Downton Abbey (2010–2015): Season 3, Episode 6 - Episode #3.6 - full transcript

Thank you.

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

So would Mary.

My wife is dead.

I'm past help.

But thank you.

The guests 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 must say,
your grief speaks well for her.

Thank you for that.
Thank you for saying that.

Are you sure you wouldn't like this
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.

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, 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. I'm not arguing.

You listened to Clarkson and
so should I have done, but Tapsell
has a reputation as an expert.

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

You believed Tapsell because
he's 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's the baby doing?

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

You ought to think
about getting a nurse.

Mrs Rose will leave,
once the baby's 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 some time.

Some time, yes. 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'll 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.
I had heard.

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

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.

She'll tell me to keep it simple,
but I'd like to surprise her.

OUR Ladyship?
Mrs Crawley wants to show sympathy.

I know you don't want to stop her.
Of course not.

Might you help me
prepare a few dishes? 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's made it very
clear... That no-one from the house
is to have dealings with me.

You're not afraid I'll corrupt YOU,
are you? I am NOT!

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

You don't look as 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 to suggest my fortunes
have taken a turn for the worse,

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...
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 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.

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.

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 as they'd like.

You think I should go away?

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

It can help
to gain a little distance.

I... 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've 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 have any work to do?
I'll clean the silver later.

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.

Remember,
you've my work to do tomorrow.
You off to see the rich farmer?

Whatever he makes, he earns it.
It'd be nice to be your own boss.

No farmer's 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!
Get on with whatever 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?

This is a list of what you'll need.

I'll come in on Thursday
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...
I don't know.

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

Why not serve bread and cheese
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.

What was your plan? 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 luncheon on Thursday.

Oh, how kind. Thank you.

Isobel. Have you come for dinner?

No. I'm dressed quite wrongly,
and 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?
Course I can.

Sorry. Didn't mean to insult
your manhood.

She didn't mean that, either.
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.

The trouble with you lot, you're
all in love with the wrong people!
Take those upstairs!

Isn't there something or other
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 fodder is pleasing to God.

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

Not as pleased as 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.

We haven't started on
the non-Christians,
the whole Indian subcontinent.

The British Empire,
does he approve of that?

If you mean, does he approve of the
expansion of the Christian message?
Yes, I think he does.

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

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'm flabbergasted. You're always
flabbergasted by the unconventional.

But in a family like this one!
Not everyone chooses their religion
to satisfy Debrett's.

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

It'll be a relief for them
that 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.

It's our private business.
Amen.

It's funny, though, all that Latin
and smoke and men in black dresses.

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

Really? 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.

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.

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 degree.

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.

- Maggie!
- What?

Meet us down the pub later!

But this is quite different
from the story 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 she was in the process
of cooking hers.

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, er...

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 today

if nothing you could say
would alter the verdict?

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

Where's Daisy?
Gone off to play the milkmaid.

Do you like 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! 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 'em at the fairs.

But I'm a woman.
Are you?

Well, I never knew that!

There are widows
who take on a tenancy.

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 going to
go on just as they are for 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.

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.

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
Caesarian 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... But there WAS a chance.

Dr 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,
say there was no chance at all?

"Lie"...

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?

It's badly run. It makes no sense
to manage it separately.

What about the tenant?
We'd look after him.

He's growing barley and wheat.

He'd do better with sheep.
Exactly. We'd merge the grazing.

How do you know that?
How do YOU, after spending
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, 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 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.

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. 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 no salad?

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

I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting.

It's good of you to spare the time.
I've only the men to cook for today
and they're easy.

What were you doing
at Crawley House?

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'm not sure you're entitled to
dress down Mrs Patmore in this way.

If Mrs Patmore wants to spend her
time frolicking with prostitutes...

Do I look like a frolicker?
May I ask who's expected
at this precious luncheon?

Her Ladyship, the young Ladies
and the Dowager.

You have allowed
a woman of the street

to wait at table
on members of our family?

I am speechless!

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

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

Jarvis has a lot on his plate.
Yes, of course, but...

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 running this place, or would
you involve Carson or the maids...?

I really... We have to act
if we are to avoid another crisis.

