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Recapped by Couch Baron · Aired 02-17-2013

A year has passed since the episode and the house is preparing to go to Duneagle Castle for ten days, which you'll remember is the Scottish home of Rose's parents, Lord "Shrimpy" and Lady Susan Flintshire. Mary is eight months pregnant, but despite the men's reticence, she makes the journey to Duneagle. The ladies' maids and valets also accompany their masters, but the rest of the servants -- plus Branson and Isobel (who are far enough removed from the family not to be invited) -- stay home, which leads to two geographically-separated sets of storylines.

Up north, the hosts are thrilled to welcome their guests, none more so than Rose, not least because her parents are openly hostile to each other and her mother is terribly critical of her personally. The house is a fair bit more old-school than Downton, with the servants addressing each other by their masters' names rather than their own, but we don't really get to know any of the Duneagle downstairs staff other than Lady Susan's maid "Wilkins," who's dumb enough not to consider the idea that someone named "O'Brien" might be familiar with the taste of whiskey.

Gregson just so happens to be near enough Duneagle to pay a visit and Mary's suspicious of his motives, as well she might be since he declares his love to Edith. She doesn't know how their relationship can work given his My Wife Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest problem, and, frustrated, he confesses his situation to Matthew. While Matthew's sympathetic, he doesn't know how Lord Grantham could ever give his blessing. That doesn't stop Edith from deciding to continue to see him, though.

The men go hunting and Shrimpy confesses to Lord Grantham what was obvious to everyone -- that he and his wife don't like each other. Susan echoes this sentiment to Cora. Shrimpy also tells Lord Grantham that he's going to have to sell Duneagle, as he's run it into the ground. He praises Lord Grantham for modernizing Downton before it was too late, and Lord Grantham realizes that Matthew's vision for Downton was correct. With their lives a mess, Shrimpy and Susan separately (surprise) ask Lord Grantham and Cora if Rose can come to live at Downton, so it's a good thing that Rose is far more likable here than she was when she was first introduced to us. Before we say goodbye to Duneagle, though, we've got the Gillie's Ball, which is very Scottish, as you might expect. Mary can't restrain herself from dancing and pays the price when she feels ill and, as such, resolves to go back to Downton with Anna ahead of the others.

Back at Downton, some of the servants -- most notably Jimmy James and Alfred -- feel like blowing off some steam while their masters are away. Also, there's still some tension between Thomas and Jimmy James, although even Alfred at this point is like "Dude, would you please get over it?" Meanwhile, a new food seller shows up to Downton and takes a shine to Mrs. Patmore, and when it comes out that there's a fair in town that week at which he's got a booth, everyone gets it in their heads to go -- save Carson, just in case you were wondering if the earth suddenly came off its axis. He does adorably tend to young Sybil, though, so there's that.

In other news, as I mentioned, Branson -- not knowing the Flintshires -- stays home and the Dowager Countess worries about him, so Isobel promises to look after him. Also looking after him is a new maid "Edna," who is pretty clearly smitten with him from the first moment we meet her, for which it's hard to blame her. She fairly brazenly invites him to eat with the staff, but Isobel has already suggested Branson spend some time with the servants rather than moping around on his own, reminding him that his position as agent allows him to fraternize with whomever he pleases. He shyly shows up downstairs, not that he's not welcomed by anyone but Carson when he does. Also in Isobel news, she entertains Dr. Clarkson and the old girl's still got it, as he invites her to the fair. However, when Dr. Clarkson broaches the subject of them getting involved romantically, Isobel tells him, essentially, that she wouldn't want to ruin their friendship. It's characteristic that she'd value the single life, but I do wonder if she'll be more inclined for company after the end of this episode.

At the fair, a wager is made on a tug of war with Branson, Thomas, Jimmy James, Alfred and Mrs. Patmore's new man repping Downton. Jimmy James wins a bunch of money, as well as the satisfaction of beating a bunch of jerks. Unfortunately, the losers are not only sore, but also rough and when Jimmy James -- having flashed his cash around -- wanders drunkenly off, a couple of the losers surround him with a view to take it out of his pretty face. Thomas, having kept tabs on the object of his affection, intervenes and ends up taking the beating, after which Jimmy James decides he's willing to be friends if Thomas won't try any funny business. Also, it turns out Mrs. Patmore's new man is a right grabby sort and Mrs. Hughes has to break the news -- but Mrs. Patmore is actually relieved, which THANK GOD, because that guy was wretched. Last bit of business before the end: When Edna takes one too many liberties with Branson, she gets her walking papers. Although I'm not sure Branson liked her particularly, the storyline let us see him A) cry, B) take his shirt off and C) be consoled by Mrs. Hughes, which is all great stuff, if not necessarily in proper ranking order.

