Downton Abbey

I suppose you're more interested in books than country sports.

I doubt Cousin Mary and I are destined to be close friends.

Her father's home and her mother's fortune are to be passed to me.

Mr.

Nobody from nowhere.

O'Brien!

CARSON: All we want is to know what Gwen wants with a typewriter.

I want to be a secretary.

Lady Mary Crawley, I presume.

Mr.

Pamuk!

Let me come to you tonight.

MARY: I'd be ruined if they even knew we'd had this conversation.

(whispering): He's dead!

In your room?

A heart attack, I suppose, or a stroke.

You won't tell Papa.

CORA: I will not, but I keep the secret for his sake, not for yours.

(birds chirping, hammers banging) (people talking in background) GWEN: When does it open?

Tomorrow afternoon.

Well, let's get up a party in the evening, if Mrs.

Hughes lets us, after we've had our dinner.

You're right.

It doesn't come often and it doesn't stay long.

And what about you, Mr.

Bates?

I don't see why not.

ANNA: Oh, there's Lady Mary.

You go on ahead.

I'll see you back at the house.

GWEN: Right you are, then.

ANNA: Good day, m'lady.

Is Her Ladyship all right?

Has she recovered from... If you think she'll ever recover from carrying the body of Mr.

Pamuk from one side of the house to the other, then you don't know her at all.

Well, I didn't mean "recover," exactly, just... Get past it.

She won't do that, either.

When she dies, they'll cut her open and find it engraved on her heart.

What about you?

What about your heart?

Haven't you heard?

I don't have a heart.

Everyone knows that.

Not me, m'lady.

MATTHEW: Are you going to the fair while it's here?

I shouldn't think so, sir.

But I don't mind it.

I like the music.

Goodness, what's happened to your hands?

It's nothing, ma'am.

They look very painful.

Oh, no, ma'am.

Irritating more than painful.

Have you been using anything new to polish the silver or the shoes?

No.

May I?

Leave him alone, Mother.

It looks like erysipelas.

You must have cut yourself.

Not that I'm aware of.

We'll walk round to the hospital tomorrow.

Really, ma'am... I insist.

(sniffing softly) (exclaims) If you've got a cold, I want you out of here.

Anna, there you are.

You know I'm out tonight?

Because I don't want to come home to any surprises.

(Mrs.

Patmore laughs) That'll be the day.

ANNA: We thought we might go to the fair later.

You'd like that, wouldn't you, Daisy?

You ought to go.

She's been that down in the mouth since the death of poor Mr.

Pamuk.

Don't say that.

MRS.

PATMORE: Well, she has.

We could all walk down together after the servants' dinner, if that's okay.

(sneezes) You won't be walking anywhere.

She's got minutes to live, by the sound of it.

Go to bed at once.

Yes, Mrs.

Hughes.

I'll bring up a Beecham's Powder.

Right.

If there's anything you want to ask me, it'll need to be before I go.

What would I want to ask you?

I am preparing a meal for Lord and Lady Grantham and the girls.

No one is visiting, no one is staying.

Well.

That's settled, then.

NURSE: I'm afraid Dr.

Clarkson's out, delivering a baby.

We don't know when he'll be back.

No matter-- if you'll just open the store cupboard, I can easily find what I need.

Well, I... You can tell the doctor that you opened the cupboard for the chairman of the board.

I assure you he will raise not the slightest objection.

This should do it.

Tincture of steel.

Ten drops in water, three times a day.

And this is solution of nitrate of silver.

Rub a little in, morning and night.

How long before it's better?

Erysipelas is very hard to cure.

We should be able to reduce the symptoms, but that might be all we can manage.

Oh, and you must wear gloves at all times.

I couldn't wait at table in gloves.

I'd look like a footman.

You may have to.

The tincture and the salve will help.

Try it for a week and we'll see.

(door closes) Someone to see you, Mr.

Crawley.

There's nothing in my diary.

It's Lady Grantham.

Well, in that case, show her in at once.

Cousin Cora, to what do I owe the... I hope I'm not a disappointment.

I thought it might be nice to cheer it up a bit.

Easier said than done.

Perhaps with a flower, or a bit of veil or something.

I can find you a veil if you like.

I hope you're not expecting me to do it.

Not if you're busy, of course.

Good.

And Miss O'Brien, I've sent Anna to bed with a cold, so I need you to manage the young ladies.

What, all three of them?

I'm not an octopus.

Why can't Gwen do it?

Because she is not a lady's maid.

I am not a slave.

Just do it, Miss O'Brien.

Just do it.

(footsteps retreating) VIOLET: I'll pay you the compliment that I do not believe you wish to inherit just because nobody's investigated properly.

No, but... Nor can Murray accuse you of making trouble when you are the one who will suffer most from a discovery.

You're right that I don't wish to benefit, at Mary's expense, from an ignorance of the law.

Putting it bluntly, do you think Robert has thrown in the towel prematurely?

Good heavens, what am I sitting on?

A swivel chair.

(exhales) Another modern brainwave?

Not very modern-- they were invented by Thomas Jefferson.

Why does every day involve a fight with an American?

I'll fetch a different one.

No, no, no, no.

I'm a good sailor.

It will depend on the exact terms of the entail and of the deed of gift when Cousin Cora's money was transferred to the estate.

That is all I ask, to understand the exact terms.

Is Daisy going to the fair tonight with the others?

Why don't you ask her?

She needs taking out of herself.

(Mrs.

Patmore talking in background) What's it to you?

Nothing.

Daisy, I was hoping... Would you like to go to the fair with me, Daisy?

There's a few of us going later on.

Do you mean it?

MRS.

PATMORE: Daisy, don't let it get cold!

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!

You bastard.

Poor old Madame Swan.

I don't know why we bother with fittings.

She always makes the same frock.

What do you want her to make?

(door closes) Something new and exciting.

Heavens, look at the time.

Not a minute to change, and Granny's invited herself for dinner.

(engine humming) Then she can jolly well wait.

(door closes) So women's rights begin at home?

I see.

Well, I'm all for that.

(chuckling) I'm just off, Mr.

Carson.

According to the wine book, we should still have six dozen of this, but I'm beggared if I can find much more than four.

Look again before you jump to any nasty conclusions.

Long time since you last took a night off.

You don't think I ought to stay, do you?

Certainly not-- be off with you.

And Anna's in bed with a cold, so I'm afraid it's all down to you.

Go.

(calliope music playing, people talking in background) Thought I'd have a go before I went home.

How about you?

(coins jingling) Thank you.

Thank you.

Do you know if your father's doing anything this evening?

He's not coming to the fair.

Seriously.

Having dinner with his family.

(ball clatters) Could I look in afterwards?

May I ask why?

(children laughing) Your grandmother paid me a visit this afternoon, and I... Well, never mind, but I would like to see him.

(music continues) Granny came to see you?

