get aboard ship, Capt. Baines is again complaining about being stuck with office work.  James argues that it’s good for him, and pretends he’s making a sacrifice to sail in Capt. Baines’ place.  “D’ya think I wouldn’t rather be home with Letty?”  But Baines is not convinced.

     Sarah comes to help Letty with the decorating decisions.  Letty feels she’s imposing on Sarah, but Sarah loves the opportunity.  As they visit, they mention how little they see of Samuel, Charlotte, and the children.  “Uh, talking of children, have you and James thought any more about . . .” “No,” Letty cuts Sarah off.  “But Letty, it’s [over] 2 years now since you lost the baby.”  “Sarah, I said at the time that I wanted no more children.  I meant it then, and I mean it now.”  
     “It’s just that I always knew that James always wanted a son.”  Such comments might have something to do with Charlotte always feeling that her father resented her being a girl.  But Letty insists, “James and I are both agreed on this point, Sarah.”
     “But how on earth can you manage . . .” Sarah suddenly realizes, “Oh, I’ve touched on a delicate nerve.  I’m sorry.”  It’s funny that Sarah would ask such a question, since she and Robert managed to have only one child in all the years they were married.  She was the one who insisted that it was all in God’s hands.

S7 E3—Letty & James disagree on improvements for workers; they avoid intimacy to avoid pregnancy; he thinks only of work at home, only of her when away
     True to her word on their voyage in the Mediterranean (S7 E1), Letty has decided to improve the conditions for her workforce.  “Are you sure you want all this work done, Mrs. Onedin?” asks the contractor she’s talking to about it.  “I wouldn’t be wasting your time on a whim, Mr. Copeland.”
     “I can understand ya protectin’ the buildin’ itself, but with this canteen, enlargin’ winders, plumbin’ in a stove . . . I mean it don’t come cheap, missus . . . then there’s the roof.  Slates need re-nailin’.  Gutterin’ and downpipes . . . Well, you’ll get away with them for a couple a more years.”
     “I want you to do the lot,” Letty doesn’t go halfway.  “Well, lucky lads, that’s all I can say,” the man says.  “Women . . .” Letty corrects.  “Women?  Well it’s plain daft,” he scoffs, but is quick to say, “I mean, I don’t want to do meself out of a job, but . . .”  “Then stop behaving as if you do,” Letty suggests sensibly.
     “Aye.  Well, it’s um, £300 so far, excludin’ cookin’ range.  Still, it’s your money, Mrs. Onedin.”  “Aye, it is, Mr. Copeland.  “And like as not you’ll be passin’ it on to th’ customers same as I do.”
     “There’s just one thing you’re forgettin’, ma’am . . . Will they appreciate it?  Now take your husband's line o’ work, for example.  Conditions on ‘is ships won’t change b’cause the men who sail ‘em are all thievin’ rascals.  If ‘e was to give ‘em feather beds and clean linen, they’d steal it as soon as look at it.”  No doubt he is voicing the general opinion about sailors . . . true about some, but not all.  “Now your women . . .”  “Are not thievin’ rascals . . .”

     At home Letty is sitting at her desk as James has been reading the newspaper, sitting on a settee in the same room.  “You saw Copeland, then?” he asks.  “Yes.  He sends his regards.”  “Well, he would, wouldn’t he?  Wants as much business as he can get.”  “He was just being civil, James.”
    “Did he say when he’d start?”  “The end of the month.”  “Well, so long as ya know what you’re doin’.  Ya know my opinion.”  “Yes, that it’s a waste of money,” she continues working on her books, a photo of James before her.
     James looks around the settee toward her, “Ya know ya could sell that business.  Ya know Samuel’s after it.”  She turns round to look at him, “Is he?”  “Aye.  It’s the one link in ‘is chain that’s missing.  He’s got me to bring ‘im back cotton, got the mill to produce the cloth, he’s got ‘is department store to sell it.  All he needs now is your sweatshop to make the stuff up.”
     “It is not a sweatshop,” Letty objects to the term and what it represents.  “No.  Be more like a rest ‘ome by the time you’re finished.”  Letty ignores that, but wonders, “Was he serious?”  “Aye.  He’s a good lad, is Samuel.  Got ‘is fingers into everything.”  “In other words a true Onedin,” she is a bit sarcastic, though she’s always liked Samuel herself, and knows he’s a good person.  “Nowt wrong with Samuel,” James says.
     The clock chimes, and James folds his paper, gets up, looks at his watch, and says, “Oh, ‘eck, is that the time? . . . Aye.  I promised Elizabeth I’d meet ‘er in the office.  Look, um, I’ll be a bit late tonight.  Got a lot o’ work to do.”  He gives her a peck on her temple.
     “So you won’t be needing any supper?”  “No.  No-no . . . Tell Mrs. Gibson to leave me out sommat cold, will ya?  Don’t wait up for me.”  Apparently he has learned to eat cold food since he told Caroline he didn’t like it (S3 E9).
     “James . . .”  “What?”  “Are you staying out late on purpose?”  He walks back over to her, “How d’ya mean?”  “You know full well what I mean,” she gets up to face him.  “If I didn’t love ya so much . . . well, it isn’t easy for me, either, James.”  “Well, I know . . . I know, uh . . . Look, I’ll, uh . . . we’ll talk about it when I get back, eh?” says James, ever the procrastinator for talking about things that involve relationships.  He leaves.
     Later when James returns, Letty is asleep.  He gently shakes her shoulder as the cock crows, but the room is still dark, “Letty . . . Letty . . . Oh, no.  No need to sit up.”  “What time is it?”  “Five o’clock  in the morning.”  “Time to say goodbye,” she touches his face.  “Must ya go just yet?”  “Letty, when I get back, there will be more time for you and the house.  We will talk about things.  And I love ya.”  She has heard such things for many years.   
     “So Capt. Blake didn’t turn up, then?  Nothing could please you more.”  “Well, I’ll not deny I’m lookin’ forward to it.”  “Take care,” she says gently as he goes out the bedroom door.  

     Upon James’ return, Letty comes to the quay in a carriage.  Capt. Baines asks her to give him a message, “Tell ‘im I’m down Paddy West’s retrievin’ 7 advances.  Now he’ll know what I mean.”
     In the carriage, James tells her, “When I’m at home, I spend most of my time working.  When I’m away, I spend most of my time thinking’ of you.”  Their looks embrace, and she replies, “What a lovely thing to say.”  He draws in a little breath, “You make that sound as though I never compliment you.”  They touch lips, and she asks, “This Paddy West’s?”  “It is,” he affirms but keeps looking at her.  “Hmm.  Looks like a rough neck of the woods,” she comments.
     “Hmm, aye, ya best stay here.  I’ll not be gone long.”  James goes in to see Capt. Baines win the arm wrestle for the advances Paddy West owes the company.  “Thank ya, Will.  I think back to sea for you, where you keep out of mischief.”  Capt. Baines laughs in delight at that news.  

S7 E4—Letty & James:  different perspectives on Charlotte and Samuel
     James & Letty are visiting Elizabeth, who is separated from her husband Daniel.  
     “You keeping busy, Elizabeth?” Letty asks.  “Quite, Letty, Yes.”  “I wish Charlotte was busier,” Letty laments, “Idle hands make the devil’s work easy.  She called this morning.  She seems dissatisfied with her life.”
     “Yes, she is,” Elizabeth agrees.  “You’ve seen ‘er, Elizabeth?” James inquires.  “The other day,” she answers as she pours coffee for Letty and herself, and James smokes one of Daniel’s finest cigars (Elizabeth informs him).  “I promised not to say anything, but well, she came to see me about William [who was killed in an accident (S7 E2), not having been allowed to see Charlotte or their son].  She seems to feel . . . oh, I don’t know, to blame in some way . . . I told her not to distress herself.  She has other responsibilities.”  But does she really have such responsibilities, when she has employees to take care of her children, cook, clean . . . She doesn’t have charitable work & committees, as Sarah has had.
     “Quite right,” James agrees, and both women look at the man who for so many years avoided parental duties.  “Doesn’t she concern you, James?  Your own daughter?  She is dissatisfied, bored by her life.”  Letty can appreciate that.  
     “She’s made ‘er bed,” he has no sympathy, probably because she’s mourning William, for whom James had no respect, and has not been a good wife to Samuel, whom he does respect.  “Oh, nonsense.  You ought to tell her, James.  She’s a simple duty to her children and to Samuel,” Letty lectures, but surely he’s hardly the one to be able to talk to her effectively.  
     “It’s their business, not ours,” and no doubt it was a relief for him when Samuel took over the responsibility for her.  He had hope for her then.  “Oh, well, it’s perfectly clear that you don’t intend to lift a finger, so it seems that Elizabeth and I must.”
     “Well, I shan’t be here to lift one, will I?  I’ll be in South Africa within the month,” he’s glad enough to be gone.  “Very well,” Letty looks to Elizabeth seated next to her.  “Then Elizabeth and I will manage without you.”
     “Well, I’m sorry, Letty, but I’m off to Port Nolloth [South Africa] to do some business on a copper concession.  And to deliver the cargo that Mr. Dunwoody so cleverly negotiated,” Elizabeth piques James, because she got the contract he was counting on.  “I’m very pleased with him, James.”  He glances back at her, but lets the remark go.
     “So.  I must manage Charlotte on my own.”  For many years Letty did essentially raise Charlotte on her own, and they were very close.  But so much has happened since then, perhaps they are somewhat alienated.  Charlotte is in an unhappy marriage, feeling guilty over William and his child, Letty has been gone for much of the time since Charlotte’s marriage . . . Letty feared Charlotte’s marriage to Samuel would be a disaster, and perhaps Charlotte had some knowledge of that . . . Quite possible with Sarah as the disapproving mother-in-law (not the silent type).
     “Look, leave Charlotte to Samuel,” James advises, ever the one to caution that when you try to help people, you often make things worse.  “He knows how to manage her.”  
     But he obviously doesn’t, or Charlotte refuses to (maybe is still too immature to) really try to make their marriage work.  Charlotte may look a lot like her mother, but she is not like her mother Anne in anything else.  Not that it’s her fault.  She wasn’t raised by her mother.  Letty is a good person, but Anne would surely have expected more from her, spoiled her less.  Perhaps even involved Charlotte in hers and James' partnership, so that she might have had more interactions, a better relationship, with her father.  If Anne had lived to raise her daughter, her father could not blame her for the death of her mother.  
     It's possible, of course (and most likely, since it's the job of writers to come up with conflicts to dramatize for the audience), that other issues would have come up, such as, James might have resented her for diverting Anne's attention from him (especially if she came to  feel she needed to stay at home with their child, though Anne didn't sail on every voyage with James), Charlotte was still not a son (and James wasn't too great with relating to females, less even than with males), she might still have been taken advantage of by someone, and so forth.  But I still think Charlotte would have been a different, a less lost, person, had she been raised by her mother.

     James finds out that the contract he had so wanted, but his sister Elizabeth got, turns out to be running guns to South Africa.  He comes home calling Letty, “I want my sea chest and new boots.”  He finds Burgess having tea with Letty.  “What the devil are you doing here . . . I thought you were supposed to be getting that steamer of yours ready for sea.”  Burgess makes excuses, and James doesn’t have time for dealing with his partner in a steamer.
     “Letty, I sail in an hour.”  “But James, I thought tomorrow was the earliest,” she protests.  “Aye, well, Elizabeth’s in trouble.  I’ll have to stop ‘er.”  “What’s the matter?” Letty worries about her friend and sister-in-law.  He doesn’t have time to explain.  “Letty, don’t forget my 2 reefers,” he calls out to her as she’s gone to gather his things.  James has a heated discussion with Burgess between calling for Letty to get him packed.  “Letty, is that chest of mine ready yet?