Okay, here it is. Right when Mary arrives back in Downton, she starts going into labor, so she heads straight to the hospital where Dr. Clarkson and Isobel take care of her. Mary gives birth to a son, the new heir, and Matthew -- having rushed back from Scotland -- arrives to the hospital to tearfully greet him… only to get into a car accident on the way back to Downton and die. I mean, we don't see a death certificate or anything, but he'd look pretty doornail-ish to me even if, thanks to the earlier UK airing, it weren't public knowledge that Dan Stevens was leaving the show before I even wrote my first recap. I'm guessing Mary and Branson, with their common tragedies, are going to have a lot to talk about in Season 4.

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As a chyron helpfully informs us that a year has passed since the last episode, Downton servants carry armfuls of luggage out to horse-drawn carts, which will presumably take them to the train station. Upstairs, O'Brien gets a report from Anna on how she's outfitted for hair preparation, while a young blonde who is a new face among the staff, passes Branson in the hall and turns to check him out, even letting her eyes drop to a spot I'm guessing is below the waist. It's early to say, but indications are that she and I have a few things in common.

Downstairs, the kitchen staff is busy preparing food for whatever trip is happening when Bates enters and reports to Jimmy James that the suitcases are ready. Jimmy James heads up to fetch them, and then Ivy remarks on the palaver surrounding them and wonders if the family goes to Duneagle every year. Bates tells her that they didn't the year before, being in mourning (which is odd for him to be telling her, given that she was there at that time and he wasn't), nor did they go during the war. "But otherwise, it's the high sport of his Lordship's calendar." Higher than the cricket match? This I have to see.

Back at the front door, Thomas -- dressed a bit more formally than we've seen before as befits his new under-butler status -- gives instructions to some of the underlings, while Carson does his best to put up with some nonsense or other from Molesley. Also, Branson is there holding baby Sybil, who's not quite so tiny anymore. Outside, Thomas gives Alfred and Jimmy James a hand with a case that may well -- from the way they're struggling -- be packed with solid gold. As we'll learn, that would be welcome news for Shrimpie but is probably too much for him to hope for. Once the case has been wrangled, we see that things between Thomas and Jimmy James are still silently awkward...

...and the updates keep coming, as when we cut to her upstairs bedroom, we see that Mary is rather pregnant although there's only so much they can do to make rail-thin Michelle Dockery look the part. While Matthew is concerned for her -- we'll find out that she's eight months along -- she dismisses any worry, and he gives up the argument without much fuss, although he does ask her to tell him if she changes her mind at any point and feels like coming home. She smiles in his direction...

...while downstairs, Edith is on the phone, remarking that "it seems an awfully long way to come for a walk." Cut to her stepping into the dining room, wherein she tells the group that it was Gregson on the phone -- Lord Grantham looks none too pleased to hear it -- telling her he's going to be near Duneagle while she's up there. Mary knowingly remarks on the "coincidence" and you can hear the umbrage Edith's taking in her replying tone of voice, but Cora suggests they have him over while they're there. Matthew, always reliable when a change of subject is needed, asks why the Flintshires are based in Scotland when the title is Welsh, and the answer has something to do with Shrimpie's grandmother, which leads Matthew to the far better question of why he's called "Shrimpie." As Lord Grantham recalls, it came out of a nursery game -- Louisa was a lobster, Agatha was a shark -- "which is easy to believe" (hee), and Shrimpie, he supposes, was a shrimp. Branson wonders if the name fits his stature, but Mary says no -- he was simply the youngest. Well, it's better than "Runty," I suppose. Cora tells Branson she's sorry he won't be with them, but he points out there's no reason for him to have been asked as they don't know him at all. Well... true, but I'd imagine they knew Sybil all her life; wouldn't they want to meet him solely based on that, especially with the baby? I'm sure I'm overlooking some custom in this matter. Matthew points out that he doesn't know them either, but I suppose being married to a living daughter is the difference here. Speaking of Mary's health, Lord Grantham asks her if she's sure she should be going, but she says she still has a month and although Carson similarly expresses some concern, Lord Grantham puts paid to any further discussion by remarking that they're late to meet the Dowager Countess at the train station. Well, Lord Grantham, I think I speak for everyone when I say that the important thing is that she's coming on the trip.

