(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

Thank you.

I know we all sound like parrots, Tom, but I really would like to help if I can.

And so would Mary.

My wife is dead.

I am past help, but thank you.

The Southesks looked for you to say goodbye.

I was here.

I hope you'll let me know if there's anything I can do.

Anything at all.

Thank you.

I'll come with you. Save him getting the car out twice.

You're both very welcome to stay for some dinner.

I don't think so. Grief makes one so terribly tired.

Goodbye, my dear.

Now that it's over, try to get some rest.

Is it over?

When one loses a child, is it ever really over?

Cheer up, Mr Barrow. A long face won't solve anything.

Leave him alone.

He knew Lady Sybil better than any of us.

Except you. We were the two who really knew her.

I'd say your grief speaks well for her.

Thank you for that.

Thank you for saying that.

Are you sure you wouldn't like this laid in the dining room, ma'am?

No, thank you. I'd like to eat quickly and have an early night.

How was the service?

Oh, quite nicely done.

But you know how it is when you bury someone young.

When you lose your child, there's nothing worse under the sun.

I was wondering if I might try to take her out of herself.

Perhaps give a little lunch party, nothing formal.

Just Lady Grantham and the girls.

And I could cook something special.

Well, we don't have to decide that now.

But I don't understand why they haven't let him out.

Mr Murray hasn't been to see Mrs Bartlett yet, and when he does, she may not want to repeat the things she said to me.

Well, she must be made to repeat them.

Even then, would we have enough to overturn the verdict?

How can we prove she was cooking that pie and not something else?

Because something else would have been found.

Look, I'm not saying it'll all be done by Tuesday.

But this is the moment we've all been waiting for.

What's the matter?

It's so nice of you to say "we."

I mean it.

We need some good news in this house, Anna.

And this is it. This must be it.

I thought I might move back in here tonight, if you'll have me.

Not yet.

I think I'd rather sleep alone for a while yet.

Well, if you're sure.

I'm sure.

Cora...

Let's not go through it all again.

But I'm not arguing. You listened to Clarkson and so should I have done.

But Tapsell has a reputation <i>as</i> an expert.

And you believed him, when Dr Clarkson knew Sybil's history and he did not.

You believed Tapsell because he is knighted and fashionable and has a practice in Harley Street.

You let all that nonsense weigh against saving our daughter's life.

Which is what I find so very hard to forgive.

Do you think I miss her any less than you?

I should think you miss her more.

Since you blocked the last chance we had to prevent her death.

I'll say good night, then.

Good night.

How is the baby doing?

I envy her. She doesn't know a thing about it.

We ought to think about getting a nurse.

Mrs Rose will leave once the baby is weaned.

Perhaps a local girl?

But I'm not staying.

Or at least, just until I find a job.

Well, there's no rush.

God, no.

Tom's right. He has to start to make a life for himself sometime.

Sometime, yes. But not right away.

And anyway, now that the funeral's over, we ought to think about the christening.

Do you know what you'd like her to be called?

I'd like to call her Sybil.

Of course.

You don't think it might be a little painful?

Very painful, at first. But I think it's right.

I want to remember her mother whenever I look at her.

Of course you do.

And she would want to be remembered.

I'll go and see Mr Travis this afternoon.

Why Mr Travis?

To fix the date.

But Sybil will be Catholic.

What?

My daughter is Irish and she will be Catholic, like her father.

It's time I started my morning.

Mrs Patmore!

Oh! Ethel?

Mrs Patmore, I wonder if I could ask for your advice?

Well, I...

I suppose you know

I'm working for Mrs Crawley now at Crawley House?

I had heard.

She's been ever so kind to me and I'd hate her to suffer for it.

You see, she's hired me as cook-housekeeper, but to be honest, my cooking's a little rusty.

Oh, yes?

She's giving a lunch party, to help her Ladyship in her sorrow.

I know she'll tell me to keep it simple, but I'd like to surprise her with something really nice.

Our Ladyship?

Mrs Crawley wants to show sympathy. I know you don't want to stop her.