     After James has sailed, Letty goes to talk to her workers about the changes that will be happening.
     “Did we get you right, missus?” Mrs. McGahy asks, “A penny an hour extra?”  “Aren’t you worth it . . .?”  “Of course we’re worth it.  I don’t get it, that’s all.  There’s a catch somewhere.”  “Look, you work 65 hours a week for 15 shillings [Some years ago Samuel complained that his mother was paying her seamstresses 15 shillings a week in her sweatshop (S5 E7); (S5 E9) Sarah said her seamstresses worked 60 hours for 15 shillings a week, of course Letty mentions machines--probably machine tenders got paid less], ya see nothing of yer families, you’re worn out.  I’m reducing the hours, that’s all.”  “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”  “50 hours a week, and a meal provided.  Well, I’ve already talked to the builders, they say they can turn this storeroom into a decent eating place.  Put a cooking range in, tables, seats . . . oh, yes, and a better light.”  
     How could they have time to cook on an old cookstove and work as well?  Would the fewer hours give them time for that?  But weren't the fewer hours intended for them to have more family time?  It would seem Letty would need to hire a cook for them, at least part time, or their earning power would diminish.
     “What for?” the women mistrust changes.  “Well, you’ve complained in the past that you’ve not enough light over the machines.  I’ll provide it.”  “Look, missus, what’s all this about?”  “Look, I wanted to tell you before the rumors start.  I’m thinking of selling.  Now whoever buys this place will be bound to honor any arrangements we may come to.  It’ll be drawn up.  They’ll have to honor it . . .”
     “But they might put in their own workers and cut out the old hands.  It’s usual.  Better the devil you know.”  Letty puts a reassuring hand on the worried woman’s shoulder, “I’ll get a guarantee that none of you will be thrown out of work.”  Letty walks back over to the table where half a dozen or so women sit working, all but one, who is asleep.
     “Now listen, all of you.  You’ve all worked well for me, so if you need any help, advice, well, you know where I am.  Look, I’m just trying to make sure that you’re not all working ‘til you’re too tired to stay awake, like Betsy there.”  The women laugh.  “She’s used to lying down, her.  It’s the night work, missus.  She does too much of it, isn’t that right, Betsy?  It’s the night work makes you sleepy?”
     Betsy awakens and sits up, “It’s a damn sight better pay than here, and better company.  I get paid for what you do for nowt.”  The women are all set a-cackling.

     Samuel goes to see Letty.  “Samuel, how pleasant!”  She comes over with open arms and he greets her with a kiss.  “I trust I’m not disturbing you.”  “Oh, I think I can find time for you.  Just.”  The twinkle in her eyes complements her bright smile.  
     “I wondered if you’d like to come to dinner this week,” his voice is businesslike.  “Must be a lonely prospect with Uncle James away.  Charlotte would enjoy the company, she’s, uh . . . she’s rather low, I think,” he says in a rather low voice.  
     “May I sit down?”  “Oh, yes, of course.  Would you like some tea or coffee?”  “Ah, if you wouldn’t mind, I think I’d rather like a rum,” he says as he settles, and chuckles, “Just to keep out the cold.”
     “How are your schemes going?” he asks her in a friendly way.  They’ve always liked each other.  “Schemes?  What schemes, Samuel,” she is a little cautious.  “Oh, come now, Aunt Letty, it’s the talk of the Chamber of Commerce.  More money for your women.  There’ve been some long faces at the Chamber, I can assure you,” he looks at her with his business eyes.
     “Well, if people listen to rumors, Samuel, that’s hardly my business.  If people paid better, they’d get better work and happier workers,” she reasons, without being a statistician or economist.  “Have you told that to Uncle James?” he’s bemused.  “Oh, I’ve tried.”  “Did he listen?”  “Only to suggest that I put my house in order before I start to criticize him.  So, I’ve taken his advice.  I’m doin’ what I can for my women.”
     “And possibly causing trouble for other employers, Aunt Letty.  There have been some harsh words said, by some factory owners.  They’re concerned,” he gives her to know in a gentle way.  It hasn’t been so many years ago that he was disgusted at his mother’s sweatshop (S5 E7). 
     “’Do unto others as you would have done unto you,’ that’s all,” she quotes the Bible.  “But will you show a profit?”  “Enough.”  “Really?”  “Come to the point, Samuel,” Letty invites, though she knows what it is, as James had mentioned it to her.
     “The flockworks.  The whole business.  I’ll take it off your hands.  Oh, it’s a serious offer.  I mentioned it to Uncle James.”  Letty looks pensive.  “I’ll give you a fair price for it.”  One has to hope that his idea of a fair price is different than James’ usual negotiations.  

     When Letty comes for dinner at Samuel & Charlotte’s they talk over the proposed business deal.
     “Right then.  A price,” Samuel has a business ledger before him on the desk in the drawing room.  Letty sits across from him, very engaged.  Charlotte sits in a chair by the fireplace looking on.  
     “Let’s not haggle about it.  9000, and the promise that you stay out of the business for 5 years,” he offers.  “10,000, and we’ll not haggle,” she counters.  “Hmm,” he gives it some thought.
     “You two have talked about nothing but business all through dinner,” Charlotte complains.  Some years earlier she had complained about William being so engrossed with business, just like the rest of the family.  “I’m going to bed,” she announces as she gets up.  
     “Oh, we won’t be long, Charlotte,” Letty the now businesswoman tells her.  “I’m sorry,” Charlotte apologizes, “You must forgive me,” she says to Letty.  To her husband she says, “Samuel, I’m going up.”  “Very well, Charlotte,” he glances at her briefly and speaks in a gentle voice.  Charlotte then turns to Letty again, “You see?  Goodnight, Letty.”  “Goodnight, dear,” Letty returns.  The young wife leaves.
     Samuel exudes a sigh.  He’s been doing some figuring.  “Very well, then, 10,000.  Done.”  He and Letty shake, and he says, “Good.”  
     “Charlotte’s gone to bed, Samuel,” Letty broaches.  “Yes, I know.  She said,” he glances at Letty and smiles, but returns to his books.  
     “She’s had enough of our business talk,” Letty mentions.  “Yes . . . it, uh . . . bores her, I’m afraid,” he acknowledges.
     “Look, Samuel, I don’t want to pry, but don’t you think she’s . . . Well, she’s very young, very highly strung, she needs to enjoy life . . . more than dull dinners with businessmen.”  “Yes, I am aware of Charlotte’s weaknesses, Aunt Letty,” he says sadly.  Considering how he chafed under his father’s insistence that he must keep his nose to the business grindstone, surely he can remember.
     How young is Charlotte?  At the beginning of Season 7, General Gordon is in Khartoum (1884).  As I figure Charlotte to have been born about 1872 (about a year after “Bloody Week” in 1871), that would make Charlotte only 13 or so.  But she was said to be 9 in S4 E4, and S5 E1 is said to be at least 5 years after that, so she would’ve been 14-15 when she got pregnant.  Samuel married her before she gave birth, and Sarah mentions that it’s been 2 years since Letty lost her child (S7 E2), which was born near the same timeframe (Letty says it’s been 2 years since Charlotte married in S7 E1).  Obviously, there are some dating problems in the series.  But it’s believable that Charlotte is only less than 20 years old.  If the ages were consistent, Samuel would be more like 30, which makes some sense for his being such a successful businessman and member of the Chamber oF Commerce, but supposedly William turned 21 (and inherited Frazers) only after Charlotte was pregnant, and Samuel was born 7 months before William.  The storyline doesn’t depict William being that much older than Charlotte when he turned 21 (she would have only been 11).  It’s a conundrum for a person who likes historical and storyline consistency.
     It’s unfortunate that Samuel thinks of Charlotte's desire for some enjoyment in life in terms of a weakness.  Certainly she has weaknesses, faults, but being young and wanting to enjoy life, if not excessive, surely isn’t a weakness.  He has tried to be a good husband, and it's hard to be one's best self while living in a dysfunctional marriage, though perhaps he could find more balance for her sake.  But just as she was infatuated with William, without really knowing him, Samuel was infatuated with Charlotte, without really understanding her.  And they were all too young (in the story) to even know themselves.  Yet it’s not only the young who are attracted to someone without real clarity about how their marriage might work out, or their own unrealized expectations.  Letty and James have their own challenges in that.
     To be fair, Samuel has had to mature through his experiences in life in a way that Charlotte has not:  the expectations of his parents (especially those of his father--"Robert Onedin and Son"), the expectations for a middle class man in his society, his inheritance and the responsibility that thrust upon him when he wasn’t that old, the responsibility as a husband and father to provide for his family financially (and certainly Charlotte would expect a certain standard of living).  Also, to his credit, Samuel still tries.  He comes home calling for his young (rather spoiled) wife, “Charlotte . . . Charlotte . . . I managed to get tickets for Mr. Irving [Sir Henry Irving, famous Victorian actor].”  He finds a note she left for him, “Taken carriage, gone for a drive.”

S7 E5--James & Letty:  brief goodbye
     Samuel pours a drink for himself and asks Letty, “When does Uncle James leave?”  “Oof, on the next tide.  This time the Azores.”  “Hmm.  He’s not one to swallow the anchor [stay long on land].”  “Stubborn, like his daughter.”  Letty had wanted James to build their life together on land, but he wants a life on the sea.  Charlotte has never gone to sea, as far as we know, but Letty sees in her the same desire for independence, self-determination.  
     Letty rides with James in the carriage to the quay.  “Well, ah . . . see you within the month, eh?” James says by way of bidding her goodbye.  “Don’t forget you’re travelling as the owner, not the master.  So don’t you cross with Will Baines, now.  His friendship is worth more than a load of lemons [the cargo they are carrying from the Azores],” she reminds him gently.  Anne would have told him the same.  “Aye.  Well, don’t wait for me,” he says as he exits the carriage.  “Take care,” she says kindly.  He looks around, pats her gloved hand on the carriage door window, and promises, “I will, I will.”  
(In the storyline they are avoiding intimacy to avoid pregnancy, but is there a difference among the cast?)
     While he’s gone, Letty deals with Samuel on business, and advises him on dealing with Charlotte, she counsels giving her some money, to give her some independence and responsibility.  Unfortunately, he unwisely overcompensates, and Burgess takes advantage of her dysfunctional relationship with her father, her unhappy marriage, and her naïveté, to con her into investing in his pecuniary troubles, and to help him divest from his partnership with James he finds so distasteful. 