Is it all part of the Great Matter?

(music continues) So are you enjoying your new life?

Yes, I think so.

I know my work seems very trivial to you.

Not necessarily.

Sometimes I rather envy you, having somewhere to go every morning.

I thought that made me very middle-class.

You should learn to forget what I say.

I know I do.

How about you?

Is your life proving satisfactory?

Apart from the Great Matter, of course.

Women like me don't have a life.

We choose clothes and pay calls and work for charity and do the Season.

But really, we're stuck in a waiting room until we marry.

I've made you angry.

My life makes me angry.

Not you.

(music continues, people talking in background) CARSON: I never put the Sauterne on ice.

Mrs.

Hughes goes out for one night and we all fall to pieces!

THOMAS: Mr.

Carson, we wondered if we could walk down to the fair after dinner.

(sputters) I suppose so, but don't be too late.

MRS.

PATMORE: That's right.

Where do you think she's gone?

None of your business.

Like most of what goes on round here.

(pan drops) Oh!

Well caught, that man!

Though I say it myself.

Thanks ever so.

Yes?

I ran into Cousin Matthew in the village.

He wanted to call on you after dinner.

Apparently, Granny's been to see him.

Did you tell him she's coming here this evening?

I didn't know she was.

When he arrives, do your best to keep her in the drawing room.

Well, I'd like to see you try.

(laughs) (sheep bleating) VIOLET (in next room): Sybil, Sybil, darling, why would you want to go to a real school?

You're not a doctor's daughter.

But nobody learns anything from a governess.

Apart from French and how to curtsy.

VIOLET: Well, what else do you need?

SYBIL: Well, there's... VIOLET: Or were you thinking of a career in banking?

SYBIL: No, but it is a noble profession.

CORA: Things are different in America.

VIOLET: I know-- they live in wigwams.

And when they come out of them, they go to school.

(whispering): If you wait in the library, I'll tell Papa you're here.

Thank you.

(door closes) (people talking, children laughing and squealing) (children cheering and laughing) (calliope music playing, people exclaiming) (people exclaim) JOE: Elsie?

(people applauding) It is Elsie, isn't it?

It is, though there's very few left to call me that, Joe Burns.

Well, I'm flattered that I'm one of them.

(music continues) Where's Thomas?

I'm afraid I let some of the servants go down to the fair, milord.

I didn't know we'd have any visitors tonight.

Well, that's all right.

They don't have much fun-- you should join them.

(clears throat) So, what did you say to Mama?

I haven't spoken to her since her visit, but I have looked through every source and I can't find one reason on which to base a challenge.

I could have told you that.

I'm not quite sure how to phrase it when I tell her.

She shouldn't have put you on the spot like that.

It was unkind.

I'm afraid she'll think I've failed because I don't want to succeed.

She will think that, but I don't.

And nor will Cora.

Of course, it's impossible for Mary.

She must resent me so bitterly.

I don't blame her.

Yes, it must have been hard for you when Ivy died.

(exhales) Took some getting used to.

What about your son?

Do you see much of him?

Peter?

No.

I would have given him a share of the farm if he wanted it, but he's joined the army.

Well, I never!

Aye, he seems happy, but it's left me on me own.

(people talking in background) WAITRESS: Shall I take your plates, then?

Thank you.

Thank you.

So how has life treated you?

Oh, I can't complain.

I haven't traveled, but I've seen a bit of life, and no mistake.

I notice you call yourself "Mrs."

Housekeepers and cooks are always "Mrs."

You know better than anyone I haven't changed my name.

(chuckles) Well, I know you wouldn't change it to Burns when you had the chance.

(chuckles) O'BRIEN: You shouldn't have eaten with us.

The chauffeur always eats in his own cottage.

Steady on.

You can cut him a bit of slack on his second day.

I'm waiting to take old Lady Grantham home.

Even then, Taylor never ate with us.

You're taking advantage of Mrs.

Hughes' absence.

What are you doing?

I'm sorting the collars.

Removing the ones that have come to an end.

What happens to His Lordship's old clothes?

What's it to you?

Clothes are a valet's perk, not a chauffeur's.

I get some, but most of it goes into the missionary barrel.

(sighs) I know it's meant to be kind, but I can think of better ways of helping the needy than sending stiff collars to the Equator.

(laughs) I thought Anna might have come down for her dinner.

And show she's ready to start work again?

Not a chance.

Is she still in bed, then?

She is.

While I'm sat here, sewing like a cursed princess in a fairy tale, and not down at the fair with the others.

Would you like me to ask Branson to bring the car round, milady?

Where's Robert?

He can't have been drinking port since we left.

He'd be under the table by now.

His Lordship's in the library.

VIOLET: All alone?

Oh, how sad.

No, he's... We can say goodbye to Papa for you, Granny.

He's what?

He's with Mr.

Crawley, milady.

The question is, what do I say to Cousin Violet?

Oh, don't worry about that-- I can handle her.

VIOLET: Really?

Well, if you can, you must have learned to very recently.

(knock at door in distance) (door opens) (knock at door) BATES (softly): Anna.

Mr.

Bates?

Can you open the door?

(quietly): I daren't.

No one can open that door except Mrs.

Hughes.

BATES: Just for a moment-- I've brought you something.

(lock turns) I don't know what... Shh.

(chuckles) (door opens) (lock turns) (engine idling) What I don't understand in all this is you.

You seem positively glad to see Mary disinherited!

You speak as if we had a choice.

Thank you, Branson.

I'm worn out.

Tell Lady Mary and Mr.

Crawley I've gone to bed.

Shall I tell them now, milord?

No.

Wait until they ring.

JOE: I like this one.

(exhales) Yes, sir!

I ought to start back.

This is very late for me.

Aw, not yet.

Hoopla!

It's a long time since I've had a girl to show off for at the fair.

(chuckles) (exhales) So I take it you never get lonely?

(sighs) Well, that's working in a big house.

Though there are times when you yearn for a bit of solitude.

(chuckles) MRS.

HUGHES: Oh!

MAN: We have a winner!

Ah, thank you.

Well, uh, something to remind you of me.

(laughs) I don't need help to remember you.

(calliope music playing, people talking in background) But what, what happens when you retire?

I should think I'll stay here.

They'll look after me.

Suppose they sell the estate.

Suppose there's a tidal wave.

Suppose we all die of the plague.

Suppose there's a war.

(both chuckling) THOMAS: What did I tell you?

She's found her Romeo.

It might be her brother.

She hasn't got a brother-- I would know it by now.

Just a sister in Lytham St.

Anne's.

You know everything, don't you?

(clicks tongue) (William scoffs) Everything, my foot.

You're hiding behind him, but he's not what you think he is.

Oh, go home, William, if you're going to be such a spoilsport.

All right, I will.

Come back!

She didn't mean it!

And you know what I'm asking?

You haven't asked anything yet.