Of course not.

So might you help me prepare a few dishes?

You just tell me how to make them, I'll do the work. Please?

Look, I don't mean to be rude or personal, Ethel, but Mr Carson has made it very clear that...

That no one from the house is to have any dealings with me.

But surely you're not afraid I'll corrupt you, are you?

I am not!

Then why should Mrs Crawley be punished for showing me kindness?

(SIGHS)

You don't look <i>as</i> optimistic as you did, Bates. Something wrong?

Not that I'm aware of, Mr Durrant.

Really? You seem downcast.

I wondered if some scheme to improve your lot had gone awry.

If you know something that might suggest my fortunes have taken a turn for the worse, officer, perhaps you'd be kind enough to share it with me.

Am I kind enough to share it with him, Craig?

No, I don't think I am.

Did you hear about Tom's announcement at breakfast?

He wants the child to be a left-footer.

Papa, I know it's hard for you...

There hasn't been a Catholic Crawley since the Reformation.

She isn't a Crawley, she's a Branson.

The only chance that child will have of achieving anything in life is because of the blood of her mother.

Well, I don't agree.

And besides, Sybil...

That's another thing.

I think it's ghoulish to call her after Sybil.

Well, I don't.

No, there's no need to cook.

Just fetch some ham from Mr Bakewell and make a light salad.

You can't go wrong with that and Lady Grantham won't want more.

I'd like to make a bit of an effort, to show our sympathies.

It's a nice idea, Ethel, but I'd like to keep it safe.

I'll walk up to the house later.

COUNTESS: What is your plan for the child?

What do you mean?

Well, if Branson takes her away, to live with him in Liverpool, or wherever he comes to rest, then presumably it will be his influence that governs her upbringing.

I hadn't thought about that.

Then, I suggest you do and soon.

What does Cora say?

Not much. Not much to me, anyway.

She still holds you responsible?

She's wretchedly unhappy, if that's what you mean.

I will not criticise a mother who grieves for her daughter.

I think she's grieving for her marriage, as well as for Sybil.

Robert, people like us are never unhappily married.

What do we do if we are?

Well, in those moments, a couple is

"unable to see as much of each other <i>as</i> they would like."

You think I should I go away?

Or Cora could go to New York to see that woman.

It can help to gain a little distance.

I can't seem to think straight about any of it.

My dearest boy, there is no test on earth greater than the one you have been put to.

I do not speak much of the heart, since it's seldom helpful to do so, but I know well enough the pain when it is broken.

Thank you, Mama.

Don't you two have any work to do?

We're cleaning the silver later, but Mr Carson told us to wait for him.

I wouldn't mind your hours.

What's the matter?

You look very...

Very what?

I don't know exactly.

Stop gabbing, Ivy, and remember you've my work to do tomorrow as well as your own.

Are you off to see the rich farmer?

Whatever he makes, he earns it.

Oh, it'd be nice to be your own boss.

No farmer is his own boss.

He takes his orders from the sun and the snow and the wind and the rain.

Oh, I see. Is this the new servants' hall?

What have they done with the old one, I wonder?

What are you staring at?

A cat can look at a king.

Well, not at a cook. Now get on with whatever it is you're doing.

I'll be back before the gong.

I don't know what I'm doing here.

You're here because you're kind.

Am I?

Right, this is a list of what you'll need.

I'll come in on Thursday morning and see how you're getting on.

Can I really do it? Salmon mousse?

Anyone who has use of their limbs can make a salmon mousse.

Lamb chops portmanteau'd? I don't know.

Surely you can cut up a bit of chicken liver and some parsley?

Oh, why not just serve 'em bread and cheese, then, and have done with it?

You're right. I'll give it a go.

Forgive me for barging in.

But I have a little plan.

Oh, goodness, you've changed.

It's much later than I realised.

We're rather prompt.

Robert's invited Mr Travis to dine with us.

So, what was your plan?

Well, I was wondering if you and the girls might come to me for luncheon on Thursday.

Do I count as one of the girls?