S7 E6—Letty finds joy and purpose in children
     Letty instructs the housekeeper as she puts on her gloves to go out, “The master docked this morning, so we should be back directly . . . will you see if the carriage is waiting, Mrs. Gibson?”  But when she goes to do so, she calls from the doorway, “Madam . . . Mrs. Onedin . . .”  “What now?” Letty asks.
     There on the stoop Mrs. Gibson points to a basket of baby.  “Oh, my goodness,” Letty exclaims.  She takes the note left with the child as her servant picks up the basket, “It’s a fine homecoming for the master.”  The 2 women look at one another . . .
     It isn’t long before Letty is smiling, lovingly carrying the little one around the house.  “Are you sure you want to use this?” Mrs. Gibson asks, holding a blanket Letty has made.  Letty does.  She sends her housekeeper to answer the doorbell as she sits and coos at the baby, “Oh, that’s a good girl . . .”
     Elizabeth comes in, “What’s this?”  “Oh, Elizabeth.  Trouble,” Letty hands her the note and tells Mrs. Gibson to take the basket and all that came with the baby to burn it.  “A foundling?” Elizabeth asks as one does while taking in surprising information.  “Just look at her.  Yet from her teeth, I’d say she’s all of 12 months.” Letty is loving this little bundle of trouble.
     Elizabeth reads the note:  Madam, this is Lizzy.  Her mam went off for her fortune in London, and I cannot manage no more.  Please help.  Obligings, Betsy.
     “Betsy?” Elizabeth queries.  “One of my factory girls as was,” Letty answers.  “And now?”  “Indulging in a more profitable trade,” Letty says charitably.  “Well, what will you do?” Elizabeth asks.  “Well, I don’t know,” Letty admits, “How about your orphanage?”  “Oh, well, that depends on the director, I’m afraid . . . Mr. Symonds [S6 E6] has now handed over to a Mr. Archibald Jonas.  I’ll see that you meet him at the ball.”
     “What ball?” Letty asks.  “Oh, at my house this Saturday,” Elizabeth informs.  “I had no idea,” Letty comments.  “No more had I, until this morning.  It’s the Chamber of Commerce annual ball.  Samuel’s on the committee . . . Sarah’s house would have suited, but of course she’s still away in Bath . . . And so, please dear sweet Aunt Elizabeth, come to the rescue.  Can we use your house?” Elizabeth explains.
     “Oh, well, that was exceedingly handsome of you, Elizabeth,” Letty compliments.  “Well, it’s there, fully big enough.  Haven’t had the carpets up, though, since Daniel . . .” Elizabeth leaves the sentence unfinished.  “Anyway, we . . . we [Frazers] expect a substantial return of good will from our illustrious merchants.  Will James be here?  He always looks so well in a tails-suit.”
     Letty and Elizabeth chat about Sarah, who has been in Bath, and was to move in with Elizabeth.  We hear James calling as he returns home, “Letty . . .” He walks in the door with his seabag, “Wondered why you weren’t at the docks to meet me.”  He kisses her, and she quickly answers, “Oh, well, there is a reason.”  He greets Elizabeth, who returns it.  “Did you have a good trip?” Elizabeth inquires.  He chuckles, “Aye, picked myself up a fruit contract.”  “Oh, more profitable than guns, I hope,” Elizabeth teases him about his failed attempt to make money on the guns she was tricked into running (S7 E4).
     “Here, enough of that, now,” he says to his sister, then thanks Mrs. Gibson for a cup of tea.  He notices the baby in the rocking crib. “Hello, what’s this?” he chuckles.  “Our Annie [his granddaughter]?  Hey . . . she’s losin’ weight,” he notices as the 2 women exchange worried looks.   He bends to look closer, “That’s not . . . that’s not our . . .” He looks to Letty for an explanation, and she hands him the note, saying, “She’s the reason I didn’t meet you.”  “Betsy?  Lass has left factory to go whoring? . . . Listen, our Annie uses that cot [rocking cradle] when she’s here!”
     “The bedding can be washed,” Letty hastens to say, and Elizabeth hastens to say she must be going.  “You don’t know what’s . . . That child could be dirty . . .”  “Letty’s going to try and place the child at St. George’s [orphanage], James,” Elizabeth tries to intervene.  “Oh, fine.  Here, why not take ‘er with you now?” James is anxious to suggest.
     “No, no.  Acceptance depends on the director of the orphanage, not the governors [of which Elizabeth is one] . . . Remember Saturday, Letty . . . James, too . . . Easy now, James,” Elizabeth quickly makes her exit.  
     “Look, what’s this about Saturday?” James is getting all sorts of surprises.
     “Chamber of Commerce Ball,” Letty lets him know as she picks up his seabag.  “Hmm . . . Huh?  Nowt to do with Elizabeth,” James reasons.  “To be held at her house, as a favor to Samuel,” Letty tells him.  “Oh ho!  I suppose she wants us there, then,” James challenges.
     “It’s a long time since we danced together, James,” Letty comments.  “Aye, and little wonder, the way trade’s been looking recently,” James returns.  “Well, not so bad we shouldn’t enjoy ourselves once in a while, surely,” Letty supposes.  “No?  25, 30 ships laid idle in Mersy for lack of cargos,” he emphasizes with gestures and takes his seabag from her.
     “Well, none of yours,” she points out.  “No, none going to be neither.  Not going to miss a contract for sake of Chamber of Commerce Ball,” he states his case.  “James, you’re not off again,” Letty says.  “Aye, tomorrow.”  He notes her downcast demeanor, and tries to soften the blow, “Well I shall be back within the week . . . Look, I’m chasin’ this clay contract for Imperial Staffs,” he smiles with delight.
     “Last month fruit, now clay . . .” Letty’s complaints are interrupted by baby noises, that remind James to say, “And out.  As soon as may be.”  He points at the child.  “She’s not the only one, you know,” Letty looks down at the little one.  “Hmm?  What does that mean?” James asks as he’s busy with his seaman’s stuff.  “Scores of waifs around Sailortown.  Ragged, half-starved, ganged up like stray dogs, homeless . . .” Letty speaks slowly, sadly.
     “How do you know so much about it?” James confronts her.  “It’s true.  True for anyone with eyes to see,” Letty has seen.  “Here.  Here, you’ve not been down there on your own, have you?” James is frantic to ask.  But Letty says no, “Question is, what’s to be done about it?”  “Well ask people at your precious ball,” he lays it on the shoulders of the important people of the city.  “I’m asking you,” she gives him a chance to consider.
     “Look, all I know is . . .” he starts loudly, but she shushes him for the sake of the baby.  He lowers his voice, “All I know is that she’s out by the time I get back.  Else I’ll put her out meself.” 

     At the Chamber Ball, Dunwoody dances with Letty, then has opportunity to introduce her to Mr. Archibald Jonas, Director of St. George’s Orphanage.  He invites her to dance.  He tells her that “acceptance of the child would be subject to the usual inspection . . . might I suggest a call at your house? [Tomorrow] is Sunday.  Might we say Monday, p.m.? . . . Now then, as to the child’s antecedents.  Its origins, ma’am . . .”
     At the ball, Charlotte drinks too much, quarrels with Samuel, and leaves.  Capt. Baines comes and asks Mr. Dunwoody to help him find Samuel.  When Capt. Baines sees Letty he excuses himself for interrupting her interview with Jonas, “It’s an urgent matter, ma’am.  Urgent and confidential.”  Letty follows him into the hall.  She comes back in to pull Samuel away from asking his Lordship Marston to make the royal toast.  “Samuel, something urgent you must hear from Capt. Baines,” she tells him quietly.
     “It’s a very urgent matter concerning your wife,” Capt. Baines quietly tells Samuel in the hall.  He has a carriage awaiting.  Elizabeth asks Letty about what’s happening, and she is about to tell her when Marston interrupts and takes Elizabeth back into the ball.  

     Capt. Baines and Samuel go back to Samuel’s home.  “Merely business.  She simply invested some money in steam . . . Charlotte’s probably in bed,” Samuel tells Baines.  He calls for Alice the maid, and finds out that Charlotte took the carriage.  Baines asks, “Where to?  Come on, speak up, girl.”  Alice lowers her head and says, “Fancy it was to the docks, sir.”  

     The inebriated Charlotte has gone to seek Burgess, planning to sail to the Mediterranean with him.  He tries to dissuade her, mentioning her husband.  She scoffs, “Samuel has never been a real husband to me.  It was a marriage of convenience.”  He even mentions her children.  “Aunt Sarah and Letty will love and cherish them,” she argues.  She has taken the cash on hand and the Onedin shares, thinks that she and Burgess are “two of a kind”, and begs him to take her.  At last, he agrees.  Samuel gets drunk, doesn’t want anyone to go after her.  Elizabeth thinks the children should be with her and Sarah.  Samuel insists that they will stay with him, just as they have been cared for, by a nanny and servants. 

     Mr. Jonas goes to see Letty as arranged.  “I’m obliged to you, Mr. Jonas.  My husband would not have been best pleased to have found her still here,” Letty tells him.  “Well then let us hope there is no impediment, ma’am.  Now then, as to antecedents,” he returns to his questioning.
     “A foundling, left at my door,” she tells him.  “Now not infrequently there is a note,” he notes.  She goes looking for it.  “Betsy?” he asks.  “A former employee,” she answers.  “Now?”  “I’m afraid fallen in circumstances.”  “The mam off for her fortune in London . . . Well, there’s really only one fortune I know that would attract a Liverpool woman down there, I fear, ma’am.”  “What of it, Mr. Jonas,” Letty wants to know.
     “Regrettably, at St. Geroge’s, we have a definite rule . . . excluding such offspring,” Jonas tells her.  “Hard on the likes of little Lizzy, isn’t it?” Letty posits.  “I’m afraid with so many contenders and so few vacancies . . .” he leaves the conclusion to be drawn.  “Case of the sins of the mother being visited on the child,” Letty comments.  “Bound to exercise priorities, ma’am,” Jonas excuses.
     “And of course, being a respectable Christian institution, you would never compromise your moral standing, not for a child born of sinful union,” Letty gets more adamant.  “Perhaps you missed what our good Lord had to say about fallen women, Mr. Jonas,” Letty hands him a big Bible with a hard, accusing look.
     But he claims that, “Exclusion has nothing whatsoever to do with moral constraints.”  “Then what?” she begs to know.  “Fifty children, ma’am . . . The well-being of 50 children to be considered.  It’s a heavy responsibility.”
     “Are you suggesting that . . .” Letty begins with incredulity. “Contagion . . . spreading unseen from child to child,” he further claims.  “D’ya fancy that I’d risk such a thing?  Now that child is free of infection . . . In the opinion of Dr. Porton, one of the finest, if not the most costly, practitioner in Liverpool, yes,” Letty retrieves some papers.  “Nevertheless, where there is a rule . . .” he objects.  But Letty pulls some weighty strings.  “Was a rule, Mr. Jonas.  It no longer applies.  Not to this little girl, any road.  Not if you want to look for one jot more patronage from either Lady Fogarty or Mrs. Sarah Onedin.”  She hands him Dr. Porton’s certificate of health.  She has prepared for the objections she surmised would come.
     “Now, I’ll thank you to take it and that poor child, and we’ll have no more said about rules or exclusions,” Letty says fiercely, trusting that the child will face no ill-treatment or persecution.  Perhaps she will make it her business to keep track of the little one’s future.  Mr. Jonas gives the certificate and nods the OK to the nurse who has been attentive to the baby.

     Samuel comes to see Letty, and she offers him tea.  “I’d as soon take a whiskey, thank you,” he says.  “By the looks of you, you’d best do without,” she notes, but she tells him, “Go on [help yourself].  Whiskey won’t bring her back.”  “I told you, I don’t want her back,” he has had enough.  “Aye, so you did.  Well, nor will it heal the wounds,” but she looks at him with compassion.  “What news from the bank?  Has she taken it all?”  “Aye, near enough,” he answers.  “The Onedin shares as well,” he adds.
     “Fool!” Letty almost whispers.  “Oh, aye.  I’ll not deny that, Aunt Letty.  I drove her to it,” he takes the blame on himself.  “Oh, I’m talking about Charlotte.  Running off like that, looking for excitement, a new life,” she bemoans Charlotte’s poor choice.  “Happen he’ll give her more than I ever did,” Samuel sits with his guilt.  “Oh, now you listen to me, Samuel.  The only thing that that man loves Charlotte for is her money.”  Letty has met the man and can surmise both from what she knows of him herself, and no doubt what her husband has said about him.
     “Aye, maybe.  Oh, as if all this wasn’t enough,” he is despondent.  “Oh, is there something else?” Letty encourages him to tell.  “Problems with the bank,” he reveals.  Letty gets up and walks across the room.  “How much?”  “Four thousand [would] see me right.  1% a month fair?” he asks as she writes out a check.  “I’ll want no interest, Samuel,” she assures him.  “Oh, no. Let’s be sensible,” he protests.  “Just a promise you will honor all the conditions on the sale of that factory.  Including the 50 hour week for my women.”  He agrees to it.  (According to the FRED blog graph, the average weekly hours in the UK didn’t get down to 50 until the early 1900s.)  She hands him the check.
     “It’ll come right.  You’ll see,” she assures him.  But is she prescient, or choosing optimism for his sake?
     “Oh, there is another favor you could do for me,” he tells her.  “I’m listening,” she says with a sip of tea.  He gets up, sets his drink down, goes to the door of the parlor and calls for the nanny.  “Aunt Elizabeth keeps on at me to let her and mother look after the children . . . And I have to visit a mill in Halifax a couple of days away.” 
     A pretty young woman brings in 2 cute little tikes, a toddler boy and a baby girl.  Letty is melted.  “I’d as soon you had them as her, if you can manage it.”  “Oh, you reckon you’ll get ‘em back easier from me, do ya?” Letty is all smiles as she takes the baby from the nanny.  “Never,” she laughs teasingly.  
 