(chuckles) But you know what it is, when I do.

I'm going to stop here at the pub until I hear from you.

Oh, and take your time.

I'd rather wait a week for the right answer than get a wrong one in a hurry.

Think about it carefully.

I will.

I promise you that.

(people exclaiming in background) To break the entail, we'd need a private bill in Parliament?

Even then, it would only be passed if the estate were in danger, which it's not.

And I mean nothing in all this.

On the contrary, you mean a great deal.

A very great deal.

(door opens) You rang, milady?

Yes, Carson.

Mr.

Crawley was just leaving.

Do you know where His Lordship is?

Gone to bed, milady.

He felt tired after he put Lady Grantham into the car.

I bet he did.

Thank you, Carson.

(door closes) I'm sorry, I wish I could think of something to say that would help.

There's nothing, but you mustn't let it trouble you.

It does trouble me.

It troubles me very much.

Then that will be my consolation prize.

Good night, Cousin Matthew.

Good night.

I hope I haven't kept you up too late.

I'm afraid we've interfered with your dinner.

It's been rather a chop-and-change evening downstairs.

Lady Grantham got off all right?

"All right" is an optimistic assessment, sir.

It's very difficult, Carson.

For her, for Lady Mary, for everyone.

It is, Mr.

Crawley.

But I appreciate your saying so.

Well, that's Her Greatness done and dusted for the night.

BATES: William?

You have a good night?

I'm off to bed.

Wait.

What happened?

Nothing-- doesn't matter.

BATES: How was your evening, Mrs.

Hughes?

Very enjoyable, thank you.

(door opens, others laughing) The others are just behind me, so you can lock up in a minute.

Well, I'll say good night.

Good night, Mrs.

Hughes.

'Night.

(laughing, talking in background) Good night, Mrs.

Hughes.

Good night.

(door closes) Good night, Mrs.

Hughes.

(softly): I was right when I said she was looking sparkly-eyed.

I beg your pardon, Thomas.

(others laughing) He can disapprove all he likes.

Mrs.

Hughes has got a fancy man.

(snorts) DAISY: Him, a fancy man?

Don't be so nasty, Daisy-- it doesn't suit you.

I reckon there's a job vacancy coming up.

Miss O'Brien, do you fancy a promotion?

(scoffs) Very droll.

If she's got a boyfriend, I'm a giraffe.

(knocks quietly) (door opens) Leave me alone, Mr.

Bates.

I know you mean well, but let me be.

What chance did he have, up against a champion?

Now, you listen, you filthy little rat.

If you don't lay off, I will punch your shining teeth through the back of your skull.

Is this supposed to frighten me, Mr.

Bates?

Because if it is, it isn't working.

I'm sorry, but it's just not working.

(birds chirping) What do you look like?

Daisy, what do you think he looks like?

Do your buttons up.

Go on, then.

(exhales) I knew they would want to see you.

Well, it's your reference what's done it.

But how am I going to get there?

They won't let me take a day off.

You're going to be ill.

They can't stop you being ill.

What?

No one has seen Anna for a whole day.

They won't notice if you vanish for a couple of hours.

MARY: The only one who never sticks up for me in all this is you.

Why is that?

ROBERT: You are my darling daughter and I love you, hard as it is for an Englishman to say the words.

Well, then.

If I had made my own fortune and bought Downton for myself, it should be yours without question, but I did not.

My fortune is the work of others who labored to build a great dynasty.

Do I have the right to destroy their work or impoverish that dynasty?

I am a custodian, my dear, not an owner.

I must strive to be worthy of the task I have been set.

If I could take Mama's money out of the estate, Downton would have to be sold to pay for it.

Is that what you want?

To see Matthew a landless peer with a title, but no means to pay for it?

(sighs) So I am just to find a husband and get out of the way?

You could stay here if you married Matthew.

You know my character, Father.

I'd never marry any man that I was told to.

I'm stubborn.

I wish I wasn't, but I am.

TOM: Will you have your own way, do you think?

With the frock?

Only I couldn't help overhearing yesterday.

And from what Her Ladyship said, it sounded as if you support women's rights.

I suppose I do.

Because I'm quite political.

In fact, I brought some pamphlets that I thought might interest you.

About the vote.

Thank you.

But please don't mention this to my father.

Or my grandmother.

One whiff of reform and she hears the rattle of the guillotine.

It seems rather unlikely, a revolutionary chauffeur.

Maybe.

But I'm a Socialist, not a revolutionary.

And I won't always be a chauffeur.

Mrs.

Crawley.

How nice.

You're busy-- we can come back later.

Molesley?

What are you doing here?

Are you, are you ill?

CLARKSON: Poor Mr.

Molesley.

How's it going?

The solution doesn't seem to make it any better.

My imagination is running riot.

MOLESLEY: I've got erysipelas, Your Ladyship.

Oh!

Oh, I am sorry.

Mrs.

Crawley tells me she's recommended nitrate of silver and tincture of steel.

Well, is she making a suit of armor?

But I take it there's been no improvement.

(stammers): Not really.

And you're sure it's erysipelas?

That is Mrs.

Crawley's diagnosis.

What it is to have medical knowledge.

It has its uses.

Mmm.

I see your father has been making changes at home.

He has, m'lady.

He's got no use for the herb garden, now my mother's gone, so he's turned it to grass.

And you've been helping him?

I have.

Mm-hmm.

Grubbing out the old rue hedge?

How did you know that?

Because this is not erysipelas.

This is a rue allergy.

If Molesley wears gardening gloves, it'll be gone in a week.

Please don't think we're ungrateful for your enthusiasm, Mrs.

Crawley, but there comes a time when things are best left to the professionals.

But, but I... VIOLET: And now I really, I really must go.

(Clarkson clears throat) Good day-- thank you.

Thank you, Your Ladyship.

(chuckling) (birds chirping) I hope Cousin Violet has recovered from last night.

Whatever she says, my mother is as strong as an ox, and it's high time she let go of her scheme for upsetting everything.

Time we all did.

I can't deny I'm pleased to hear it.

Are you beginning to see a future here, then?

In a way, this latest business has forced me to recognize that I do want Downton to be my future.

I'm glad.

You must have thought me an awful prig when I first arrived.

(chuckling) Not a prig.

Just a man thrust into something he never wanted or envisaged.

MATTHEW: I could only see the absurdity of the whole thing.

I'm sorry.

ROBERT: Well, there are absurdities involved, as I know well enough.

Possibilities, too, and I was blind to them.

I was determined not to let it change me.

It was absurd.

If you don't change, you die.

Do you think so?

I'm not sure.

Sometimes I think I hate change.

Well, at least we can comfort ourselves that this will still be here.

Because we saved it.

DAISY: Thomas is lovely, idn't he?

He's funny and handsome, and he's got such lovely teeth.

He's not for you, Daisy.