On the platform, the servants who are going -- that would be Bates, Anna, O'Brien, and Molesley, who I guess must be serving as Matthew's valet -- chat about how much work there's going to be, and O'Brien is certainly friendly enough with Bates and Anna to suggest that not everyone's holding a grudge over the events of last year. Bates then asks Anna if she's really never been to Scotland, adding that his maternal grandmother was Scottish. At this point no one is going to argue with the idea that the character needs some livening up, so in that vein, I'd love to see him put on a Scottish accent for the trip. Elsewhere -- this is almost as chaotic as everyone getting on the Hogwarts Express here -- Lord Grantham leaves Isis in Branson's care and gives him some instructions, while down the platform, the Dowager Countess wonders if it's wise to leave Branson there on his own. "I don't want freedom to go to his head." Heh. Isobel promises to keep an eye on him and resolves to have him over for dinner that evening and the Dowager Countess smiles that that's one day taken care of. "Only nine to go." Everyone boards and the train pulls out, with Isobel waving happily to her son. That one's gonna hurt.

The remaining staff is eating dinner when Alfred asks if they'll have a bit of a break -- possibly for an outing -- while the upstairs crowd is away, but Carson looks at him like he just requested to take over Lord Grantham's bedroom. After remarking that they're still being paid, he details the cleaning of all the silverware the footmen will have to do, but when the maids giggle at the boys' plight, Mrs. Hughes leans forward and informs them that every room will be getting a thorough cleaning. Having shut them up, though, she whispers to Carson that maybe they could have a bit of a break and Carson tells her that if they get sufficient work done, he'll think about it. He sounds pretty resolved, but there are only so many scenes the show can get out of bed-making and dusting.

Upstairs, the new maid picks up a photo of Sybil and regards it intently until Mrs. Hughes comes in and reproaches her with a sharp "Edna." Edna puts down the photo and gets to work, but wonders aloud why Branson wasn't asked to go with the others before conspiratorially adding she wonders what Lady Flintshire made of Sybil eloping with a chauffeur. I couldn't say for sure, but having watched the episode, I wouldn't guess the benefit of the doubt is something she gives freely. Mrs. Hughes, far more mildly than I would have expected, tells her it's not her place to wonder before sadly picking up the photograph as Edna asks what Sybil was like. Mrs. Hughes' eyes fill a little as she says she was sweet and kind, "and a real beauty, inside and out." It's nice to be reminded of how well Mrs. Hughes knew Sybil; it gives more heft to the later scene with Branson. Edna wonders why Sybil didn't do better for herself, but does smile that Branson is nice-looking. Mrs. Hughes stiffens at the evaluation, but it's hard to blame her for it. Plus, Mrs. Hughes, you might want to ration your Edna-related outrage.

At Crawley House, Isobel -- who I'm not sure has hired anyone to replace Ethel -- is entertaining Dr. Clarkson, who apparently we can add to the list of people worried about Mary traveling in her condition. Isobel points out that there are hospitals in Inverness, but she does concede that it's hard to blame anyone for concern after what happened with Sybil. After a moment of silence for her, Dr. Clarkson smiles that it'll be very quiet for Isobel with everyone away and she agrees before inviting him to supper the night. After the usual disclaimers about not wanting to be a burden, Dr. Clarkson says he'd be delighted...

...while back at the big house, Branson sits alone at the head of the table and I'm sorry, but just picturing this sad tableau I can't believe Cora and Mary wouldn't have told propriety to screw itself and packed Branson up in a suitcase if it came to that. Edna enters with a tray and immediately apologizes, saying Carson sent her in to clear, thinking he'd already be gone. Branson ruefully smiles that he should be and when Edna offers that it seems sad for him to be left on his own, he tells her he's used to it, prompting her to apologize for the perceived faux pas. Of course, he's not offended, but when she guesses his situation must be very hard, he tells her not to worry and learns her name before leaving the room, whereupon she happily gets to the task at hand.