    When James returns through the parlor door with his seabag, he calls for Letty.  She calls back from another room.  Baby calls from the crib.  “Well I’ll be damned!” James exclaims.  He picks up the cradle from it’s frame just as Letty comes in.
     “Oh James, stop!” Letty cries out.  “Letty, I thought I told you . . .”  “Oh no, don’t you even know . . .”  “I meant what I said!” The two of them talk over the top of each other.  “James!” she laughs.  “Damn me, come on, it’s no laughing matter.  Here.  I can hardly hear meself think with this noise.”  Letty continues to laugh, “Don’t you even know your own granddaughter?”  He looks more closely at the crying infant.  “Our Annie?  Damn me.”  

     Later in the evening James and Letty sit side by side on the settee of the parlor.  “Outfoxed that rogue Summers . . .” James reports.  “So that’s it?  You got the clay contract?” Letty listens.  “Sign with Imperial Staffs tomorrow noon.”  “Good.  And you’re feeling better?  Here, let me get you another cup of tea.”  He smiles at her as she gets up to do so.
     “What happened about that child?  The orphanage take ‘er?” he asks.  “Eventually.  They were very set against it,” she tells him.  “Hmm.  Well, whore’s child.  Thought they’d object,” he says matter of factly.
     “It’s wicked, James.  The poor mites aren’t at fault.  Why should they suffer for how they’ve come into the world?”  “Hmm.  Well, that’s the way of it,” he takes for granted, without making any connection to his own.  Of course, though both Elizabeth and Charlotte bore illegitimate children, they were not selling themselves for sex, nor indiscriminate and prolific with their partners.  And, thankfully, a couple good and kind men stepped up to legitimize their children, albeit Albert didn’t know that’s what he was doing at first, yet he grew to love William and care for him as his own.
     “I thought I might do something about it,” Letty begins to formulate.  “Hmm?” James takes another sip of tea.
     “Now promise you’ll hear me out,” she says gently.  He takes in a breath, and says gently, “Well, I’m listening, aren’t I?”  “Well, since I sold the factory, I’ve got a tidy sum of money lying idle,” she knows how to frame her argument.  “Aye.  And money must be made to work,” James repeats his motto.  “Now you put it into summat.”  
     “Well, that’s just what I intend doing.  James, I want to start a home,” she begins.  “What?” his brows furrow.  “A home for waifs and strays,” she says.  “Hmm?”  “Even for the children of fallen women,” she adds.  “Fallen women?  Sluts and whores, you mean?  Here, look, you start lookin’ after their brats and you’ll only encourage ‘em,” he gives his perspective on the matter.
     “Oh, that’s rubbish, James, and well you know it,” she gives her perspective on the matter . . . from the opposite point of view.  “It is not rubbish, Letty.  There’s plenty of orphanages around,” he supposes.  “Not enough.  And, anyway, this won’t be just an orphanage, it’ll be more of a home,” Letty tells her intention.
     He chuckles.  “I hope you’re not thinkin’ of starting one ‘ere.”  “Course not.  Buy a separate house.  Eight or nine bedrooms,” she opens her thoughts.  “Thought it all out, haven’t you?” he recognizes.  “Aye.  Well, you’re always telling me I’m forever gabbing on about the wrongs in the world . . .”  “Aye, well you are,” he affirms.  
     “So now I’m gonna do something about it,” she looks at him, “Well?”  “Well you don’t expect my support or approval,” he tells her, more than asks.  “Oh, that’s a pity, but the fact is, I don’t need either,” she tells him.  “Oh.  You’re getting very single-minded these days,” he comments.  “By choice . . . Anyway, it’ll keep me out of your hair,” she looks at him again.  “I’d rather do it with your approval, James.”  
     “Well, it is your money.  Ya usually get your way,” is essentially his way of giving his tacit approval.  She recognizes that.  “James Onedin, I do love you.”  
     (He sits stiff & straight, they don’t kiss or embrace.  Another clue it might be more about the cast/crew than the story.)

S7 E7—James’ ill health and ill-temper are tempered by Letty’s tantrum
     Dr. Porton has come to examine James at home, “From now on, it’s milk and fish for you, sir.”  “No, thank you very much,” James tells him.  
     “James . . .” Letty remonstrates with her stubborn husband.  “There’s nowt wrong with me,” James insists.  “Except for an ulcer in your stomach, which will only get worse, unless you live more calmly and worry less,” the doctor prognosticates.  “Indigestion.  That’s what it is,” James diagnoses.  “I know the cure for that.  First ship out, and I’ll be on ‘er,” James puts on his jacket. The doctor walks over to him, “What you need is rest, man.”
     “Look, I can’t afford to be idle.  Business isn’t that good,” says the well-dressed man living in a big country house.  To be fair, where predators sense weakness, they attack.  But Letty must be in a position to know, and she says, “It’s thriving, James, and you know it.  He’s just moved his office into new and bigger premises.”
     “You could even less afford to be bed-ridden, sir.  Think on that,” the doctor advises, as James had advised Anne to care for herself or the sick she was caring for would have no one to nurse them (S1 E13).  “I shall call again early next week,” the doctor says as he turns to leave.  “Well, do so, by all means.  Course I can’t guarantee to be here,” James gives away his intentions.  The doctor turns back to James, “If that ulcer were to happen to burst while you were aboard ship, Mr. Onedin, I couldn’t guarantee you’d ever come home again, either.”  Letty shows the doctor out, James pours himself a drink.
     Letty comes back to the drawing room door, sees what James is doing, and tells him, “Doctor Porton said no spirits.”  “Not to me, he didn’t,” James turns to tell her.  Letty closes the door to the room, saying, “Well he did to me.”  “Well then you can do the abstaining,” James says with a sassy attitude.
     “Why do you seek his advice when you have no intention of following it?” Letty asks, and one might remind him that he’d told Anne “To pay a man for professional advice and then not take it, that’s poor business (S2 E13).”  Of course, that would be a rather cruel reminder of a loss he seems almost to have gotten over.
     “I didn’t.  It was you insisted he come here,” he points out.  “Well, because, as he has just confirmed, there’s something plainly the matter with you,” Letty almost verges on hysteria.  “Ah,” James says dismissively, “Nothing that a good sea breeze won’t put right.”  “James, ya can’t mean it,” Letty is upset, but she calms herself enough to sit next to him and say, “Now listen.  It is time to stop all this gallavanting around the world.  Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’re not some young adventurer out to make his first fortune,” she misunderstands how much sailing and the adventure are in his blood.
     “Aye, and I’m not about to lose the one I’ve made, either,” he gets up with his drink in hand, goes over to another chair, and opens a newspaper.  Letty sighs, “I was talking to Dr. Porton about my plan . . .”  But James rudely interrupts her before he even hears what she’s going to say, “Dr. Porton!  Dr. Porton!  Let’s not hear any more about . . .”  The doorbell and Letty herself interrupt James, “. . . about my plans for a children’s home.”  James answers humbly, “Oh.”  “He’s agreed to advise me,” Letty finishes her thought.
     In a more reasonable voice James replies, “Oh.  Let’s hope he’s of more use to you than he was to me.”
     Sarah comes enthusiastically through the door, followed by Elizabeth.  Letty greets her warmly, “Sarah, you’re home!”  Letty invites the 2 women in, and while she and Sarah begin a conversation, James accuses Elizabeth of coming to gloat over getting the “Clay Contract” he thought he’d won, and gets worked up.  Letty tries to calm him with probably the wrong tactic, “For pity’s sake, James, remember what Dr. Porton said.”  
     “Oh, if I hear any more “Dr. Porton”, I’ll . . .” James starts to threaten, and Sarah, alarmed, asks, “Dr. Porton?  What did he say?”  “Nothing!” James shouts.  “Just that James is not well, because he just overexcites himself and he worries too much,” Letty says a bit animated herself.  “And little wonder, when me partner runs off with me daughter, and me own sister runs off with all me contracts!”
     “Oh, you’re insufferable, James Onedin, I wish I had taken it!” Elizabeth faces him.  “Insufferable, am I?  Ho, ho, that’s nowt to what I could . . .”  he has to stop in the tracks he’s barreling down.  “I beg your pardon?” he says calmly now.  “I said, the contract was offered to me, but I declined it . . . at the end of the day, I decided it would be barely profitable, unless I could be guaranteed return cargos, which wasn’t the case, so I turned it down.”  James humbly asks, “When?”  “Two days ago.”  James strides to the door and exits to go see his clerk, who’d told him his sister had got the contract instead of himself.
     The women continue happily visiting at tea, Sarah telling of her fun time in Bath.  Then Sarah asks, “Letty, would you and James be free to come to tea on Sunday?”  “As far as I know, although I doubt you’ll be glad of James’ company, unless his mood and manners improve somewhat.”  After James’ explosive behavior, there’s no hiding, defending, or excusing what they all witnessed.
     “Oh.  Yes, well, it’s most important he be civil.  But I do so want you both to come,” Sarah pleads.  “Sarah has invited somebody special,” Elizabeth reveals.  “Who?” Letty asks.  “Well, I’ve tried to wheedle it out of her, but she simply refuses to say.”  “It’s just a friend I met in Bath,” Sarah minimizes the acquaintance, but then negates that impression by saying, “Someone I want you most all particularly to meet.”  Elizabeth and Letty exchange looks, and Letty promises, “James will be on his very best behavior.”

    Next day, as James is again reading his newspaper at home, he insists adamantly, “I’m not eating milk and fish!”  “It is for your own sake, James.  You’ll thank us for it when you find the pain’s no longer there,” Letty insists equally adamant, but her tones are not as tough, “though knowin’ you, you probably won’t, for if you can be as rude as you were to Elizabeth and Sarah yesterday . . .”
     “Oh, they know me well enough,” he excuses himself.   She turns on him, “That’s no excuse!”  She stands and walks over behind him on the settee.  “Anyway, I hope you’re gonna be in a better mood on Sunday.  Sarah has a surprise for us.  There’s someone she wants us all to meet, and if that means what I think it does, we don’t want you making an exhibition of yourself,” she says as she walks around to the front of him.  
     “Letty, if there was a ducking stool handy, I’d put you in it,” he refers to what they did to those accused of being witches 2 or 3 centuries previous.  She starts to rush out the door, but then slams it without going through.  She moderates her tone carefully at first but it gets away from her with emotion, “James Onedin, if I’ve become a nag-wife, it’s because . . . you are the most stubborn, the most unreasonable man I’ve ever met.  You’re pig-headed, you’re selfish, ya trample on people’s feelings, and ya completely take me for granted.  Oh, but all that wouldn’t matter if only we could share in something again, like we used to.  Because otherwise, I’m going to go on getting more and more jealous and resentful, and not over some other woman, but over your damned ships!”
     James sits looking at her speechless, wide-eyed in surprise.  She walks to the other side of the room, “Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?”  It’s quite unlike the peacemaker Letty we first came to know.  
     “Oh, now look . . . Look, if I seem unreasonable, it’s . . .” he puts his paper down and gets up, “it’s ‘cause I’ve got Charlotte on me mind.”  He’s back to excuse making, though no doubt the Burgess & Charlotte run-away did make him angry as just about nothing else, as well as his displeasure with his clerk, and business stresses.  But certainly it’s not fair of him to take those out on others, especially Letty.
     “I know, and I’m sorry,” Letty ever apologizes.  “No!  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t complain . . .” her tirade has at least got through to him, “. . . least of all to you, Letty Gaunt.”  She turns to look at him in wonder, “I’d almost forgotten I was ever called that.”  It’s amazing how once such major changes happen in life, such as marriage, we forget our lives, even our identities before, despite how long those previous lives may have been compared to the present state.
     “Well, I hadn’t [forgotten].  It puts me in mind you didn’t have to take me,” he walks over to say to her gently.  “I should be grateful.”  “James . . .” she begins to excuse him again.  “No, from now on, I shall reform,” and he turns his walk around symbolizing his life.  “Milk and fish let it be,” he declares.  “Anything you say.  On Sunday . . . I shall be as proper as you’ve ever seen me.”  Though he stands stiff and proper, she softens, walks over and gently kisses him.  He stands there straight and stiff, as if to show his unbending resolve.