Course not, he's too good for me.

I know that.

No, he's not too good.

What, then?

He's not the boy for you, and you're not the girl for him.

Idn't that what I just said?

(scoffs softly) And why would he be, when he's seen and done so much, and I've been nowhere and done nothing?

Perhaps Thomas has seen and done more than is good for him.

He's not a ladies' man.

Well, idn't it a blessed relief?

Daisy, Thomas is a troubled soul.

I don't know what you mean, Mrs.

Patmore.

(moans) Nothing.

I don't mean anything.

Except if I don't get the ice cream started, they'll be dining at midnight.

(Sybil gasps softly) Golly, my corset's tight.

Anna, when you've done that, would you be an angel and loosen it a bit?

Mmm.

The start of the slippery slope.

I'm not putting on weight.

It didn't shrink in the drawer.

Are you coming down?

I don't know why we bother with corsets.

Men don't wear them and they look perfectly normal in their clothes.

Not all of them.

She's just showing off.

She'll be on about the vote in a minute.

If you mean do I think women should have the vote, of course I do.

I hope you won't chain yourself to the railings and end up being force-fed semolina.

What do you think, Anna?

I think those women are very brave.

SYBIL: Hear, hear.

ROBERT: How did you get on with your dressmaker?

Find anything?

I did.

And she says she can have it done by Friday.

ROBERT: I'm sorry I couldn't come, but I didn't want to put Matthew off.

SYBIL: Were you pleased with the work on the cottages?

ROBERT: I think they're making a very good job of them.

You must all go and see.

CORA: You'll restore a few every year from now on?

It was Matthew's idea.

Old Cripps was rather reluctant, but I'm pleased we went forward.

EDITH: I suppose it's worth it.

SYBIL: Of course it is, because of the people who live in them.

You'll be glad to hear that Matthew's conscience is much more energetic than mine.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed.

I've rather a headache.

CORA: Of course-- should I bring you something for it?

No, I'll be perfectly fine if I can just lie down.

Mary.

(crying) Oh, my darling.

(door closes) What is it?

You heard him.

Matthew this, Matthew that.

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew!

(gasps) Oh, Mother, don't you see?

He has a son now.

Of course he didn't argue with the entail.

Why would he, when he's got what he always wanted?

Your father loves you very much.

He wouldn't fight for me, though.

He wouldn't fight for you because he knew he couldn't win.

Well, you're no better.

What?

You don't care about Matthew getting everything because you don't think I'm worthy of it.

(softly): Mary!

I wish you'd just admit it.

I'm a lost soul to you.

I took a lover with no thought of marriage!

A Turk!

Oh, think of that!

Oh, my dear.

(crying) Don't worry, Mama.

(sniffles) You can go down now.

Everything will look better in the morning.

Isn't that what you usually say?

I say it because it's usually true.

Papa will wonder where you are.

(sniffling) (sighs) Don't quarrel with Matthew.

Why shouldn't I?

Because one day, you may need him.

Oh, I see.

When I've ruined myself, I must have a powerful protector to hide behind.

(birds chirping) (playing slow ballad) MRS.

HUGHES: I'd tell you off.

But I like to hear you play.

Where are they all?

Busy, I suppose.

Haven't you got anything to do?

Yes, I have.

Of course I have.

You mustn't let Thomas get you down.

He's just jealous.

Everyone likes you better than him.

Not everyone.

Then she's a foolish girl and she doesn't deserve you.

Though why am I encouraging you?

Forget all that, for ten years at least.

You're a kind woman, Mrs.

Hughes.

I don't know how this house would run without you.

I don't, truly.

Stop flanneling and get on, before I betray you to Mr.

Carson.

(exhales) Is there anything more thrilling than a new frock?

(softly): I suppose not, m'lady.

You shall have one, too.

I thought this would be suitable for your interview.

I won't be wearing it, m'lady.

Of course you will.

We have to make you look like a successful professional woman.

What is it?

What's happened?

Well, I won't wear it because I'm not going.

They've canceled the appointment.

They've found someone "more suited for the post and better qualified."

This time.

Let's face it.

There will never be anyone less suited for the post or worse qualified than I am.

That isn't true.

You'll see-- we're not giving up.

No one hits the bull's-eye with the first arrow.

(footsteps approaching in hall) (door opens) I've put out the Rundell candlesticks for dinner tonight.

(people talking in background) Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll come back later.

No, stay, please.

I've got something I'd like to talk to you about, if you've a minute.

Before I first came here as head housemaid, I was walking out with a farmer.

When I told him I'd taken a job at Downton, he asked me to marry him.

I was a farmer's daughter from Argyll, so I knew the life.

He was very nice, but then I came here and I, I did well, and I didn't want to give it up.

So I told him no, and he married someone else.

She died three years ago, and last month, he wrote, asking to see me again.

And I agreed, because all this time I've wondered.

Go on.

(exhales) I met him the other night.

We had dinner at the Grantham Arms and after, he took me to the fair.

And he was horrible and fat and red-faced and you couldn't think what you ever saw in him.

He was still a nice man.

He is still a nice man.

(chuckling): Well, he was a bit red-faced, and his suit was a little tight, but none of that matters.

In the real ways, he hadn't changed.

And he proposed again and you accepted?

MRS.

HUGHES: In many ways, I wanted to accept.

But I'm not that farm girl anymore.

I was flattered, of course, but... I've changed, Mr.

Carson.

Life's altered you, as it's altered me.

And what would be the point of living if we didn't let life change us?

You won't be leaving, then?

(knock at door, door opens) (Mrs.

Patmore talking in distance) You'd better come.

Mrs.

Patmore's on the rampage.

She wants the key to the store cupboard.

You know how angry she gets she hasn't got one of her own.

Nor will she have.

Not while I'm housekeeper here.

Leaving?

When would I ever find the time?

(Mrs.

Patmore exclaiming) What ever is holding Sybil up?

She was going on about her new frock.

(exhales, sighs) We'd better go in without her, or it's not fair on Mrs.

Patmore.

Oh, is her cooking so precisely timed?

You couldn't tell.

I think her food is delicious.

Naturally.

(laughs) (laughs) Good evening, everyone!

(birds chirping) (brush sweeping) (tools clatter) (yelps, laughs) You made me jump.

Daisy, what is the matter with you?

You're all thumbs.

Sorry.

I hate this room.

Well, why?

What's the matter with it?

ANNA: Daisy?

(exhales sharply, tools clatter) (brush sweeping) Who's that from, Papa?

You seem very absorbed.

Your Aunt Rosamond.

Anything interesting?

Nothing to trouble you with.

Poor Aunt Rosamond.

All alone in that big house.

I feel so sorry for her.

I don't-- all alone, with plenty of money, in a house in Eaton Square?

(chuckling): I can't imagine anything better.

Really, Mary, I wish you wouldn't talk like that.