Our people are pulling up to Duneagle, which is stunning. (The location used was actually Inveraray Castle, which you can see here.) The presumed Lord and Lady Flintshire -- the former sporting a kilt -- are waiting outside for them when Rose comes rushing out with an endearing wave. Greetings are exchanged, with Rose taking pains to introduce Matthew to her father and when she happily uses a callback in referring to him as a "defender of the downtrodden," it makes me wonder if perhaps she had some influence in making sure Matthew got an invitation. Shrimpie recalls that they met at Matthew and Mary's wedding, while Lady Flintshire happily thanks the Dowager Countess for making such a long trip and the Dowager Countess replies that she flatters her, "which is just as it should be!" Heh. Rose takes Mary and Edith by the hand and happily mentions the upcoming Gillies' Ball, "which Mary's always the star of." On first viewing, I wondered if, given how she left them last time, her enthusiasm was calculated, but her mother's sharp warning to her not to wear their guests out hints at the reason why her fervor for company is absolutely genuine. And speaking of previewing tensions, Lady Flintshire tells Cora about a plan they have for an outdoor lunch at their mountain loch she knows Cora likes, whereupon Shrimpie pipes up that it was his idea and the ensuing silence is rather chillier than the local air at night. Everyone heads off to get settled in...

By Couch Baron

...and then we cut to dinnertime, with a bagpipes player circling the table and playing -- loudly. Some of the guests (such as Edith) seem charmed, but Matthew looks like he has a migraine coming on, while the Dowager Countess looks like she's mentally cursing Isobel for not having to hear this. He does eventually leave them in peace, but when Lord Grantham proclaims the music "marvelous," Susan (that's Lady Flintshire) informs that he'll be back "to pipe us awake at eight o'clock." I would desperately try to get up before them, as offhand I can't imagine many more unpleasant ways to be jerked out of sleep. No wonder the Flintshires seem so irritable. After Susan throws a nasty enough comment her husband's way, Shrimpie tells Lord Grantham that they can practice shooting the day, whereupon the Dowager Countess asks what's planned for the women. Rose pipes up that there's a picnic by the loch the day after and then mentions the ball again, which she says is always fun. Susan: "As long as it's not too much fun." Seems like people using the last year to forget their grudges doesn't extend to Susan, not that that's a surprise even at this early hour. Edith then brings up Gregson and Rose suggests she invite him to Duneagle; while Lord Grantham tries to shoot the idea down, Cora takes the opposite position and Shrimpie makes the invitation formal, unless Susan has any objections? Susan: "Why on earth would I object?" On second thought, let's get the bagpipes player back in here. It'll be more pleasant that this conversation.

Carson is reading The Yorkshire Observer at the table when Mrs. Patmore comes in and announces to the group that Tufton gave her dry ginger instead of fresh, which is partially her fault, since the old supplier knew what she wanted and as such she didn't specify. Thomas says he's got a mind to go to the town where Tufton's store is the day so he can take it back and Mrs. Patmore suggests that Alfred go with him, as he'd like the store, what with his interest in cooking. Carson is like, whoa whoa whoa, what about Branson's lunch, but Thomas declares that he'll hardly need an under-butler or two footmen and Mrs. Hughes makes it a moot point by saying Branson told her he'd get lunch at the Grantham Arms as Edna listens intently, probably thinking of filthy puns involving Branson's arms. I mean, we've been pretty like-minded so far. Carson gives them leave to go...

...while, speaking of Branson, he and his arms are over at Isobel's, and she tells him he's welcome whenever he likes, adding that it must be odd being alone at the house. Branson, however, points out that he's not alone -- there are people he knows well, but their social statuses are different now. Of course, he's talking to a woman who knowingly gave a job to Downton's Hester Prynne, so it's no surprise that she encourages him to spend some time with the below-stairs folk, adding that -- presumably referring to the way Downton is now run -- that he's "managed a very delicate transition superbly." He thanks her, but she goes on to caution him not to be too eager to please; he's the agent of the estate and as such, he has a perfect right to speak with anyone who works under him. Branson looks like he hadn't considered his position in quite this light before and smiles that that's quite a speech, but she tells him she means it and that he has a position now. "You're entitled to use it." Honestly, I'd be surprised if this is the first time these two have spent any time together, even without taking into account that Branson and Matthew are total bros.