     On Sunday, Sarah introduces, “Letty, James, I would like you to meet Capt. Arbuthnot Dampier.”  True to his word, James behaves very polite and civilly, showing considerable interest in Sarah’s new friend.  He greets Elizabeth, who treats him cooly, then goes to greet his nephew Samuel.  Samuel offers him a drink, but James tells him, “No, its, uh, not allowed.”  Noticing Samuel indulging at little too freely, and perhaps having been informed by others in the family, he tells his nephew, “That won’t bring ’er back, you know.”  “Thank God,” Samuel answers.  “Getting groggified won’t help, either,” James advises.  Samuel is not just unhappy over Charlotte’s choices, he’s unhappy about his mother’s choice to encourage a suitor that doesn’t suit him.
     Capt. Dampier invites all to come aboard his steam yacht the next Saturday.  Sarah, of course, is thrilled at the idea.  James says, “Well, if that’s what everybody else wants . . .”  Letty responds with gentle sarcasm, “Oh, we wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, James.”

     After James and Letty get home, he is well aware, “That’s why she invited ‘im ‘ome, for us to meet ‘im.  She wants all objections settled before she says owt.”  “Do you . . . object?” Letty asks.  James paces a bit before saying, “Samuel does.”  “Oh, poor Samuel.  Yes, well I can quite see why ‘e might,” Letty sympathizes.  “He’s a sight too damn sorry for himself, that lad.  Thought ‘e ‘ad more backbone.”  This from the man who for so many years so deeply mourned his own loss, that is, felt sorry for himself.
     “Well, it’s your daughter that brought him so much unhappiness,” Letty doesn’t mention that she was the girl’s principle caregiver for a good many years.  “Aye, and I’ll get ‘er back for ‘im,” James promises, more for his own sake than Samuel’s.  “Has it ever occurred to you that it might not solve anything?” Letty asks him to consider.  “Well, what else should I do then, eh?”  
     If Charlotte were older, perhaps nothing.  But Charlotte is likely still a teenager, even with 2 children . . . one probably born when she might have been 15 or so, the other perhaps 2 years later.  She’s no less a teen runaway, though she’s married.
     But Letty considers Capt. Dampier “a very pleasant man.”  “Aye, well, least he’s got an estate.  Can’t be after ‘er money.  That’s all that worried me.”

     The next Saturday, on Dampier’s yacht, goes similar to the first meeting, except that Sarah isn’t hanging on Dampier’s arm and every word.  James and Dampier are engaged in yacht talk and showing.  Samuel is drinking a lot, and resentful.  Letty gets after him, “Just because your own happiness has been spoilt doesn’t mean your mother mustn’t be happy.  Or are you so selfish that’s what you want?  And don’t you think you’ve had enough of that [alcohol]? . . . Well, James said I shouldn’t feel sorry for you, and today I’ve stopped.”  Letty goes to James to ask him to talk to Samuel.  Dampier thinks the problem is Pilgrim, Sarah’s spiritualist, who has discouraged her from getting involved with Dampier.

     Both Dampier and James go warn Pilgrim off, so Sarah plans to marry the captain.  Her sisters-in-law are so happy for her.  But then James in his business dealings finds out that Dampier doesn’t actually have an estate, and that though he does care for Sarah, he was in fact attracted to her fortune.  James, as head of the family, carefully confronts Dampier.  When Dampier admits his ruse, James tells him, “I don’t blame you.  I think you would have cared for her, looked after her.  But, you see, I can’t let it go on.”  He and Elizabeth have each made out a check to buy the man off.  Though he doesn’t like to accept them, he does.  “You take them, and your yacht, a long, long way away,” James tells him and leaves the room.  Dampier is left to admit the facts to Sarah, who doesn’t want to believe anything ill of him, but to his credit, he sticks to the truth.  Not that he could have done anything else without being found out, but there are worse men who would have tried.

S7 E8--Letty attempts to found a children’s home, James helps her behind the scenes, without her knowing
     Letty has come to see a possible site for her children’s home.  It’s been uncared for for years, it appears.  It’s dirty and needs a great deal of work to make it liveable.  Dr. Porton has come with her.  The agent is heard talking with him about it in the other room:  “Of course I would agree that the servants’ quarters aren’t extensive, but you will be surprised how economical on staff such a residence can be [In other words, there’s no room for a large staff, thus saving money, by his conception].  One good woman and 2 girls, and the place will seem to run itself, I do assure you.”  Just like a real estate agent.
     Dr. Porton walks over to Letty, “I must warn you, ma’am, the place will need money spending on it.  Replumbing, at the very least.”  The agent comes over to insert, “Oh, but sir, the modest price does, of course, reflect that we recognize that some work may be desirable.”  “I am not sure that Mrs. Onedin would consider the price all that modest, particularly for a mere leasehold.”  “But sir, do consider the desirability of the neighborhood.”
     “Oh, I like it.  I do,” Letty admits with the agent right next to her, “I like it best of everything we’ve looked at so far.”  “Ideal as a family residence, no doubt,” Porton cautions.  “But that’s exactly the kind of home I want the children to have.  Not some huge, soulless institution,” Letty lets on to her dream.  “So long as you’re sure they won’t be cramped,” Porton points out.  “Well, there are 6 bedrooms,” Letty thinks that should be enough, perhaps at least to start.
     At that, the agent steps forward with some concern, “Well, ma’am, how many children do you have?”  “None, yet,” Letty answers mysteriously, which offers a bit of humor for the audience, “but I don’t envisage more than 12 or 15.”  As the agent’s eyes widen, Dr. Porton clarifies for him, “Mrs. Onedin is to run a home for children.”

     But 2 men come to Letty with their own concerns about her plans.  “As a result of things we have heard, you understand, uh, we thought it prudent to seek an interview simply in order to ascertain the truth.”
     “Well, you’d better tell me what you’ve heard,” Letty thinks it wise to start there.  “That you intend to turn the house into a home for the children of, uh . . . of loose women,” one of the men attempts to put some delicacy to the description.  She admits, “That’s right.”  Then the other man takes his turn with objections, “I knew it.  Damn it, ma’am, it won’t do.”  “What’s it to do with you?” Letty wants to know.
     “We, and the . . . and the others on whose behalf we speak will be your neighbors there, so surely you do see the cause of our concern.”  “No.”  “We don’t relish the prospect of our neighborhood being invaded by hoards of those kind of women.”  “It won’t be!” Letty assures them.  “But how can you guarantee that, ma’am?”  
     “But it’s not a question of . . .” Letty starts to explain, but is interrupted by, “You mean they won’t come?  Who’ll bring their brats then?  Do you mean they won’t visit?”  “The occasional visit, that’s all,” Letty envisions, whether naively or not.  
     “Think of our wives and our daughters, ma’am,” the more politic man asks.  “How may they walk abroad freely and without fear, knowing that this is the sort of woman they may accidentally meet?”  “There would be no more risk of that than if they were going shopping or walking in the park,” Letty argues.  “But this is on our own doorstep, Mrs. Onedin.”  “And I promise you there will be no disorderliness, no nuisance, no . . . “
     “If one of those women gets herself with child, the best thing she can do is throw it into the Mersey,” the less tactful of the two men suggests.  Letty looks at him with incredulity.  One wonders how she would react to a woman nowdays getting an abortion instead.  
     “If any woman gets herself with child, Mr. Barber, some man is responsible!  Perhaps you’re just afraid that one of the mothers might recognize you,” she accuses without any real reason other than frustration at his attitude.  Certainly it was not unknown for a man to get a servant with child.  “How dare you!”  “And how dare you come into my house and try to bully me!”  The more temperate tempered man intervenes in the fomenting argument, “Mrs. Onedin objects to our intrusion here.  Very well.  But ma’am, we object to your proposed intrusion in our lives, too.”
     “And I do not agree that there will be any,” Letty insists.  “I had so hoped to avoid further unpleasantness,” the more diplomatic man ends the conversation.

     The two men go to see James at his office, where he’s drinking a glass of milk and smoking a cigar at his desk.  “I run my business, and me wife runs hers,” he tells the men.  “Ho ho, come come, Onedin.  You really mean to imply that you have no influence over your wife, sir?”  “I didn’t say that,” he states steadily as he looks at them straight in the eyes.
     “Then surely at least there must be some financial constraints you might apply,” the man suggests.  James leans forward to say, “Well, you see, it’s her money she’s using.”  “A woman should do as her husband tells her.  You could demand that she gives up the whole crackbrained scheme,” the less tactful man says what he thinks.  “Suppose I could,” James says calmly.  “And will you?” the more tactful man asks.  “No,” James answers in a word.
     “You mean you’re prepared to condone your wife’s scheme, regardless of the consequences?” the first man implies.  “Whether I do or whether I don’t is my business.  But I’ll tell you this, gentlemen, I don’t take kindly to anybody telling me what my wife shall or shall not do.  Now, uh, good day to you,” James gets up to indicate they should get up as well.

     Elizabeth has promised to transport a case of special port for her friend Marston to arrive by the 20th, but a complication arises.  She comes to James for a favor.  This Marston and James came to be at odds in the previous episode.  James and Elizabeth don’t find a satisfactory bargain in the matter, and she leaves.

     Back at the prospective house, Letty and Dr. Porton are still discussing what would need to be done.  “In view of the large amount of washing there will be, I think you should consider building on a proper wash house at the back here, for I doubt the old copper would prove adequate on its own,” Dr. Porton points out as Letty takes notes.
     “You put me to shame, Dr. Porton.  It hadn’t occurred,” Letty admires his foresight.  “Oh, if you and Mr. Onedin had a . . . well, that is to say, if you and Mr. Onedin had been blessed with children, no doubt you would have anticipated me,” he is kind to say.  Remember, he was her attending physician through her pregnancy.  “Well, soon I shall have more than I know what to do with, and I hope I’ll learn.”  The two of them share a chuckle.
       “Hello, Mrs. Onedin,” the agent calls from another room.  He comes in accompanied by one of the former men objecting to her scheme.  “You must forgive me, ma’am, but it appears I was somewhat precipitous in allowing you the key.  I fear I must ask for it back and for you both to leave.  I am instructed that the sale just cannot proceed.”
     “Instructed, sir?  By whom?” the good doctor asks.  “Lord Hawkmore, no less,” the agent answers.  “What is he to do with anything?” Letty inquires.  “He owns the freehold to this house,” the objecting neighbor informs her, “as indeed he does the whole neighborhood.”  “But we’re not trying to buy the freehold,” Letty says.  “Ah, but he does have the power to obstruct the sale of any leasehold on properties he owns,” the agent lets her know.  “Should he consider a particular sale . . . undesirable,” the neighbor adds.  
     Letty looks straight at the man to say, “I see.  Well, when you toast your victory, I hope you’ll always remember at whose expense it was won.  Children . . . little children, who can’t help how they come into this world, or who their parents are,” Letty walks out and Dr. Porton dangles, then lays down the keys on the filthy table.