There will come a day when someone thinks you mean what you say.

SYBIL: I saw another opening for a secretary and I applied.

But you never said.

I didn't want you to be disappointed.

I thought you'd given up.

I'll never give up, and nor will you.

Things are changing for women, Gwen.

Not just the vote, but our lives.

But it's tomorrow at 10:00.

Last time, we waited for weeks and weeks, and, and this one's tomorrow.

Then we must be ready by tomorrow, mustn't we?

ISOBEL: I thought I'd write to Edith to settle our promised church visit.

If you want.

Well, we can't just throw her over when she made such an effort to arrange the last one.

It's all in your head.

I don't think so.

Then she's barking up the wrong tree.

ISOBEL: Poor Edith.

I hope there's a right tree for her somewhere.

Ma'am, I was wondering if I might take some time this afternoon to help in the village hall.

Why?

What's happening?

It's the flower show, sir, next Saturday.

I'll give my father a hand with his stall, if I may.

Of course you must go.

And so, I'm afraid, must I.

(kisses) (plates clanking in background) Is Mr.

Carson about?

I don't think so.

I was just looking for him myself.

(exhales) Busy?

I'm just trying to sort out the wretched flower show.

I've had a letter from Rosamond.

Apparently the word is going round London that Evelyn Napier has given up any thought of Mary.

Your dear sister is always such a harbinger of joy.

No, as if... As if Mary had somehow been found wanting in her character.

Well, I don't believe Mr.

Napier would have said that.

Well, neither do I, really, but... She ought to be married.

Talk to her.

(chuckles) She never listens to me.

If she did, she'd marry Matthew.

What about Anthony Strallan?

Anthony Strallan is at least my age and as dull as paint.

I doubt she'd want to sit next to him at dinner, let alone marry him.

She has to marry someone, Robert.

And if this is what's being said in London, she has to marry soon.

(people talking in background) You shouldn't do that in here.

WILLIAM: I don't like being in the pantry all alone.

Mr.

Carson won't mind, he's gone into the village.

THOMAS: He'll mind if I tell him.

That's pretty.

Do you think so?

She wants it put onto a new shirt, but it's a bit old-fashioned to my taste.

Oh, no, it's lovely.

Have you recovered, Daisy?

What from?

She had a bit of a turn when we were in Lady Mary's room, didn't you?

I'm fine, thank you.

What sort of a turn?

Did you see a ghost?

Will you leave her alone if she doesn't want to talk about it?

THOMAS: I've often wondered if this place is haunted.

It ought to be.

By the spirits of maids and footmen who died in slavery?

BATES: But not, in Thomas's case, from overwork.

O'BRIEN: Hm.

(plates clanking, Mrs.

Patmore talking in background) Come on, Daisy, what was it?

I don't know, I was thinking, first we had the Titanic... Don't keep harping back to that.

I know it was a while ago, but we knew 'em.

I think of how I laid the fires for Mr.

Patrick, but he drowned in them icy waters.

(muttering): For God's sake.

And then there's the Turkish gentleman.

It just seems there's been too much death in the house.

What's that got to do with Lady Mary's bedroom?

Nothing-- nothing at all.

(people talking in background) (footsteps approaching) Afternoon, ma'am.

When do you put that magnificent display of prizes on show?

Oh, not till the day itself.

I remember a superb cup from last year.

The Grantham Cup.

It was donated by the late Lord Grantham for the best bloom in the village.

And who won it?

I did.

Well done.

And the year before?

Her Ladyship won that one, too.

ISOBEL: Heavens!

How thrilling.

And before that?

You've met my father.

Good afternoon, Mr.

Molesley.

What are you showing this year?

Oh, this and that.

MOLESLEY: Only the finest roses in the village.

ISOBEL: Really?

What an achievement.

It's a wonderful area for roses.

We're very lucky.

We'll see some beautiful examples right across the show.

Won't we, Mr.

Molesley?

If you say so, Your Ladyship.

I'm in enough trouble as it is.

Why, what's happened?

Mr.

Bates saw me nicking a bottle of wine.

Has he told Mr.

Carson?

Not yet, but he will when he's feeling spiteful.

I wish we could be shot of him.

Then think of something quick.

Turn the tables on him before he has a chance to nail you.

I thought you went to bed hours ago.

I was writing a note for Lynch.

I need the governess cart tomorrow.

Oh?

I'm going to Malton.

Oh, don't risk the traffic in Malton, not now every Tom, Dick, and Harry seems to have a motor.

Hardly.

Last time I was there, there were five cars parked in the marketplace, and another three drove past while I was waiting.

Get Branson to take you in the car.

Neither of us are using it.

I thought I'd pop in on old Mrs.

Stuart.

Will you tell Mama if I forget?

(kisses) (people talking, plates clanking in background) You're late this morning.

The library grate needed a real going-over.

Are any of them down yet?

Lady Sybil's in the dining room.

I'll start with her room, then.

Daisy, you know when you were talking about the feeling of death in the house?

I was just being silly.

I found myself wondering about the connection between the poor Turkish gentleman, Mr.

Pamuk, and Lady Mary's room.

Only you were saying how you felt so uncomfortable in there.

Well, I've, I've got to get on.

I'm late enough as it is.

MATTHEW: Hello.

Is everything all right?

Oh, hello!

I am about to send a telegram.

Oh.

Papa's sister is always nagging him to send supplies to London, and then we cable her so her butler can be at King's Cross to meet them.

It's idiotic, really.

Is this Lady Rosamond Painswick?

You have done your homework.

She wrote to welcome me into the family, which I thought pretty generous, given the circumstances.

It's easy to be generous when you have nothing to lose.

So, are you doing any more church visiting with Edith?

My mother's trying to set something up.

Well, watch out.

(bicycle bell rings) I think she has big plans for you.

Then she's in for an equally big disappointment.

(dog barking in distance) Is it all right to do the fire?

ANNA: Why are you so late?

I went back to my room after I'd woken everyone, and I just shut my eyes for a moment.

I've been trying to catch up ever since.

ANNA: Have you had any breakfast?

Not a crumb.

Here.

What?

You can't take her biscuits.

She never eats them.

None of them do.

Just thrown away and changed every evening.

Thanks.

She won't mind, anyway.

She's nice, Lady Sybil.

(exhales) Gwen?

(gasps) CARSON: May I ask why you're sitting on Lady Sybil's bed?

Well, you see, I had a turn, like a burst of sickness, just sudden-like.

I had to sit down.

It's true.

Well, you'd better go and lie down.

I'll tell Mrs.

Hughes.

Well, I don't need to interrupt her morning.

I'm sure I'll be fine, if I could just put my feet up.

And how many bedrooms have you still got to do?

Just one-- Lady Edith.

And you can manage on your own?

Well, she's no use to man nor beast in that state.

Go on.

Shoo.