Of course.

You're very kind, but I'm not really going out at the moment.

There'll be no one else there, only me.

And a walk to the village might blow some cobwebs away.

I'm afraid I would only bring my troubles with me.

Hello, Mother. What brings you here?

She's just invited Cora and Edith and Mary to come to luncheon on Thursday.

Oh, how kind. Thank you.

Isobel? Have you come for dinner?

Oh, no. I'm dressed quite wrongly and I know you have a guest.

I doubt Mr Travis has much of an eye for fashion.

Oh, do stay. We need cheering up.

Can you manage?

Of course I can.

Sorry. I didn't mean to insult your manhood.

She didn't mean that, either. Now, get on.

Are you looking forward to your outing with Mr Mason?

I am. It's a lovely place.

You should go with her.

Or I could come out with you.

You know the trouble with you lot? You're all in love with the wrong people.

Now, take those upstairs!

But isn't there something rather un-English about the Roman Church?

Since I am an Irishman, that's not likely to bother me.

I cannot feel bells and incense, and all the rest of that pagan falderal is pleasing to God.

I see. So is He not pleased by the population of France or Italy?

Not as pleased <i>as</i> He is by the worship of the Anglicans, no.

South America? Portugal? Have they missed the mark, too?

I do not mean to sound harsh.

I'm sure there are many individuals from those lands who please Him.

And the Russians? And the Spanish?

There must be many good Spaniards.

And we haven't even started on the non-Christians.

There's the whole Indian subcontinent to begin with.

And the British Empire. Does He approve of that?

If you mean does He approve of the expansion of the Christian message, then, yes, I think He does.

And so do I. Poor Mr Travis. You're all ganging up on him.

Well, you and Granny are ganging up against Tom.

Not me. The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk is a dear friend.

And she's more Catholic than the Pope.

I simply do not think that it would help the baby to be baptised into a different tribe from this one.

She will be baptised into my tribe.

Am I the only one to stand up for Sybil? What about her wishes?

Sybil would be happy for the child to be a Catholic.

How do you make that out?

Because she said so.

To me. On the day she died.

Did she?

Oh, God, did she, really?

I am flabbergasted.

You are always flabbergasted by the unconventional.

But in a family like this one...

Not everyone chooses their religion to satisfy Debrett's.

I've no great wish to persecute Catholics, but I find it hard to believe they're loyal to the Crown.

Well, it'll be a relief for them to know you no longer want them burned at the stake.

I don't believe in orthodoxy.

That's a long word.

A man can choose to be different without it making him a traitor.

I agree.

I don't like discussing religion. We'll only fall out and surely it's our private business.

Amen.

It's funny though, isn't it?

All that Latin and smelly smoke and men in black dresses.

I'm glad I'm Church of England, me.

Really? And what do you feel about transubstantiation?

You what?

Never mind, Alfred.

Your heart's in the right place. I can't say that for everyone under this roof.

MATTHEW: When Sybil was talking about the baby being a Catholic, did you get the sense that she knew?

I'm not sure. Not at the time, but of course I've asked myself since.

You'd think we'd be used to young death, after four years of war.

That's why we must never take anything for granted.

Which is what I'm trying to get Robert to see.

He wasn't given Downton by God's decree.

We have to work if we want to keep it.

But not only Downton. Us.

We must never take us for granted. Who knows what's coming?

Well, I have to take one thing for granted.

That I will love you until the last breath leaves my body.

Oh, my darling. Me, too. Me, too.

But this is quite different from the story you told before.

I don't think it is.

I'm afraid so.

You said you went to Mrs Bates's house after you'd eaten your evening meal and that she was in the process of cooking hers.

Well, I had just eaten when I saw her, that's true, but it was dinner at midday.

Mr Bates was going to call on her that afternoon.

But, um, you described how the light from the gas lamps caught the rain and made a kind of halo round her.

That sounds rather fanciful for me.

So you do not remember saying it?

I don't remember, because I never said it.

I see.

As a matter of interest, why did you let me come here today, if nothing you could say would alter the verdict?