     Later, Letty brings coffee on a tray for herself and James into the parlor.  He tries to console her with, “Look, Letty, if he has the right to say who shall buy those houses and who shan’t . . .”  “He has, I’ve checked,” Letty laments.  “Well, there’s little point carrying on fighting then.  The sooner you start lookin’ for another house, the better,” James tells her what his strategy might be, though he has been known to pursue a place he wanted when it looked impossible, with obstacle after obstacle in the way (S1 E4).
     “Have you any idea how many houses I’ve looked at since I started?  Besides, suppose I did find somewhere else just as good, who’s to say that all this won’t happen again?  No, I shall write to Lord Hawkmore.  He must be told the truth,” Letty plans.  “Won’t do no good,” James predicts.  “Well, then I shall go and see him.  I must do something.  Anyway, I thought being an Onedin meant one never gave in . . . at least that’s what you’ve always told me.”

     Elizabeth comes to see James again, having renewed her promise to Marston to get the special bottles of port to Liverpool to give to his father for his birthday on the 20th.  This time she has a convincing reason for James to go retrieve the bottles for her.  She’s received news that Burgess’ “Black Pearl” has been docked for repairs where she wants James to go.  He agrees to do her the favor in order to get to Burgess.  At the same time he cautions Elizabeth about getting too involved with Marston.  She’s a married woman, and her husband is in London, seemingly to stay.  “Is it safe?” her brother asks her.  She has, after all, vowed to keep herself only for her husband.  Though some people choose to be dishonest, should that excuse others from being honest?  It’s a dubious defense.  

     Letty works on some stitchery at home as we hear James’ voice in the other room, “Aye, well, let’s not debate it, doctor.”  James comes in buttoning his vest with a grin on his face, followed by  Dr. Porton.  
     “Oh, no, tell him, doctor,” Letty tries to invoke, “Surely he can’t be ready to sail yet.”  “It is not an easy judgment,” the doctor defends.  “You’ve prodded and poked me hard enough,” James asserts.  “It is sooner than I would honestly recommend, but you’re adamant there’s been no more pain.”  “I have been saying that for the past 2 weeks.”  “So if it is genuinely important for you to go . . .”  “Thank you doctor.”
     “Why is it so important?” Letty asks her husband.  “Well, for more reasons than I can tell ya now,” perhaps in part since he probably expects that she’ll object, and in part because he has a surprise that he doesn’t want her to know about.  He hands her a letter he has just sealed and asks her to give it to his clerk Dawkins.  She notes that “It’s addressed to Viscount Marston.”  “Aye.  And tell him that when he gets a cable from me, to give that to Marston personally.”
     “James, what are you up to?” Letty asks.  “I just want to do someone a favor,” James answers mysteriously, such that a skeptic might doubt.  “In fact, this trip, if everything goes well, we’ll be doing just about everyone a favor,” James is pleased as he hands Letty a full glass of milk.  
     On the voyage Capt. Baines comments to the recent landlubber James, “I can tell from your face how much you’ve missed it.”  James is all smiles.  “You look like someone who’s just been released from prison.”
     Capt. Baines pours himself a drink below deck, “You allowed?” he asks James.  “You’re the doctor on board this ship, Captain.”  Capt. Baines gives him a glass.  “I’m not sure why I should be glad to have you breathing down my neck again, but I suppose I’d better say it:  welcome back.”  “Aye, you’d better ‘ad.”
     James asks Baines, “How long do you reckon it’ll take us to get there?”  “Oh, we’ll be back long before the 20th, don’t you worry,” Baines answers.  “That’s not what I asked,” James wants the answer to the right question.  “Well, if this weather holds, six days . . . seven . . .” Baines estimates.  “Make it 5?”  “Oh, wine won’t go off just for the sake of a day.”  “I want to make sure I get there in time to pick up a passenger,” James explains.  “Someone important, is it?”  “My daughter.”

     After James has sailed, Dr. Porton reads a letter to Letty:  Dear madam, I hope you will believe that I understand the sincerity of your good intentions, but you in turn must understand that my own responsibilities allow me little discretion in this matter.  [The home would be] Inappropriately placed.  Concern for my tenants’ peace of mind.  Must with regret reaffirm my earlier decision.  Hawkmore.
     “It came this morning,” Letty sits and says stoically.  “Rather as I feared it would be,” the good doctor tries to offer some solace.  Letty sighs, “I had hoped for better.  D’ya think if I were to go and see him?”  “I’m afraid this is one battle we must reconcile ourselves to losing.”  “Oh . . . that’s just what James said,” Letty lets out a big breath.  “I do believe that one of the reasons he was so keen to go on this trip is that he wouldn’t have to concern himself over all this!” she quietly lashes out.  “Just when I need all the help I can get, he decides . . .” but as she turns and is reminded that the doctor is there, she breaks off.
     Marston, visiting Elizabeth, tells her, “I received this morning a letter from your brother, delivered personally by his chief clerk Dawkins.  I should like to read it to you.  ‘Dear Marston, knowing how much you value a certain case of port wine, I should be obliged, if by whatever means necessary, you would persuade Lord Hawkmore, who is, as I have discovered, a friend of yours, to sell to my wife the lease on a property she wishes to buy.  If by the time that we dock, this has not been accomplished, I greatly fear scenes reminiscent of the Boston Tea Party.  I’m sure Elizabeth will explain.  Yours, Onedin.’
     “How could he?” Elizabeth fumes, “Oh, how could he?”
     Marston goes to visit Letty.  “To what do I owe this honor?” Letty asks.  “I understand from Lady Fogarty, ma’am, that you have plans to open a home for children . . .”

     When James returns to Liverpool (after some twists and turns of the plot), Letty runs to greet him with a hug.  “Hey . . . Now that’s what I call a welcome home!”  “Oh, James, such news!  I’ve been longing to tell you . . .” she pulls him over to the settee.  “I’m to buy that house after all.  Lord Hawkmore has changed his mind.”  “Has ‘e by ‘eck?” James pretends ignorance.  “Well, I don’t know why, except I’ve got a suspicion it’s something to do with that Viscount Marston.  Well, he called to see me one day, and all he wanted to talk about was my children’s home.”  One might have thought Elizabeth would have told her, but she must've had her reasons.
     “Another rich man tryin’ to buy himself a seat in heaven,” James purposely misleads her.  “Oh, that’s not fair, James.  I liked him.  And if it is him I’m indebted to, well I hope you’ll be nicer to him in future.”  “Well, I will, if he’ll let me,” James claims.  “Eh, would you like to hear my news?” amazingly he let her tell hers first.  “I’m sorry.  Babbling on . . .” Letty apologizes yet again.
     “Well, was it a successful trip?” she asks.  “I’ve ‘ad word about the ‘Black Pearl’,” he says in almost a conspiratorial whisper.  “I see,” she responds without enthusiasm.  “With any luck, it won’t be long now before we have Charlotte back where she belongs.”

S7 E9—Letty has remodeled a home for children, hoping it will be a model for other homes
     Letty brings James to see how she has renovated the house she’s bought as a home for children.  “This is the kitchen and refectory.”  There’s a table with 5 chairs on each side, and large stove with gleaming copper cookware hanging above and around it.  “D’ya like what I’ve done, James?”  He looks around.  “Here.  Every one of them rooms had a carpet on floor.  It’s not an orphanage, it’s more like a hotel!”  “I want this to be a model for the children’s homes in the future.  I’m glad you approve.”
     “Oh, I didn’t say I approve.  As for being a model, I don’t see anybody following your lead, unless they’ve got more money than good sense.”
     “Oh, James, the children that come here will only ever have known squalor and filth.  Would you deny them a bit of comfort?”  “Comfort?  Huh!  More like luxury.  I can’t see any lads wanting to go to sea after stayin’ in a place like this.”  Of course, the sea is James’ focus in life.  And, it was through hard work, struggle, years on end that he attained his success.  Those lean years provided important lessons in life.
     “I’m not running it for your benefit, James Onedin.  These children will want something better out of life.”  “Aye, they’ll want to start halfway up tree.  Here now, listen Letty.  You cut out all the fun in the house, put lime on the floor, straw mattresses for ‘em to sleep on, and, uh, you’ll have two homes for the price of one.”  One could almost take his perspective seriously, until he outlines his idea thus.  Perhaps it's a bit of hyperbole, or he isn't as serious about it as he sounds.  We'd like to believe so.
     “James, I intend running this home my way.”  “Oh, hope you got the brass to do it.”  “I could always do with a bit more,” she admits.  “Lookin’ for a donation, hmm?” he asks.  “I’m not particular on whose door I knock,” she answers with good humor.  “Very well, James walks across the room, “50 guineas.”  “James!  You’re not serious . . .”  “Aye, I’ve had a bit of luck.  Yeah, some time back I invested 50 guineas in this fellow who wanted to go gold-mining in the Transvaal (S7 E4).  Well, tother day he sent me a draft for 5000.” 
     “5000 guineas?!” Letty reacts loudly.  “Aye, not a bad return, is it?” he is amused.  She turns, “And you had the gall to offer me a miserly 50?”  He looks at her from where he’s been inspecting the sink and all of the kitchen, “Miserly?”  “With a windfall like that, what else would you call it?”  “Well if I was in your shoes, lass, I’d call it a handsome donation,” he walks over to tell her, “I doubt I shall get the same return on this 50 guineas as I got on the last one.”
     “No, because you can’t balance the lives of children in a profit-and-loss account,” she literally points out to him with a finger jabbing at his chest.  She goes out, he scoffs.

S7 E10—Letty the moral compass
     Mrs. Gibson brings a woman dressed in a low-necked dress of red and fluff to see Letty.  Letty greets her enthusiastically, “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting Mrs. Jenkins.”  Letty comes quickly to her with arm outstretched.
     “Miss Jenkins, but Nelly will do,” the woman amends as they shake hands.  Letty dismisses her housekeeper, “Thank you Mrs. Gibson.”  The woman leaves with a disapproving look.  Letty offers Nelly a seat.  
     “Well, I expect you’ve come to inquire about your daughter,” Letty has a case file she’s looking at.  “Well, little Emily is a very bright child.  And though she’s only been at the home for less than a month, she seems to have settled down very well.”
     “Oh, that’s nice.  I’m glad she weren’t no trouble.  Now, I want to take ‘er out.”
     Letty is almost without words.  “Oh, well . . . well, I’m afraid it’s not quite as simple as that, Miss Jenkins.”  “I told ya, call me Nelly.  Listen, I don’t see no difficulty.  I put ‘er in, I take ‘er out.  I mean, I’m ‘er legal mother.  I’ve got a paper to prove it.”
     “Yes, but if you remember, you also signed a paper relinquishing any parental rights until Emily came of age, or until we felt that your way of life had changed for the better.”
     Nelly stands, “Well, of course it’s changed for the better.  That’s why I’m ‘ere.  Listen, I’m not walking the streets no more, I’m bein’ kept in style.  I’ve got a real smart gent that’s took a fancy to me . . . “
     “Yes, well that’s not really the change that we had in mind, Nelly,” Letty lets her know.  “Oh, you mean my still bein’ on the game?  Well I don’t ‘ave much choice, do I?  It’s that or tuppence an hour in a sweat shop,” Nelly has weighed her options.  But Letty tells her, “There are other alternatives . . .”
     “Oh, yeah.  Oh, God.  Me 'ead’s coming off.  You don’t ‘appen to ‘ave a drop of spirits in the ‘ouse, do ya?”  “Um, yes,” Letty gets up to get her something.  “Then I’ll ‘ave a noggin o’ mother’s ruin [gin], please, dear.”
     “Are you not well?” Letty asks.  “'ad a bit of a party last night.  My Lenny’s good to me.  None better.  When it comes to booze, ‘e don’t know when to stop.”  This brings Letty to a stop, and she walks over to Nelly, “Then I am sure, Nelly, you must see that we cannot possibly release Emily into your custody.”
     “No, I don’t’ see nothin’ of the sort,” Nelly is incredulous.  She’s my kid and I’m entitled.”  “I’m sorry,” Letty puts up a solid wall between this mother and her child.  
     “All right, I’ll buy ‘er back.  ‘ow much?” Nelly looks in her purse.  “It’s not a question of money,” Letty is now incredulous.  “You mean it’s not enough?  Well, there’s plenty more where that come from.  My Lenny’s a very generous-'earted man.  What’s more, ‘e loves kids.  He’s got 3 of ‘is own.”
     Letty puts a hand to her head, as she tries to think how to make this woman understand.  “Nelly, tell me one thing.  Is there any chance of you regularizing this union?”  “Regularize? . . . No, I should think not!  My Lenny’s a family man with responsibilities!”
     “Well then I’m afraid I can hold out no hope.  Emily must remain with us.  Well, you must see that it’s in the child’s best interests.”  “I don’t see no such thing!  I got comfortable circumstances, and she’ll be treated like a little princess.”  It doesn’t apparently occur to Nelly that being treated like a little princess could be grooming her to take her mother’s place.  “Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do.  If I fall on 'ard times again, I’ll bring ‘er right back.  That’s a promise!”
     “I’m afraid we don’t run the home in that way, Nelly.  Our first and only consideration is the moral welfare of the children in our charge.”  “Moral welfare?  You wait ‘til you ‘ave a kid of your own before ya talk to me of moral welfare.  If I don’t’ get my kid back, there’ll be trouble.  That I can promise you,” Nelly is upset.  Letty rings the bell for a servant.  
     “I’m not impressed by threats, real or imagined,” Letty tells the woman.  “There’s nothin’ imagined about this one.  I’ll get my kid back one way or another.”
     “Good day to you Miss Jenkins,” Letty says and Mrs. Gibson comes as called.  “I’ll show you out,” she tells the red-frocked woman, who leaves in a huff, “No thanks, I’ll show meself out.”