Daisy, may I ask why you're holding Lady Sybil's biscuit jar?

(stammers) I was just polishing it before I put it back.

See that you do.

(footsteps retreating) MRS.

PATMORE: I'm sorry, m'lady, but I can't do more than my best.

Is there some difficulty, Your Ladyship?

Dear Mrs.

Hughes, as you know, we're giving a dinner on Friday for Sir Anthony Strallan.

Yes, m'lady.

Well, it seems he's particularly fond of a certain new pudding.

It's called Apple Charlotte.

Do you know it?

I, I'm not sure.

His sister, Mrs.

Chetwood, sent me the receipt.

I'm trying to persuade Mrs.

Patmore to make it.

And I'm trying to persuade Her Ladyship that I have already planned the dinner with her and I can't change it now.

Why not?

Because everything's been ordered and prepared.

Well, there's nothing here that looks very complicated.

Apples, lemons, butter... I cannot work from a new receipt at a moment's notice!

DAISY: But I can read it to you, if that's the problem.

Problem?

Who mentioned a problem?

How dare you say such a thing in front of Her Ladyship!

Very well.

We'll try it another time, when you've had longer to prepare.

We'll stay with the raspberry meringue.

And very nice it'll be, too.

I'm sure.

MRS.

PATMORE (softly): Have you taken leave of your senses?

(continuing in background) I'm so sorry about that, m'lady.

Never mind, I was asking a lot.

Do look after that girl.

Daisy?

Oh, she's used to it-- she'll be all right.

I wonder.

Mrs.

Patmore looks ready to eat her alive.

(horse nickers) I had to let the skirt down a little, but I can put it back.

No, it's yours.

What will happen if one of the maids finds your room's empty?

Oh, but it would only be Anna, and she wouldn't give me away.

She's like a sister.

She'd never betray me.

Well, then, she's not like my sisters.

Walk on.

Shall I give you a hand?

Ah, would you?

It takes half the time with two.

I always feel a bit sorry for Lady Edith.

Me, too.

Although I don't know why, when you think what she's got and we haven't.

Mrs.

Hughes said she was after the other heir, Mr.

Patrick Crawley, the one who drowned.

That was different.

She was in love with him.

What happened?

Well, she never got a look in.

He was all set up to marry Lady Mary.

Then he's a braver man than I am, Gunga Din.

Sad to think about.

It's always sad when you love someone who doesn't love you back.

No matter who you are.

No, I mean it's sad that he died.

Oh.

Yes.

Very sad.

He was nice.

Well, thank you for that.

Much appreciated.

My pleasure.

Perhaps Mr.

Patrick did love her back, he just couldn't say.

Why ever not?

Sometimes we're not at liberty to speak.

Sometimes it wouldn't be right.

Take a seat.

(typewriters clacking in background) (door opens) (door closes) (typewriter clacking) (door closes) (insects and birds chirping) VIOLET: The flower show?

Oh, I thought I was in for another telling off about the hospital.

No, this time, it's the flower show.

I've been to see old Mr.

Molesley's garden, and his roses are the most beautiful I've ever laid eyes on.

Go on.

You may not know it, but I believe the committee feel obliged to give you the cup for the best bloom as a kind of local tradition.

No, no, I, I do not know that.

I thought I usually won the prize for best bloom in the village because my gardener had grown the best bloom in the village.

Yes.

But you don't usually win, do you?

You always win.

Yes.

I have been very fortunate in that regard.

But surely, when Mr.

Molesley's garden is so remarkable, and he is so very proud of his roses... You talk of Mr.

Molesley's pride.

What about my gardener's pride?

Is he to be sacrificed on the altar of Molesley's ambition?

All I'm asking is that you release them from any obligation to let you win.

Why not just tell them to choose whichever flower is best?

But that is precisely what they already know.

And do.

SYBIL: Can you help?

I shall be so grateful.

Our horse has cast a shoe.

Is there a smithy nearby?

Ah, you can try old Crump in the next village.

BOTH: Thank you.

SYBIL: See?

Help is at hand.

And at least it happened on the way home.

Well, they'll be worried about you, and if they check on me, I'm finished.

You don't know what's happened to Lady Sybil, do you?

I've got the changes ready for the other two, but there's no sign of her.

(door closing) Don't you start.

I've had Her Majesty on at me all afternoon.

Mr.

Carson says he'll fetch the police if she's not back soon.

Sorry, miss, but Mr.

Crump's staying over at the Skelton estate tonight.

He's working there all week.

Is there anyone else?

Not that I know of.

(birds chirping) SYBIL: Come on, Dragon, come on!

Dragon, if you don't move now, I'll have you boiled for glue!

(yelps) CORA: What if she's overturned?

What if she's lying in a ditch somewhere?

I'm sure she'll be back in the shake of a lamb's tail.

The truth is, they're all getting too old for a mother's control.

They're growing up.

They've grown up.

They need their own establishments.

I'm sure they'll all get plenty of offers.

(scoffs) No one ever warns you about bringing up daughters.

You think it's going to be like "Little Women."

Instead, they're at each other's throats from dawn till dusk.

You look done in.

I'll bring you some food up later, when we've finished dinner.

Where were you?

You came up, then?

Course I did-- I had to change for the afternoon.

Did you cover for me?

What do you think?

I don't suppose this had anything to do with Lady Sybil.

Oh, Anna, it was a nightmare.

I don't know how I got in without being seen.

I'm sure I left a trail of mud up the stairs.

So, did you get the job?

Well, we'll have to wait and see.

(chuckles) (footsteps approaching) Sorry to bother you, m'lady, but your mother wanted you to know Lady Sybil's back.

She's changing now, so dinner won't be late after all.

What happened to her?

The horse went lame.

Is there anything else?

There is something that's been troubling me.

You remember the Turkish gentleman, Mr.

Pamuk?

The one who died, all sudden-like?

Of course I remember.

Well, it's Daisy, m'lady.

The kitchen maid?

Only she's been talking recently as if she had ideas about Mr.

Pamuk's death.

What sort of ideas?

Well, I've no proof, and maybe I'm wrong, but I've a sense she knows something but won't say what.

Something involving Lady Mary?

Well, how absurd.

What could she know?

Whatever it is, she won't say.

Not to us, anyway.

Have you spoken to Lady Mary about this?

I didn't like to, m'lady.

It seemed impertinent somehow.

But I thought someone in the family ought to know about it.

Quite right.

Bring the girl to my room.

Tomorrow, after breakfast.

(footsteps approaching) What did she want?

Nothing.

Just a message from Mama to say that Sybil had turned up alive.

Poor darling.

She had to walk for miles.

I don't think I'd have got down, however lame the horse.

No, I don't believe you would.

(birds chirping) I couldn't say, m'lady.

I don't know what Miss O'Brien means.

I didn't see nothing.

Well, not much.

O'Brien, I wonder if you might leave us.