I thought it was time you saw how real people live.

(HUMMING)

Where's Daisy?

Gone off to play the milkmaid.

Do you like dancing?

JIMMY: 'Course she likes dancing.

Everyone likes dancing.

I love the foxtrot, don't you?

It's all right.

What about you, Alfred?

Alfred wouldn't do the foxtrot, would you, Alfred?

He takes himself too seriously for that.

Well, I love it. I think it makes you glad to be young.

Me? Run this farm? Are you serious?

Not right away, but eventually.

But I'm a cook.

And you think there's no cooking on a farm?

You could do a cracking trade with jams and jellies and cake and all sorts.

You could sell them at the fairs.

But I'm a woman.

Are you? Well, I never knew that!

There are widows who take on a tenancy and you're liked in the big house. They'll not refuse you.

I own the equipment, all the stock and I've quite a bit put by.

It's hard work, but you're used to that.

I can't answer now.

No, of course not. But think on it.

And think on this and all.

My dream would be if you were to come here and live with me so I could teach you.

But I always thought I'd spend my life in service.

You have 40 years of work ahead of you.

Do you think these great houses like Downton Abbey are gonna go on just as they are, for another 40 years?

Because I don't.

You wanted to speak to me, Lady Grantham.

Yes, on a melancholy matter, I'm afraid. Please.

I want to talk a little more about the death of my granddaughter.

A terrible, terrible tragedy.

But now I am concerned beyond that.

Oh'? Are you worried for the child?

No, not especially. No, she seems quite a tough little thing.

Dr Clarkson, my daughter-in-law is quite convinced you could have saved Sybil, had you been allowed to.

Well, one can never speak of these things with any certainty.

Well, this is the point.

What was the likelihood of Sybil's survival?

Had we operated? She might have lived.

There are cases where an early Caesarean saved the mother after pre-eclampsia.

How many cases?

Not many, I admit. I'd need to do some research.

I want you to tell Lord and Lady Grantham what you have almost admitted to me.

But there was a chance.

Doctor Clarkson, you have created a division between my son and his wife, when the only way they can conceivably bear their grief is if they face it together.

So you want me to lie to them and say there was no chance at all?

"Lien is so unmusical a word.

I want you to review the evidence, honestly and without bias.

Even to ease suffering, I could never justify telling an outright lie.

Have we nothing in common?

<i>MATTHEW: It's badly run and it makes no sense to manage it separately.</i>

What about the tenant?

We'd look after him.

TOM: He's growing barley and wheat. I'd say he'd do better with sheep.

Exactly. We'd merge the grazing. How do you know that?

How do you, after spending all your growing years in Manchester?

I've been on a steep learning curve since arriving at Downton.

My grandfather was a tenant farmer in Galway, with black-faced sheep.

So there's a country boy inside the revolutionary.

Not much of one.

You must hate it here.

No, I don't hate it.

But I don't belong here either.

What will you do?

I've thought of Liverpool. There might be something for me there.

And the baby?

I'll hire a woman or get a cousin over to take care of her.

I don't know.

But what else can I do?

You could leave her here.

No. I'll not be separated from her.

She's all I have left of her mother.

Right. You know what you're doing?

I think so. Yes.

Use an alarm clock to remind you when to put things in the oven and when to take them out.

I will.

You've done well, Ethel.

Maybe you've also done yourself a favour.

I'm very grateful.

I expected her to deny everything the moment she realised her testimony would release me.

You know she did say every word of it?

Of course. But I'm afraid someone tipped her off before I went to see her.

I think I know who.

The question remains as to what we do next.

I wonder what Mrs Bartlett is thinking at this moment.

That she's glad Mr Bates is still in prison.

No, I'm not sure.

It's a big thing for a woman like that to lie to a lawyer.

To flout the law.

They would have bribed her to do it.

Or frightened her.

Well, we cannot offer a bribe.

But perhaps we can try to persuade her into returning to the path of truth.

Let me see what I can do.

Nothing foolish.

You mustn't do anything stupid. Promise me.