Branson returns to Downton via the servants' entrance and when Mrs. Hughes runs into him, he explains that he didn't want to drag one of them upstairs to answer the door. Aww. She asks him if he'd mind the maids cleaning during the day while the family's away and when he tries to tell her she doesn't need his permission, she gently demurs. This obviously is only going to make him feel more isolated, but he manages to smile and wish her good night...

...while at Duneagle, Mary confesses to Anna that she felt a bit shaken up on the train, but she doesn't want Matthew to know. "I can't spoil his last treat before fatherhood claims him." You guys, I'm trying not to reference the closing event too much. It isn't easy. With hesitation, Anna expresses nervousness about the ball, saying that she just feels "so English," and geez, Anna, I get that you're feeling like a fish out of the loch a bit, but it's a ten-day trip. You'll forgive me if I'm not praying that you learn to reel in time. Speaking of which, Mary sighs that if she weren't pregnant, she'd dance all night so Anna has to get a little stern with her. I'm just glad I'm not the one tasked with telling an eight-months-along Mary something she does not want to hear.

The morning, we get an aerial view of the castle and it really is something to behold. Somewhat less marvelous are the bagpipes, though, and Lord Grantham turns over and sighs "Bloody hell," so you know he's hearing them as loudly as they're coming across on the soundtrack. Cora's a bit more serene about it, but Lord Grantham covers his head with a pillow, which makes him look like me when my neighbor's dog is left alone in the morning.

Some time later, Matthew is getting some shooting lessons from an old dude who's straight out of Highlands Central Casting and talks about how deer are noble creatures and deserve a respectful death and whatever, and they're then joined by Rose, Shrimpie and Lord Grantham. Upon being asked, Rose tells Lord Grantham that Susan is showing the Dowager Countess the gardens and when she then wanders off, Shrimpie explains that Rose is "not anxious for her mother's company." I'm impressed with his diplomacy, not least because he didn't cast his lot in with his daughter there. Shrimpie then tells Lord Grantham that he's getting a foreign assignment, which he plans to accept...

...which, as it happens, is just the subject about which Susan is currently grousing, as she says even though they don't yet know where the assignment will be, she's sure that "it will be filthy and dirty and the food will be awful and there will be no one to talk to for a hundred square miles." The Dowager Countess replies that that sounds like a week with her mother-in-law, but before I get too into mentally casting that prequel, the Dowager Countess asks if Rose will go with them. When Susan asks what Rose has been saying, the Dowager Countess gently says that although "no one can accuse me of being modern" (hee) even she can see that it isn't a crime to be young. Susan admits that she knows, but "you don't see how they gang up on me," so the Dowager Countess says she'll strive to keep the peace. The extra hiss with which she pronounces those words suggests even she knows that's not a role she was born to play and Susan tells her that as her aunt, "you can jolly well be on my side." Well, she'll have a lot of legroom, at least.

Downstairs, O'Brien and Wilkins are doing some sewing as O'Brien says that she'd like to travel more -- they see a bit of London, but that's pretty much it. Wilkins asks about the House of Lords, but O'Brien tells her that Lord Grantham just takes Bates and stays in his club. Wilkins sighs that they're headed for "an outpost of Empire," and both she and Susan are dreading it; O'Brien thinks she'd enjoy something different, but Wilkins is like, no. You know what this means: Time for Freaky Friday: Lady's Maid Version!

Jimmy James and Alfred are not super-jazzed about the massive amount of silver set in front of them and kind of sit in a daze until Carson enters and clears his throat, whereupon they start polishing like their lives depend on it. I'm sure you're busy, Carson, but if you want your silver to shine like it can, I'd keep one eye on these two.

Edith finds her mother and reports that Gregson would love to come and when Mary replies that she's sure he would, Edith asks what she means. Mary says she doesn't suppose Gregson finds himself at places like Duneagle all that often and when Cora chides her for being snobbish, Mary wonders what he's even doing up there. Edith tells her he's on a "sketching holiday, sketching and fishing." Edith, I have no issue with Gregson or with you seeing him, but even you must be able to smell that horseshit. I mean, you're a journalist, for heaven's sake. When Matthew joins them, though, Edith acidly tells him that Mary has decided to be nasty about Gregson, so when Matthew gives her an accusing look, Mary says she was simply questioning his motives for being in the Highlands. Matthew, however, says there's nothing wrong with him being there, although he does give Mary a little smile that Edith can't see and she thus drops the issue. I probably don't have to add "for now."