Now.

It's Daisy, isn't it?

Yes, m'lady.

I'm sure you see O'Brien only acted as she did because she is concerned.

I suppose so, m'lady.

She seems to think that you are in possession of some knowledge that is uncomfortable for you.

(crying) Because if that is the case, then I don't think it fair on you.

Why should you be burdened with Mary's secret?

(crying) My dear, my heart goes out to you.

It really does.

Oh, there, there.

(crying) (sniffling) You've been carrying too heavy a burden for too long.

Just tell me, and I promise you'll feel better.

(crying softly) (people talking in background) VIOLET: You seem well prepared.

They'll add a few more flowers before we open in the morning, but I think we're nearly there.

Mm.

Do look at Mr.

Molesley's display.

He's worked so hard.

They're rather marvelous, aren't they?

MARY: Lovely.

Well done, Mr.

Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

I think everyone is to be congratulated.

It's splendid.

ISOBEL: But do look at these roses.

Have you ever seen the like?

My dear Mrs.

Crawley believes I am profiting from an unfair advantage.

Oh?

VIOLET: Mm-- she feels in the past, I've been given the cup merely as a matter of routine rather than merit.

Mm, that's rather ungallant, Mother.

I'm sure when we see Cousin Violet's roses, it'll be hard to think they could be bettered.

Hard, but not impossible.

You are quite wonderful, the way you see room for improvement wherever you look.

(inhales) I never knew such reforming zeal.

I take that as a compliment.

I must have said it wrong.

(laughs) (people talking in background) Poor Granny.

She's not used to being challenged.

Nor is Mother.

I think we should let them settle it between them.

(chuckles) So, are you interested in flowers?

(chuckles) I'm interested in the village.

In fact, I'm on my way to inspect the cottages.

You know what all work and no play did for Jack.

But you think I'm a dull boy, anyway, don't you?

I play, too.

I'm coming up for dinner tonight.

I suspect I'm there to balance the numbers.

Is it in aid of anything?

Not that I know of.

Just a couple of dreary neighbors, that's all.

Maybe I'll shine by comparison.

VIOLET: Mary, we're going.

Maybe you will.

(people talking in background) (knock at door) I'm coming.

Does this brooch work?

I can't decide.

Charming.

Oh, dear, is it another scolding?

(chuckling): Of course not.

You're too grown up to scold these days.

Heavens.

Then it's really serious.

I'd like you to look after Sir Anthony Strallan tonight.

He's a nice, decent man.

His position may not be quite like Papa's, but it would still make you a force for good in the county.

Mama, not again.

How many times am I to be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner?

As many times as it takes.

I turned down Matthew Crawley.

Is it likely I'd marry Strallan when I wouldn't marry him?

I am glad you've come to think more highly of Cousin Matthew.

That's not the point.

No.

The point is, when you refused Matthew, you were the daughter of an earl with an unsullied reputation.

Now you are damaged goods.

(sighing): Mama.

Somehow-- I don't know how-- there's a rumor in London that you are not virtuous.

What?!

Does Papa know about this?

He knows it and he dismisses it, because, unlike you and me, he does not know that it is true.

Let's hope it's just unkind gossip.

Because if anyone heard about... Kemal?

My lover.

Kemal Pamuk.

Exactly.

If it gets around, and you're not already married, every door in London will be slammed in your face.

Mama.

The world is changing.

Not that much, and not fast enough for you.

I know you mean to help.

I know you love me.

But I also know what I'm capable of, and 40 years of boredom and duty just isn't possible for me.

I'm sorry.

I do love you, and I want to help.

I'm a lost cause, Mama.

Leave me to manage my own affairs.

Why not concentrate on Edith?

She needs all the help she can get.

You mustn't be unkind to Edith.

She has fewer advantages than you.

Fewer?

(floor creaks) She has none at all.

Open the oven!

(yelps, screaming) What's happened?

It's that bloomin' Daisy!

I said she'd be the death of me, and now my word's come true!

I didn't do nothing!

Come and sit down.

Get away!

Get back to the stables!

(cat meows) Well, what'll you serve now?

Them, of course.

I haven't got anything else.

ANNA: Daisy give us a hand, get that cloth.

(dishes clanking) (whimpers) ANNA: What's the matter with that?

Are you sure?

Shouldn't we tell?

Certainly not.

Is the remove ready to go up?

ANNA: Here we are.

Daisy, give him a hand with the vegetables.

They're up in the servery, in the warmer.

Well, I'm glad I don't have to eat them.

What the eye can't see, the heart won't grieve over.

(talking softly) STRALLAN: Mm, there's no doubt about it.

The next few years in farming are going to be about mechanization.

That's the test, and we're going to have to meet it.

Don't you agree, Lady Mary?

(conversations continue) Yes, of course.

EDITH: Sir Anthony, it must be so hard to meet the challenge of the future, and yet be fair to your employees.

That is the point, precisely.

We can't fight progress, but we must find ways to soften the blow.

I should love to see one of the new harvesters, if you would ever let me.

We don't have one here.

I shall be delighted.

(conversations continue) Oh, just a minute.

I don't like to put it on earlier.

It sinks in and spoils the effect.

(conversations continue) (softly): Mama has released me, thank God.

Sir Anthony seems nice enough.

If you want to talk farming and foxes by the hour.

(conversations continue) How are the cottages?

They're coming on wonderfully.

I'd love to show you.

Obviously, it's an act of faith at this stage.

Mm, yes.

Oh, good God!

(gagging) What on earth?

I do apologize, Lady Grantham.

But I had a mouthful of salt.

What?

(Strallan coughing) Everyone, put down your forks.

Carson, remove this.

Bring fruit, bring cheese, bring anything to take this taste away.

Sir Anthony, I am so sorry.

(laughing) ROBERT: Fains I be Mrs.

Patmore's kitchen maid when the news gets out.

SYBIL: Poor girl.

We ought to send in a rescue party.

You must think us very disorganized.

No, not at all.

These things happen.

(both laughing) (sobbing) ANNA: Hey, come on.

It's not that bad.

Nobody's died.

MRS.

PATMORE: I don't understand it.

It must have been that Daisy.

She's muddled everything up before.

But I never... Don't worry, Daisy.

You're not in the line of fire here.

I know that pudding!

I chose it 'cause I know it!

Which is why you wouldn't let Her Ladyship have the pudding she wanted, because you didn't know it.

Exactly.

(crying): I don't see how it happened.

Come on, everyone.

Let's give Mrs.

Patmore some room to breathe.

You, too.

I don't think I should leave her.

Yes, you should.

Mr.

Carson knows what he's doing.

(stove door opens) Oh, don't do that.

Get William or the hall boy to do it.

It's beneath your dignity.

It won't kill me.

(door closes) Oh.

Now... All in your own good time.

I think you've got something to tell me, haven't you?