Leave it with me, Mr Murray.

I don't understand. I can smell cooking.

It's quite simple, ma'am. You'll be pleased, I promise. I've had help.

And I suppose there's no ham and there's no salad?

(DOORBELL RINGS)

If this luncheon is a failure, Ethel, I shall hold you responsible.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Oh, I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting, but I had to send up the luncheon.

It's good of you to spare the time.

Oh, it's all right. I've only the men to cook for today and they're easy.

What were you doing at Crawley House this morning?

Who says I was at Crawley House?

I saw you coming out.

Oh, I see.

Well, Mrs Crawley was giving a luncheon party and I...

And you were helping Ethel.

I suppose I was.

Against my strict instructions to give the place a wide berth.

Now, Mr Carson, no one disputes your position as head of this household, but I am not sure that you are entitled to dress down Mrs Patmore in this way.

Of course, if Mrs Patmore wants to spend her time frolicking with prostitutes...

Do I look like a frolicker?

May I ask who was expected at this precious luncheon?

Her Ladyship, the young ladies and the Dowager.

You have allowed a woman of the streets to wait at table on members of our family?

Oh, I am speechless.

I would guess he won't stay speechless for long.

I really need to spend a day with the agent to talk it through.

Jarvis has a lot on his plate.

Yes, of course, but I want to...

Must we discuss this now? It's very boring for Tom.

I don't...

Tom is your son-in-law and his daughter is your only grandchild.

None of which gives him a word in the running of this place.

Or would you like to involve Carson? Or the maids? Or people in the village?

I really...

Robert, we have to act if we are to avoid another crisis. At the moment the capital is leaking into the cracks caused by bad management.

Bad management?

We'll discuss it later.

Milord, I wonder if I could have a word?

Can't it wait?

No, milord. It can't.

Mr Carson's got a real bee in his bonnet. What's that about?

Never you mind.

Ivy, have you been running?

No. Why?

Oh, your colour's up. I hope you're not coming down with something.

How was your day off, Daisy?

Lovely, thank you.

What are you doing? With your day off?

What I usually do. I'm going somewhere on me own.

You never give up, do you? He's not interested.

IVY: Well, he must be interested in someone.

He's young, isn't he?

But that "someone" is not you.

How was Mr Mason?

Very well. As nice as usual.

What is it?

He wants me to go and live at the farm, because he wants to leave me the tenancy and all his stock and all his tools and all his money and everything.

My Lord. You're a proper heiress.

I haven't said yes, yet.

But he's made the offer. And a very generous one it is, too.

He's ever so generous, and so kind.

This was very good.

It was.

It really was.

Don't sound so surprised.

I am surprised.

I owe Ethel an apology. I've underestimated her.

I sometimes wonder if I should learn to cook.

Why?

You never know. It might come in handy one day.

And I've got to do something.

What did you say to that editor who wanted you to write for him?

I haven't said anything yet. It's probably too late now, anyway.

Matthew tells me Robert was against it.

What difference does that make?

Oh, really, my dear, shh.

We're all family. I'm not letting the side down.

I'm just saying that Robert frequently makes decisions based on values that have no relevance any more.

Do you think I should do it?

I wouldn't countermand your father.

Then why bring it up?

Well, I do. And so does Matthew.

And so does Matthew what?

What else has Matthew decided for my family?

Robert.

Don't worry. I don't need to be fed. We're going. All of you. Now.

What are you talking about?

Do you know who has prepared this luncheon for you?

Yes. Ethel. Our former housemaid.

Who bore a bastard child!

What?

Robert, Ethel has rebuilt her life.

Has she? Do you know what she has built it into?

What do you mean?

I think Cousin Robert is referring to Ethel's work <i>as</i> a prostitute.

Well, of course, you know, these days servants are very hard to find.

I don't think you understand the difficulties she's had to face

I couldn't care less how she earns her living! Good luck to her!

What I care about is that you have exposed my family to scandal!

But who would know?

I can't tell you how people find out these things, but they do.