Branson is out in town with Isis and when he arrives at the pub, he soon sees Edna seated at a table. After taking a moment to process her in this setting, he proclaims her move of sitting in a pub on her own "very daring," so she confesses that she knew he was coming in. After a bit of talk about her schedule, she tells him she's heard that when he first came back to Downton after his marriage to Sybil, he refused to dress the part, so why does he now? He considers the question -- it obviously hits a nerve -- but recovers some good humor to say that he was tired of talking about his clothes every time he came downstairs and given one particular scene I remember with the Dowager Countess, you can hardly blame him for having felt like Sisyphus pushing a sartorial rock. He tells her he's still the same man inside, so she suggests he join the servants for dinner one night and she had no way of knowing how much the idea was on his mind, but his answering smile suggests if he hasn't made the decision to do already, he's getting closer.

Alfred, Thomas and Jimmy James are just wrapping it up with Tufton -- with Alfred admiring his array of spices -- when he tells them about a fair in the town that weekend at which he'll have a booth. Alfred wonders if they can get the time off, but Thomas is optimistic and asks Jimmy James if he's interested. Jimmy James, however, says he'll only go if there's a group of them...

...while Carson complains to Mrs. Hughes that he can't let his staff "go gallivanting off to every fair at the drop of a hat." Mrs. Hughes assures him she'll take care of Branson, but Mrs. Patmore then comes up and asks for that Friday afternoon off and when Carson hears she wants to go to the fair as well (with "a friend," don't you know), he makes noises about being "undermined at every turn," and I suppose the rest of them don't need to go elsewhere for their entertainment if he's going to put on such a dramatic production about every little thing. Mrs. Hughes giggles before telling Mrs. Patmore what Carson was on about, and when she hears about the boys' plans, Mrs. Patmore suggests the entire staff go -- she'll make Branson a tray and he can stay and keep charge of the house. I'd protest about Branson being made to feel even lonelier if I didn't know how this was going to play out.

At Duneagle, everyone is chatting when the butler announces Gregson, who of course first thanks Susan for her hospitality and I wonder what the over/under is on the number of people in the room who mentally make some smart remark in response. Matthew asides to Mary that he looks perfectly normal, but Mary's hardly going to stop now: "Since he came here with the express purpose of dining at Duneagle, he obviously brought a set of tails." It's the "oh, come ON" tone of voice that really sells it. Edith brings Gregson over to Cora and the Dowager Countess, and the former kindly tells him that she started reading his magazine for Edith's column, but now she wouldn't miss it. Lord Grantham, however, announces that he's puzzled why Gregson would employ "amateurs" like Edith (Mary, sotto voce: "I agree"), and since she's presumably getting paid you could argue his choice of words, but I suppose he means that Edith had no experience when he took her on. Gregson doesn't argue the semantics, but still thinks the distinction isn't meaningful compared to whether the person has something to say, and Lord Grantham -- while still not looking super-psyched -- at least appears to acknowledge the compliment given his daughter. Edith then brings Gregson to meet Mary, while across the way, Susan complains that Rose is "slouching like a field hand," to which Rose angrily asks if she could have five minutes without being criticized. I think if I'd watched last episode knowing what I know now, I'd have been inclined to give Rose much more of a break. None of this is lost on Cora or the Dowager Countess, the latter of whom whispers that now that she's witnessing it firsthand, she doesn't think Susan is handling herself well with Rose. Cora's more sympathetic, saying it's difficult with a young daughter full of new ideas; she thinks you're fighting her when you're just scared. She gets overcome with memories of her departed daughter and the Dowager Countess gently tells her that they all miss Sybil... every single day. The butler then appears with a nod to signal that dinner is ready and when Susan makes a lifeless announcement of same, the Dowager Countess looks at the unhappy family with grave concern. Maybe it's time for another speech about spending some time apart?

In the dining room, Branson's happily holding his daughter when Edna enters and offers to take her to the nursery. Before she goes, though, she requests leave to ask him something and when it's granted, she wonders if he's ashamed of who he was or who he is. Is that why he won't eat with them? This question looks like it hits him hard, but he tells her that's not the reason. When she's gone, though, he looks terribly haunted. He really is kind of lost without Matthew around, which... I'm not going to say it. Sigh.