SYBIL: Poor Mrs.

Patmore.

Do you think you should go down and see her?

Tomorrow.

She needs time to recover her nerves.

I knew there was something going on.

It seems hard that poor Sir Anthony had to pay the price.

(imitating): Good God!

(laughing) As for you giggling like a ridiculous schoolgirl with Cousin Matthew, it was pathetic.

Oh, poor Edith.

I am sorry Cousin Matthew's proved a disappointment to you.

Who says he has?

Matthew.

He told me.

Oh, sorry.

Wasn't I supposed to know?

CORA: You were very helpful, Edith, looking after Sir Anthony.

You saved the day.

I enjoyed it.

We seemed to have a lot to talk about.

(softly): Spare me your boasting, please.

Now who's jealous?

Jealous?

Do you think I couldn't have that old booby if I wanted him?

Even you can't take every prize.

Is that a challenge?

If you like.

I could almost manage for a long time, knowing the kitchen and where everything was kept, even with that fool girl.

I think you might owe Daisy an apology.

Maybe.

I've had a lot to put up with, I can tell you.

And you've not been to a doctor?

I don't need a doctor to tell me I'm going blind.

A blind cook, Mr.

Carson.

(chuckling): Mm, what a joke.

Whoever heard of such a thing?

A blind cook.

(sobbing) ROBERT: I hope our salty pudding didn't spoil the evening for you.

On the contrary.

(both chuckle) I'm glad you and Mary are getting along.

There's no reason you can't be friends.

No, no reason at all.

I don't suppose there's any chance that you could sort of start again?

Life is full of surprises.

Ah, I've been waiting for you.

I found a book over here and I think it's just the thing to catch your interest.

Oh, really?

STRALLAN: I'm intrigued-- what could it be?

Well, I was looking in the library... I was very taken by what you were saying over dinner, about... STRALLAN: So right, Lady Mary.

How clever you are.

This is exactly what we have to be aware of.

(conversations continue) There's a section just here that I was rather unsure about.

I wonder if you could tell me... (conversations continue faintly) It seems we've both been thrown over for a bigger prize.

Heavens, is that the time?

You're not going?

The truth is, my head's splitting.

I don't want to spoil the party, so I'll slip away.

Would you make my excuses to your parents?

STRALLAN: I take it that's the ledger in the library.

Yeah.

Ah.

Excuse me, Sir Anthony.

Has Mr.

Crawley left?

Yes, m'lady.

But what about the car?

Branson can't have brought it round so quickly.

Uh, he said he'd rather walk, m'lady.

Thank you.

Mary can be such a child.

What do you mean, darling?

ROBERT She thinks if you put a toy down, it'll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.

What are you talking about?

(exhales) Never mind.

(talking in background) My word, Molesley, splendid roses, as usual.

Well done.

Thank you, Your Lordship.

All the stalls are set out very well this year.

CORA: This is enchanting.

Do we grow this?

I doubt if you've got that one, Your Ladyship.

I've only just found it meself.

Is it a secret?

Or could you tell Mr.

Brocket?

I'd be glad to, m'lady.

He should come and see the rose garden.

He could give us some ideas.

ROBERT: Old Molseley's a champion.

Or he would be, in a fairer world.

Don't you start.

I'm afraid I've been annoying Cousin Violet on that score.

If Molesley deserves the first prize for his flowers, the judges will give it to him.

They wouldn't dare.

Really, Robert, you make me so annoyed.

Isn't it possible I should win the thing on merit?

I think the appropriate answer to that, Mama, is, "Yes, dear."

DAISY: It's nice to get the afternoon off.

O'BRIEN: I don't know why we're bothering.

We'll have missed the speeches as it is.

Don't be such a grouch.

O'BRIEN: I'll grouch if I want to.

What do you think will happen to Mrs.

Patmore?

Oh, she'll muddle through with Daisy for help.

In the long term, we'll just have to wait for the doctor to give his opinion.

I hope there's something they can do.

I hope so, too.

But if there isn't, I hope they tell her there isn't.

Nothing is harder to live with than false hope.

I wish you'd just come out with it.

With what?

Whatever it is you're keeping secret.

(birds chirping) I can't.

You don't deny it, then?

No, I don't deny it.

And I don't deny you've a right to ask.

But I can't.

I'm not a free man.

Are you trying to tell me that you're married?

I have been married, yes, but that's not all of it.

Because... (exhales) Because I love you, Mr.

Bates.

I know it's not ladylike to say it, but I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be.

You are a lady to me.

And I never knew a finer one.

(wagon approaching) MAN: If you want a lift, I can take one of you, but not more.

One of the women.

No, you must go.

Then we can all hurry and meet you there.

Yes, all right.

Mustn't slow you down.

There's been too much of that already.

Have you recovered from our ordeal?

I got a letter this morning.

They must have written it as soon as I left the office.

They are pleased to have met me, but I do not quite fit their requirements.

So, it was all for nothing.

I don't agree.

Only a fool doesn't know when they've been beaten.

Then I'm a fool, for I'm a long way from being beaten yet.

(applauding) VIOLET: And now... (continuing presentation) (applause stops) When you ran off last night, I hope you hadn't thought me rude.

(both chuckle) Certainly not.

I monopolized you at dinner.

I had no right to any more of your time.

You see, Edith and I had this sort of bet.

Oh, please, don't apologize.

I had a lovely evening, and I'm glad we're on speaking terms.

(audience applauds) Now I should look after my mother.

(applause continues) Why was Cousin Matthew in such a hurry to get away?

Don't be stupid.

I suppose you didn't want him when he wanted you, and now it's the other way round.

You have to admit, it's quite funny.

I'll admit that if I ever wanted to attract a man, I'd steer clear of those clothes and that hat.

You think yourself so superior, don't you?

(sighs) MAN: Thank you very much, Your Ladyship.

I'm so pleased to accept this prize.

(speech continues) Well, I think she who laughs last laughs longest.

(applauding) And now the Grantham Cup for the Best Bloom in the Village.

And the Grantham Cup is awarded to... (sniffs) ...Mr.

William Molesley... ...for his Comtesse Cabarousse rose.

Bravo!

Well done!

Bravo!

(audience applauding) (audience exclaiming) Congratulations, Mr.

Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

Thank you for letting me have it.

It is the judges who decide these things, not me.

But very well done.

(applause continues) Congratulations.

So well deserved.

Bravo, Mama.

That must have been a real sacrifice.

And bravely borne.

I don't know what everyone's on about.

But I... All is well, my dear.

All is well.

I can't listen to your attempts to try and justify yourself.

If you expect me to disown my daughter, you will be disappointed.

TOM: I took her to Ripon for the count.

(men shouting, plate shatters) She got injured in a fight.

Don't play with me.

VIOLET: If she won't say yes when he might be poor, he won't want her when he will be rich.

Do you love me enough to spend your life with me?

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