Your gardener, your kitchen maid...

I suppose she has an appropriate costume for every activity.

We're leaving.

Is this because of me, milord?

No, it's because of his Lordship.

And we are not leaving.

Is that a charlotte russe? How delicious.

I hope it's tasty, milady.

Mrs Patmore gave me some help.

I'm glad to know that Mrs Patmore has a good heart, and does not judge.

Is anyone coming?

It seems a pity to miss such a good pudding.

Who went to Mrs Bartlett? Who got her to change her evidence?

Who is Mrs Bart...

Durrant.

Well, now Durrant is going to tell her the police are onto her and she's going to wind up inside if she doesn't change her story.

Change it to what?

To the truth.

Or else what?

Or else I go to the Governor.

I tell him how you and Durrant are bringing in drugs and trying to get me to sell them for you.

That's a lie.

And Durrant will lose his job and you will stay here five years longer.

No. He went down there and told them, and none of them came away.

Not even the Dowager?

My, my. Perhaps the world is becoming a kinder place.

You say kinder. I say weaker and less disciplined.

Well, if her Ladyship is prepared to visit Crawley House, I dare say you won't object when I do.

I won't forbid it, because I have no right to do so, but I do object with every fibre of my being.

But you disappoint me.

I never thought of you <i>as</i> a woman with no standards.

I wish you'd come back to the drawing room.

I'd only set your mother's teeth on edge.

She'll come through it.

She will.

Which brings me to your performance today.

How did that help?

I was angry with Isobel for exposing you all to gossip.

You were angry, all right.

But not with Isobel or Ethel.

I think it's because the world isn't going your way.

Not any more.

Has Matthew told you about his latest plans for Downton?

I know he wants to change things.

Oh, doesn't he just.

You mustn't let him upset you.

He's more or less told me I've let the estate fall to pieces.

I'm sure he didn't mean that.

Didn't he?

"A fool and his money are soon parted."

And I have been parted from my money, so I suppose I am a fool.

You won't win over the christening.

Not if you're against me.

I am never against you.

But you've lost on this one.

Did Sybil truly not mind?

She wanted Tom to be happy.

She loved him, very much, you know.

We all need to remember that.

I keep forgetting she's gone.

I see things in the paper that would make her laugh.

I come inside to tell her that her favourite rose is in bloom and then, suddenly...

Say that to Mama.

Please.

She doesn't want to hear it from me.

How is she doing?

She's blooming.

You mean they stayed in that house, even after they knew?

I expect they didn't want to insult Mrs Crawley.

I couldn't have swallowed another bite. Not once I knew.

Jesus managed to eat with Mary Magdalene.

Now we can't be sure that he ate with her.

He did allow her to wash his feet.

I see.

Well, I'll tell Ethel she has a treat in store.

What's the matter with you?

I'm sorry, but...

Ivy, we haven't finished yet.

We've never finished.

What's this?

Rouge?

Have you been painting your face?

It's not like the old days, Mrs Patmore. All the girls do it now.

Not in this house, Miss Hussy! Go and wash! We'll see no more of it!

It's nice to know we've another piano player in the house.

Unless you think it's too soon?

Oh, no. Lady Sybil was a bright young thing.

She'd be glad of some music. You play well, James.

There's no end to Jimmy's talents, is there?

His Lordship wants you.

I wish he wouldn't do that.

What?

He's always touching me.

I'm going to tell Mr Carson.

You'd never.

I'd tell the flippin' police if it'd make him stop.

I must go. I need to fetch some linen and her Ladyship won't be long now.

♪ <i>Somebody stole my...</i> ♪

What are you doing?

Nothing.

It didn't look like nothing.

Can you dance the foxtrot?

I think so. Yeah, I can.

Would you teach me?

Well, I'm supposed to lay the tea.

And here's me thinking you'd like to dance with me.

Go on, then.

How do you put the hand?

Like this.

(ALFRED CLEARS THROAT)

You do... That foot goes back first. It goes...

Right.

It goes slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick...

Milady!