     When James gets word that Burgess has stolen back his ship, Letty realizes that young Tom is aboard her.  James & Baines assure her that he’s a smart kid, able to take care of himself.  “James you’re surely not thinking of going after him?” Letty challenges.  “Course I am,” James says as a matter of course.  “Well before you know it, you’ll be spending half your life chasing that man.  Leave it be . . . You’ve got Charlotte back.  Oh, for heaven’s sake, let him have the ship and let the matter rest,” Letty charges him.
     “Ya think I’m goin’ to allow a man like Seth Burgess to steal my ship, and get away with it?”  “Pride.  That’s all it is, pride.”  “If the truth were known, you don’t care about that ship.  You just can’t afford to be bested!”  There’s some truth to that, but then there’s also precedent.  Such a precedent is likely to  embolden others to think they can get away with the same.  
     “Now you listen, Letty, you take care of your business.  Let me take care of mine.”

     While James sails in pursuit of Burgess, Elizabeth comes to Letty for advice, just as she had to Anne nearly 30 years ago.  Marston is pressing her to marry him.  His father is against it.  Sir Daniel has been appointed ambassador to Turkey.   Like Anne, Letty is horrified at the course Elizabeth hopes she’ll advise her.  “This is something you have to decide for yourself,” Letty tells her.
     “I had thought if anybody could give me sound advice, it would be you,” Elizabeth pleads.  Letty turns round to face her, “Then you were wrong.  That you could even consider divorcing Daniel, now, of all times, in order to marry this Viscount Marston.  The idea just appalls me.”  “We cannot govern our hearts, Letty,” Elizabeth pleads yet again.  
     “Elizabeth, you’re talking like a schoolgirl, not like a grown woman.  You should’ve stopped seeing this man months ago, as well ya know, but ya chose not to.  And now what you really want me to say is divorce Daniel.  Well, that is one piece of advice I cannot and will not give.”
     Elizabeth stands up from her contrite position, “Very well.  As you seem determined not to consider my feelings, I think I’d best go.”
     “Well if ya have no stomach for honest home-truths, then . . . yes, you had better go,” the two friends quarrel.  Then Letty’s tone softens, “But before you do, let me ask you one thing.  You put Daniel aside because he deceived you once.  How many times have you deceived him, not by deed, but by thought? . . . I’m sorry Elizabeth, I shouldn’t have said that.  I had no right.”  But it was Elizabeth who came to her asking for advice.
     “You don’t hit out often, Letty, but when you do . . .”  “I know.  I know.”

     Samuel also comes to Letty as the most stable moral influence in the family, after Sarah paid the father of the actress he’s fallen for, to go to America.  “I never for one moment would have suspected Mother of such base treachery.”  “She probably thought she was acting for the best,” Letty gives her the benefit of the doubt.  Samuel doesn’t.
     “Oh, aye, what was best for her [he laughs wryly].  She’d rather try to ruin my happiness than run the risk of being touched by so much as a breath of scandal [he exhales loudly].  So, now, having done the deed, she’s disappeared off to Brighton [seaside resort town 47 mi south of London] again," Samuel complains.  And yet, Samuel had been so lately unwilling that his mother have another love than his dead father.  "I’ll tell you this, Aunt Letty . . .” 
     “No, Samuel.  Don’t tell me any more.  Not a word.  I am sick and tired of every member of this family crying on my shoulder.  You got yourself into this situation, now sort yourself out.  Don’t come bleating to me.  Do you imagine I don’t have problems of my own?  But do I come to you with them, or Sarah, or Elizabeth?  No . . .”  In the midst of all this, we keep hearing the bell ring.  
     Suddenly Mrs. Gibson comes rushing in, “It’s the children’s home.  It’s on fire!”

     When James returns, having let Seth Burgess have the ship after all (he recognized how the man’s soul was entwined with it, saw something of himself in the man), he brings young Tom home in the carriage, through that foggy forest he had brought Letty (S7 E1), Tom gets a glimpse of the house and says, “It’s posh, i’nit?”  “In this neighborhood,” James educates him, “secluded is the accepted expression . . . hmm.  Means peaceful, tranquil.”
     But the camera shows us anything but peace and tranquility, as Letty is playing a lively game of Blind Man’s Bluff with her children from the destroyed orphanage (one can’t help but wonder if those disapproving neighbors had a hand, or torch, in that).  
     The carriage comes to a stop at the house, and James climbs out saying, “What the devil?” Tom follows him.  James walks up to his blindfolded wife, and she touches him with a “Gotcha!”  (Yes, she’s got him, one could say with a smile.)  She pulls down her blindfold and exclaims happily, “James!”  His face is solemn and stern.  She seems not to notice, or is used to it, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back safe and sound.”
     “What’s all this?” he wants to know.  “Whose are all these children?”  “Ours.”  “Ours?”  “Well, for the time being.  The orphanage burned down and . . . oh, I’ve got so much to tell you,” she says with a wide smile of pretty teeth.  
     As they walk into the house, James asks, “Was anybody hurt?”  “Not a soul.  The police say the fire was started deliberately, though I find that hard to believe.”  After the ill-will she was shown in her efforts to acquire the premises?
     “Well have they caught the culprit yet?”  “No, and I doubt that they ever will.”  “Listen, Letty, you could’ve been in that house, you know,” James is suddenly full of care, much as his wives have been for the dangers of his voyages.  
     “Well, I wasn’t, so don’t fuss.  James, I’ve got such news,” she is eager to tell him.  He is distracted by the commotion of the children in other rooms, doesn’t notice the quiet one sucking his thumb and watching, listening to every word, right next to them.
     “Daniel has been made an ambassador . . . Elizabeth has gone to Turkey with him.  Samuel . . .”  “Look, Letty, let me just get in there and sat down, eh? Right.”  He goes into the parlor where Mrs. Gibson is trying to deal with about 8 noisy children.  “Mr. Onedin, if this goes on for much longer, I shall be leaving,” she tells him.  “I don’t blame ya!  Here, how many more children have you got in the house?”  “Twenty-two at the moment, but there’s 5 more to come,” Letty answers.
     “Oh no they are not,” James orders.  “James, they must stay somewhere.”  “Not in my home.  Now listen, Letty, I was against this damn fool idea right from the start.  Now if you think that you’re going to turn my home [with 12 bedrooms] into an orphanage for the . . . the brats of Liverpool whores, you’ve got another think coming!”
     “James, I’m not turning them out ‘til I find somewhere else for them to stay.”  “Well then send them back to wherever they come from!” The two argue amidst the pandemonium.  “You’re being unreasonable.”  “I reckon I’ve been far too reasonable for far too long.  Now look, there’s stables out there.  Put ‘em up in there.”  “I will not!”
     “Right,” James strides out, “Come on, Tom.”  He speaks in a low voice to Tom as he puts on his coat, “Lesson number one, never let a woman have the last word.  Now she’ll come round, you’ll see.”
     “Where d’ya think you’re off to now?” Letty asks him.  “I’m goin’ back to the ship for some peace and quiet,” he nearly yells, toward the children in the other room.  “James Onedin, you are being so stubborn and pig-headed,” they argue with the thumb sucker right between them.  “I know.  Always have been, always will be,” James tells her and winks at Tom as he walks smiling down the hall to the front door where he came in.

S8 E1--Letty died 3 months ago
     The home that James enters now is not full of children, it’s void of life and Letty.  Mrs. Gibson informs him, “. . . the builder called again, that Mr. Garside.”  “What does he want now,” James grouches.  “He’s found another window that needs replacing.”  “Tell ‘im to replace it,” James tells her straightly.  “He thought that in view of the roof and the upstairs floors, you’d be worried about the mounting expense.”  “Well damn the expense [so very unusual of James],” he tells her as he takes off his winter coat.  
     Then he softens his tone, “Mrs. Gibson, you know as well as I do, she wanted the place properly maintained.”  “Aye, that were her last request,” Mrs. Gibson confirms, then adds a sorrowful ,“God bless her.”  It seems strange that the upkeep of the house Letty didn't want would be her last request, unless it was to make sure that James didn't let it, as a symbol of himself, go to ruin.  She didn't want him to retreat into delapidation with the loss of her, her love, their life together.
     “Three months,” James turns to his housekeeper, uncharacteristically, but in order that we are informed of her passing, “You know, coming into the house just then, still half expected to hear her call.”  Yet it was customary for him to be the one to shout for Letty as he came in.  Gibson turns away with his coat in her hands, “Well, I’ll tell Mr. Garside to get on with it then . . . Ya haven’t forgotten your appointment with that Mr. Borovec, have ya?” she turns back to ask.  “No, I have not.”
     The telephone rings, and James grouches, “Such a convenience they told me.  So far it’s been nowt but an inconvenience.”  He picks up the phone and says loudly, peevishly, “James Onedin speaking.”  He moderates his peevishness to say, “Oh, hello, Samuel.  It’s you . . . What the devil do you mean?” he turns peevish again.  He leaves to get his daughter Charlotte, who has left Samuel’s house again after another argument, and then spent the night walking.  He finds her in front of his dockside offices, and rescues her from Samuel’s wrath.

     Elizabeth, returned home from Turkey for business reasons, comes to call on James.  Mrs. Gibson tells her, “Mr. Onedin will be surprised.  He’s in the garden with a foreign gentleman.”
     “Mrs. Gibson, how has he been?” Elizabeth asks, knowing the years he so deeply mourned for Anne.  “Oh, he’s borne it very well.  Very well, indeed.  But . . . it’s the impatience and the ill temper, and me havin’ to pretend that I don’t know how much he misses her,” Mrs. G. expresses with feeling.  
     “I knew it was diphtheria, but James didn’t tell me the exact circumstances in his letter,” Elizabeth wants to know more, as do we.  “She caught it from the children,” Gibson fills in.  “In the children’s home?”  “She would insist on nursing them herself, and she hadn’t the strength.  She’d been workin’ that hard, you see, getting money together to raise the new home.  The old one being burnt down . . . more children comin’ in every day . . . Oh, not just orphans, but children from families who couldn’t afford to feed them.  There’s so many out of work, milady.  You’d never believe how many.”
     “Then for her sake, Mrs. Gibson, we must make sure that that home stays open.”  One wonders where all the children are at present, where it was that Letty was nursing them.  Did she find some temporary premises?  Perhaps not the kind of home she wanted to provide, but what could be had (such as an old institutional structure)?
     Elizabeth finds that Charlotte is living with her father again, and the 2 speak of Samuel, the divorce, the children.  Then Elizabeth notices James walking with his visitor in the snow-covered garden, and she is reminded, “We used to tell him he had enough ambition for an army of Napoleons.  And now, he walks his garden in the snow.  Poor James.”  She doesn’t wait for him to be done with his business, inviting him (via Mrs. Gibson) to call on her the evening.