At Duneagle, Bates and Anna are out for a walk, noting how light it stays up there in the evening and they chat about having a picnic the day before. Then, under the great stone bridge that leads to the main entrance to the estate, they come across Rose who is distraught enough at her mother's ill treatment of her that she's sobbing and having a cigarette. When Bates announces their presence, she smiles through her tears and asks them not to tell her mother she was smoking. She then seems genuinely touched by Bates' offer of a peppermint before apologizing for the state of her, saying that her mother has been "unusually impossible" that evening. Bates tries to tell her she'll survive before, from above, Susan's voice rings out for her to come inside. Rose heads off, but turns to thank Bates again for the mint and if this show has a weakness, it isn't in the area of effective character turnarounds.

Dr. Clarkson is back at Crawley House and he tells her he should probably go, but she asks him to stay for a bit. After a bit of chat, he tells her that he sometimes forgets, "when we meet in the splendor of the Abbey," that she was a doctor's wife and as such understands his life. She agrees that it's nice to be able to shorthand things and know the other person will get them. He expresses the hope that they can do this again soon and Isobel's face gives nothing away, but if she were thinking "Yup, still got it," it would be well-deserved.

Back at Duneagle, Gregson declares his intention to go shooting with Matthew the day, but Edith asks him to please tell her the truth -- why is he there? He hesitantly says he hoped for her family to like him, which would make it easier for them to be on his side, but Edith knows he's talking about. Despite the extenuating circumstances, what everyone will see is an affair between two people who are not only disdainful of marriage, but also uncaring enough to take advantage of a woman unable to care for herself. Edith -- with her face going in about twenty different directions -- says as much, telling him that whatever they may think of him personally "won't change the basic facts," but he informs her he's in love with her. Some part of her is thrilled to hear it, but she still tells him she doesn't see a happy ending here and then the Dowager Countess calls her over to round out a bridge foursome, meaning it's still to be determined exactly how star-crossed they're going to ask to be.

Upstairs, Matthew tells Mary about his invitation to Gregson and Mary chuckles that Gregson is getting some use out of the tails, as Susan's invited him to the ball. "He probably had reeling classes before he left London." Heh. Matthew good-humoredly chides her not to hate a man before she knows him. "It's the hallmark of our parents' generation and I forbid it." I can't see Isobel really doing that, but I suppose Lord Grantham has pre-disliked enough people for both of them. Matthew then puts a hand on his wife's stomach and suggests she let her niceness shine through, prompting Mary to reply that Matthew thinks she's nice, but nobody else does. "What makes you so sure I am?" He says it's because he's seen her naked and held her in his arms and as such, he knows the real her. She smiles at the testimonial and they kiss, while in Mary's uterus, someone's first thought is "No, YOU'RE schmoopy!"

Mrs. Hughes is after Carson again about the fair and apparently he's given everyone permission to go, but Mrs. Hughes wants Carson to say he'll attend as well. Carson, however, after checking for eavesdroppers -- everyone else around here could take notes -- tells Mrs. Hughes that if he goes, none of the staff will have a good time. Mrs. Hughes tells him she's going whether it interferes with anyone's good time or not, but Carson thinks it's different with him -- he's their leader. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Mrs. Hughes manages to keep a straight face, but I think Mrs. Patmore's going to have heard about this one before I'm finished typing this sentence.

At Duneagle, there are two parties heading out -- Matthew and Gregson are going stalking in one group, while Shrimpie and Lord Grantham will be in another. After some words about the ladies' luncheon that only give Susan her morning opportunity to demonstrate her contempt for her husband, the men head out...

...while at Downton, Daisy wonders if she should afford the expense of the fair, leading to a discussion that ends with Jimmy James saying, "I can always get money." I don't know if Thomas is still holding out hope, but lines like that aren't going to discourage him. Mrs. Hughes then enters and Mrs. Patmore grabs a box and hustles her into a secluded area, whereupon Ivy tells Daisy, Thomas and Alfred that whatever's in it is from some dress shop in Ripon, and she guesses Mrs. Patmore has a "fancy man." Alfred's surprised, but Daisy says why not -- she's a woman, isn't she? Thomas: "Only technically." Thomas, RUDE! And you were doing so well!