Capital is leaking into the cracks
caused by bad management.

Bad management?

We'll discuss it later.

My Lord, I wonder if
I could have a word? Can't it wait?

No, my Lord. It can't.

Mr Carson's got a bee in his bonnet.
What's that about? Never you mind.

Ivy, have you been running?

No. Why? Your colour's up.
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.
Go somewhere on my own.

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

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 live at the farm.

Because he wants to leave me the
tenancy and all his stock and tools
and all his money and everything.

My lord! You're a proper heiress.

I haven't said yes, yet.
He's made the offer.

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?

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.

Matthew says Robert was against it.
What difference does that make?

Oh, really! My dear, ssh!
We're all family.
I'm not letting the side down.

I'm just saying 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.
What are you talking about?

Do you know
who has prepared this luncheon?
Yes, Ethel, our former housemaid.

Who bore a bastard child.
W-what?

Robert, Ethel has rebuilt her life.

Do you know what she has built
it into? What do you mean?

I think cousin Robert is referring
to Ethel's work as a prostitute.

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

You don't understand the
difficulties she's faced. I couldn't
care less how she earns a living.

I care that you have exposed my
family to scandal. Who would know?

People find out these things.
Your gardener, your kitchen maid...

I suppose she has an appropriate
costume for every activity.

We are leaving.

Is this because of me, my Lord?
No, it's because of his Lordship.
We're not leaving.

Is that a Charlotte Russe?
How delicious!

I hope it's tasty, my Lady.

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?

Seems a pity
to miss such a good pudding.

Who got Mrs Bartlett to change
her evidence? Who's Mrs...

Durrant. Now Durrant is going to
tell her the police are on to her.

She'll wind up inside
if she doesn't change her story.
To what? The truth!

Or else what? I tell the governor
you and Durrant are bringing
in drugs. That's a lie!

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.

You disappoint me.

I never thought of you
as 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.
Doesn't he just?

You mustn't let him upset you.
He 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.

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'm 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's she doing?

She's blooming.

They STAYED in the house,
even after they knew?

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

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

Jesus managed to eat
with Mary Magdalene.

We can't be sure he ate with her.
He allowed 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.

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.

Her Ladyship won't be long now.

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 hands?
Like this.

That foot goes back first.

Right?
Yeah. It goes slow, slow...

quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick.

M'lady, it's arrived.

It's here. I wanted you to be
the first to know. 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'll 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'm so, so happy for you.
I know you are.

Have you told Papa?
Not yet, m'lady.

Well, do. Please do.
He's very low just now.

It will be wonderful for him
to hear something good.

Have you seen this note from Mama?

I have. I wonder what she wants.

I can stand anything
but a lecture on marital harmony.

Do we have to go?
I think so. 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,
my Lord, but Mrs Bartlett has given
a statement that'll clear him.

At least, Mr Murray says
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. 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.
I want to thank Mrs Patmore.

I brought these 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.

You can talk as tough as you like.
I know YOU won't abandon me.

Why doesn't that thought
make you kinder?
Because I am who I am, Mrs Hughes.

Slow, slow, quick, quick. Go back.
Slow...

Look at the pair of you.
Alfie's learning the foxtrot.

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

What do you mean? 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.

Step aside,
let me show you how it's done.

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?

Alfred 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...
Silence.

You're a disgrace to your livery.

And as for you, Daisy,

have your years here
taught you nothing?

Thanks for speaking up

I don't suppose you want
to practise... I'm very busy.

Why don't you ask Ivy
if she's 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 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'm 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 Caesarian.

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 can't go that far.

Sir Philip Tapsell ignored
all the evidence in a most unhelpful
and 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'll take my leave.

It seems so strange without Sybil.
She's watching, I know.

Welcome back, Mr Bates! He can't
have expected to stay my valet.

I believe I can make Downton safe
for our children. What about Papa?

Downton has existed for hundreds
of years. Must I remind you
of the state the place was in?

The editor's written back
repeating his offer.

I assume your father disapproves.
It's the business
of parents to worry.

I know what's going on. What are you
going on about? He's a ladies' man.

Alfred says he's always going on
about you.