     That evening Elizabeth apologizes for her letter of condolences at the death of Letty.  “It was so formal, but I was so shocked at the time, I couldn’t express what I really felt about Letty.”  Elizabeth and Letty became great friends from long before she and James were married.  
     “I understand,” James tells her, “She was a good woman.  Never thought of ‘erself, only of others [that’s not strictly true, as he would know more than any others, but it was true in general, and memories of loved ones often enshrine them].  Um, I think myself fortunate to have shared some of my life with her.”  Elizabeth embraces him, and he returns it, but then returns to business.  It's remarkable that he could say that much, but he has changed at least as far as that by now, that he could say as such to his sister, perhaps Letty's best friend, one who also loved her dearly and would be feeling the loss.  And though often at odds, at times James and Elizabeth shared a bond beyond mere business, resentment, or competitiveness.
     Yet James’ personality can only bear short episodes of deep emotion.  If he was able, Letty was the one he and Charlotte could remember together, since Charlotte never knew her mother, and Letty was more like a mother to her than anyone else.  One doubts how much that would happen, though it’s possible he had changed enough and his relationship with his daughter had changed enough.  It’s possible, with the death of Letty he may have felt more drawn to Charlotte, because she was of utmost importance to Letty:  it was uppermost to Letty that he would be a good father to Charlotte, and their relationship become close, as Charlotte needed.

S8 E3—Letty has been gone 8 mos, James meets Margarita
     James is contracted to carry one Margarita Juárez (a pretty widow) home to her father, president of an imagined country Guayada in South America (possibly in the neighborhood of Guayana?).  She is curious about him, and asks his apprentice Tom.  “Capt. Onedin said something about a daughter.  Does he have other children?”  When she had mentioned that she was very close to her father, James told her, “In my experience, daughters take a poor view of their fathers.”  
     “That daughter’s enough, I’d say,” Tom answers Margarita.  “Caused ‘im a lot of grief, she ‘as.  Not like his missus.”  She asks Tom to tell her about James’ missus.  “She died,” he says simply.  “You liked her?”  “Yeah, she was straight with me.  She sort of cared and she took her time to 'elp people.  It was kids, mostly.  She ran a home for them.  She fed ‘em.  Gave ‘em a bit o’ lovin’,  I s'ppose.”
     “She sounds remarkable [James' highest praise for a woman, seemingly a favorite of the writers],” Margarita comments.  “Yeah, she was a great lady.  I don’t want to talk about it no more.”  But then he turns back as he’s leaving, “I’ll tell you somethin' else, missus.  Look, my master may be what you called 'im . . . abrupt.  Maybe you ain’t used to it.  But remember 'is missus died just 8 months ago, so don’t take it personally.”
     Margarita tells James, “You are a most difficult man to talk to.  Oh, I know I’m here as cargo and no more, but I’ve endured 5 days with hardly a civil word, suspicion from Capt. Baines, and you ignore me.  I’m not complaining, but it does make this voyage a little tedious.”
     “I see.  So you find me rude and Capt. Baines suspicious.  Well, happen that’s our nature,” James tells her.  She tells him, “It’s your damned English stiff-backed stubbornness, sir.  And ‘happen’ you have reason for it.”
     “Hmm? What exactly do you mean?” James asks her to explain.  
     “A daughter who has caused you pain, and a wife not long dead.”  “Ma’am, I . . . I suggest you leave that subject alone.”  James walks stiff-backed back over to the decanter.

     At a later time Margarita tells James, “You know you can’t live forever on memories of love, and with anger in your heart because you think you’ve failed.”  “Failed?” he asks.  “Do you feel angry because you think you are the only one who suffers, who feels guilty, who feels the loss?  Tom feels it for her, too, you know,” Margarita points out.  She is too alienated from Baines to know what he feels.  He also thought much of Letty, though perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he knew Anne.  
     “Well, he never said it to me,” James defends himself.  “You’d have warned him off, guarding your loss like a dog at its meat,” she is forthright, but her voice is naturally gentle, not biting, like Caroline’s was.
     “Well, I apologize . . . I can’t say any more, can I?”  “Tell me of yourself,” she bids.  “I’m 47 years old.  I’m a sailor out of Liverpool.  I have a difficult daughter,  I have some ships, few friends, and a cold house to come home to.  Not much at my age, is it? . . . Don’t laugh at me, woman,” he says when she barely makes a soft chuckling sound.  
     “My father always said to me, ‘A simple honest man is worth a thousand clever dishonest ones.’”

Conclusion
     So then, at last, we come to the question:  Were Letty and James a good match?  Did they have a successful, happy marriage?
1. They were attracted to one another immediately. Yet their “language of love” was different.  He shows his love in financial terms, she want respect and doing things together.  He wants her to focus on him/his interests. They do try to show their love in ways meaningful to each other.  She wants to have his child as something they can share, and hopes it’s a son for his sake.  She listens to him, he manages at times to really listen to her.  He helped her get the place she wanted for her children's home, even though he didn't think much of the scheme, and he defended her right to pursue that even when others thought he ought to expect and insist that she bend to his command on the matter.
2. Letty was able to set aside what she’d heard about him until she knew him better for herself.  When she did get to know him better, she loved him despite his faults.  She tried to bring out the best in him, sometimes through confrontations.
3. After his experiences with Caroline and Leonora, James seemed to know more what would be important in a match for himself.  Letty loved his daughter, and his daughter loved her.  Letty wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, she was truthful, able to match wits in a verbal contest.  The 2 important times that Letty was not honest with James, were about her own pregnancy and Charlotte’s, as she was afraid of his reaction, which was not without reason.  And yet, she should have been honest with him.
4. Letty was a kind and a good person, with a conscience . . . Though that could be a frustration to him, I think he would not have her otherwise (other than recognizing that sometimes she didn’t understand the situation, such as in running a ship).
5. Letty didn’t want or try to take Anne’s place, in fact, she wanted to be appreciated for who she herself was.  Yet she recognized Anne’s positive traits, and realized that Anne knew to be married to James, one had to be a match for James’ strong personality.  James didn’t expect Letty to be just like Anne, but to be herself.
6. Letty was a steadying personality, a peacemaker, almost too quick to apologize, too quick to take the blame in their relationship.  All his relatives liked and respected her, and though she was good friends with Elizabeth, she was not overcritical, laugh behind his back, or seek to dominate or diminish him (as Caroline did).  She seemed to genuinely like his relatives.  (She never knew his father-in-law, who apparently died between season 3 and 4, but she would no doubt have tried to get along with him.)
7. James and Letty did have differing parenting styles, though they sometimes functioned in supporting roles.  He was too distant, could be harsh, she was too lenient.  James, Letty, and Charlotte would all suffer the consequences of that.
8. Though Letty enjoyed a certain amount of sailing, ultimately, she wanted something more personally fulfilling.  James was in a different place in his life and career, if you will.  He didn’t need her to fill the same sort of partnership role(s) that he had needed with Anne.  So they struggled with carrying on almost 2 separate lives. 
9. They were not really clear about their expectations--perhaps even to themselves--before their marriage.  After they were married they had real struggles over their different desires and expectations.  
   a. She wanted children, he didn’t.  Well, that is, at least he recognized that his age would make him an old man by the time a child between them would be grown, despite his regret at not having a son as an heir.  He also realized he had not been a good father, and didn’t think he could be one.  And, he had been so traumatized by Anne's dying in childbirth, he desperately feared going through that again.
   b. He wanted Letty to travel with him, she wanted him to stay home with her.  Neither of them liked enforced inactivity:  what being at sea meant for her, what being on land meant for him.  They had a really good time together at the start of their relationship, and sometimes through their relationship, but daily life is different than just having fun together.
10. They had respect for each other in many ways, appreciated the abilities of each other.  He called her remarkable and recognized her developing business acumen.  She seems to have recognized his abilities.  But apparently he often took her for granted (as he had done with Anne), she also took him for granted at times, and had to learn that he knew more about the wider world, and in particular the seaman’s world, than she did.  
11. They had different perspectives about social issues (such as helping the poor and employees), as James’ 1st marriage did.  But they seemed to have the same set of sexual mores, as Anne and James did.  They neither were overly influenced by gossip, but he did care about her reputation (insisted they have a housekeeper when she moved in with him), and she did, too, when it came to it (had qualms about going to Scotland with him without Charlotte along).
12. Letty was willing to be self-sacrificing when necessary.  She was supportive in real financial need.  They both wanted a quiet, rather than an ostentatious wedding, but when he postponed it for trade, she was angry, no doubt embarrassed, and felt he wasn’t valuing her sufficiently.  He tried to show her that he did value her.  She wanted to be on some sort of equal footing, so she held out until she felt she had gained it.  When James became quite wealthy, she was more modest in her desires than he (like the size of house they needed).
13. Why was he so reticent to ask her to marry him, when he clearly didn’t want to be without her?  He had been turned down twice, and that had, in fact, affected him.  He had been so schooled by his sister about his defects over the years, that he was more aware of them than he probably admitted openly.  He did take her for granted, as it seemed she would always be around, and when he was faced with really losing her, he gathered his courage and asked her to marry him.
14. When they lost their son, James’ difficulty dealing with loss made it also more difficult for Letty.  Through a harrowing experience adrift in the sea without a paddle, James came to see that he must show Letty that he cared more about her than the loss of his son.  When he was willing to do that, she was also able to heal emotionally, and their marriage could heal as well.
15. Capt. Baines played a part in their relationship . . . he was first to realize she was pregnant, and was happy about it.  He helped James to reconcile to the pregnancy.  Capt. Baines felt the need to remind James of his present good wife, that he had been fortunate in both his wives, when he thought James a little too attentive to the Reverend’s Daughter.  And Letty in her turn, reminded James of Capt. Baines’ importance to him, as well.
16. James and Letty’s marriage did last until they were parted by death. They were each committed to that.  They kept their marital vows, even though it took a harrowing experience for him to be able to comfort her after their most devastating loss. They did truly love each other, and they did share some very tender times.  They had a certain comfortable relationship in general, but they had a lot of frustrations, challenges, and sorrows--though so did Anne and James.  Of course drama is created for audience consumption, and we don’t see how much smooth sailing might have been between the dramas.
17. Letty was a good person, as was Anne.  James had perhaps learned some things about relationships by the time he married Letty, but he was still not an easy person to live with.  
18. Sometimes James didn’t tell Letty everything in order to protect her.  Sometimes he had to inform her for her protection.  It seems apparent that in general he did tell her about what was going on in his world, and he seemed aware in general of her world.  He didn’t tell her what he did for her in order for her to get the children’s home she wanted, even though he maintained that he was against the whole project.  Considering the way he and Capt. Baines interacted, it’s possible he wasn’t as against it as he let her think he was.

     Ultimately, I suppose each person can decide whether they think Letty and James’ marriage was a good match or a mistake.  Was it a happy & successful marriage?  That could be debated.  It was different than Anne & James' but every marriage doesn't have to be the same in order to be happy and successful.  And even happy and successful marriages are likely to go through challenges, sometimes even unhappy periods.
     Most important is what would they themselves say/think/feel about it?  My guess is that they would have chosen to be married rather than not.  In real life, there's no knowing if a person would have another chance, a better chance.  Sometimes being single is worse than not, but sometimes being married is worse than being single.  I hope that the considerations brought up in the examples in this story will help people make the best choice they can for a happy life.