It's arrived! It's here! I wanted you to be the first to know.

Know what? What's arrived?

He's done it! Mr Murray's done it!

He's got her to make a statement! Witnessed and everything!

So when will Bates be set free?

It will take a few weeks, for the formalities.

But he'll be released. Mr Murray's quite clear about that.

So Mr Bates is coming home.

Oh, I am so, so happy for you.

I know you are.

Have you told Papa?

Not yet, milady.

Oh, do. Please do.

He's very low just now.

And it will be wonderful for him to hear something good.

CORA: Have you seen this note from Mama?

I have. I wonder what she wants.

I can stand anything but a lecture on marital harmony.

(CHUCKLES)

Do we have to go?

I think so. But we needn't stay long.

Good.

You look very nice this morning.

Don't flirt with me, Robert. Not now.

I'm ever so sorry to interrupt, milord, but Mrs Bartlett has given a statement that'll clear him.

At least, Mr Murray <i>says</i> "it will make the verdict unsafe."

So Mr Bates is coming back to Downton.

Isn't it marvellous?

Yes. That is absolutely marvellous. Do you want to telephone Murray?

If you do, tell Carson. He'll manage it for you.

Why? Are you going out?

Your grandmother has asked us to call. But I'll hear what he says later.

I really am so very glad.

Excuse me! What are you doing here?

I'm sorry, Mr Carson, but I wanted to thank Mrs Patmore and I've brought these flowers.

When we want flowers, there are plenty in the gardens here.

How nice of you, Ethel. Mrs Patmore is in the kitchen.

I hope you never need a favour from your fellow man.

<i>You can talk as tough as you like. I know you won't abandon me.</i>

Well, then, why doesn't that thought make you kinder?

Because I am who I am, Mrs Hughes.

Slow, slow, quick, quick, go back, slow...

(JIMMY LAUGHS)

Look at the pair of you.

Alfred's learning the foxtrot.

I bet he is, but he's gonna have to do better than that.

What do you mean? Why?

Well, he's only learning it to please our Ivy.

Aren't you, m'laddo?

Is that true?

Well...

Of course it is, you runner bean.

Now step aside and let me show you how it's done.

(JIMMY HUMMING)

What is going on here? At a time like this, of sober dignity!

Have you lost all sense of shame and propriety, sir?

What makes you think you're the stuff of a first footman?

It's Alfred who looks like a first footman to me.

Take a leaf from his book and learn to conduct yourself with discretion.

But, Mr Carson, he was the one who...

Silence!

You are a disgrace to your livery!

And <i>as</i> for you, Daisy, have your years here taught you nothing?

Thanks for speaking up.

I don't suppose you want to practice...

I am very busy.

Why don't you ask Ivy if she has got any spare time?

Dr Clarkson.

Lady Grantham, how are you?

Much as you'd expect me to be.

Dr Clarkson has something to tell you which may alter your view on things a little.

I don't mean to be discourteous, but I doubt it.

Since you're here, I have a few words of my own to say.

I feel I owe you an apology.

Please, Lord Grantham, if you'll just allow me.

On that awful night, I am afraid I may have given you the impression that my recommended course of treatment offered a real chance for Lady Sybil's survival.

The truth, and I've done a great deal of research since, as you can imagine, is that the chance was a small one.

A tiny one, really.

I'd read that early delivery was the only way to avoid the trauma and it is.

As you tried so hard to tell us.

But what I did not quite realise was that eclampsia is almost invariably fatal, with or without a Caesarean.

Had you agreed, we would have subjected Lady Sybil to the fear and pain of a hurried operation, when in all likelihood, she would have died anyway.

But there was a chance.

An infinitesimal one.

The discomfort and the terror would have been all too certain.

So you think Tapsell was right?

Oh, I cannot go that far.

Sir Philip Tapsell ignored all the evidence in the most unhelpful, and I may say, arrogant manner.

But Sybil was going to die?

When everything is weighed in the balance, I believe that Lady Sybil was going to die.

And now I will take my leave.

(BOTH SOBBING)