Rose pops in to tell Mary they're off to the luncheon, only to have Anna inform her that she's already gone down. Rose starts to head that way herself, but turns back to smile to Anna that she was kind to cheer her up the day before. Anna tells her it's quite all right, but when Rose says to let her know if she can return the favor, Anna tells her there is, in fact, something she can help her with. If it's to get a less boring husband, Anna, that may be beyond Rose's powers.

Led by that crusty Scotsman who was working with Matthew earlier, Lord Grantham and Shrimpie creep up on some deer, but Lord Grantham fails to take a shot when it's there, which Crusty Scotsman says is good, since they don't rush things around there. Given that I've written about six thousand words without anything really having happened, I'm starting to get that.

Mrs. Patmore is showing Mrs. Hughes the dress she got, presumably from her "friend" Tufton -- a peach number with a ribbon collar that Mrs. Patmore thinks might be a little "girlish." Mrs. Hughes thinks she should go for it since they rarely get a chance to dress young, so Mrs. Patmore hands her the accompanying note, which asks her to give him "the honor of squiring you through the day." Mrs. Patmore says no one's wanted to squire her anyway since the Golden Jubilee -- hee, and awww -- and Mrs. Hughes gets that look on her face that appears when she's about to bring up something delicate, which has been a lot rarer since Ethel cleaned up her act. She asks what Mrs. Patmore will do if he has further intentions, adding that there's only one reason a man that age courts a respectable woman. Mrs. Patmore doesn't quite get her meaning, which makes me wonder how narrowly Mrs. Hughes is defining "respectable" here, but she makes her meaning plain: "He finds himself in need of a wife!" And she was already questioning the blouse.

Bates and Anna are having their picnic and Anna even pulls out a bottle of beer she nicked from someplace. She toasts to the future and to his "Scottish blood," which makes him wonder what she's up to. She tell him it's nothing, but her giggling speaks otherwise, prompting him to grab the picnic basket and hold it out of her reach as he repeats the question. I mean, it's not as cute as fluffy bunnies, but a little playful immaturity is only one of many things that would make this couple more relatable. They kiss...

...while across the moors, it seems that patience did indeed prove a virtue, as there's a dead deer lashed to a horse in Lord Grantham's party. Now that they're walking, Lord Grantham asks Shrimpie if everything's all right and Shrimpie opens a flask and hands it to his mate as he sighs that it isn't all right, not at all, but he doesn't see the point in discussing it when there's nothing to be done. Taking his meaning, Lord Grantham says he's not so sure these days and mentions one couple they know who got a divorce and weren't run out of the country or anything, but Shrimpie tells Lord Grantham that with his official post, it isn't an option. Lord Grantham takes that to mean the Empire will want Susan by Shrimpie's side wherever they send him and Shrimpie offers that she'll do it well -- she could teach diplomacy to experts. I'm guessing this is a "do as a say, not as I do" situation. Shrimpie adds that the problem is simply that they don't like each other, and that comment I certain won't dispute.

Branson tentatively appears in the doorway downstairs and everyone's working so hard they don't notice him at first, but Mrs. Hughes eventually sees him and asks what she can do for him. Everyone stands, except Edna, and you can be sure that isn't lost on Mrs. Hughes. Branson haltingly tells her he'd like to join them for dinner that night and Mrs. Hughes tells him he'd of course be welcome, adding that they don't eat late when the family's away, so he can come down at eight. Branson smiles and makes his way off, whereupon Mrs. Hughes gives Edna another suspicious side-eye, Thomas sucks his cheeks in as far as I've ever seen them go and Edna looks pleased with herself. Lady, if I cared about you, I'd offer up cautionary tales named "Ethel" and "Jane."

After an absolutely gorgeous shot of clouds moving over the Highlands, we see Lord Grantham and Shrimpie approaching a tent by the loch in which the women are having their luncheon and chatting a bit about nature. Susan seems in a better mood as she smiles that they weren't expecting male company, but as often happens in poisoned relationships, when one party's nastiness recedes the other picks up the slack, so Shrimpie snits that he's sorry to disappoint her. Susan sends the ill humor Rose's way and Rose, with no one lower on the food chain to take it out on, stares back at her mother like "What a bitter cup of tea you are."

Elsewhere, in the other party, there are no deer on the horses and Matthew uncharacteristically grouses about the ten hours they've spend in vain, prompting Gregson to say their errand is a lot like trench warfare -- "hours of inching through mud; no discernible purpose." Perhaps turned on by shared experience, Matthew invites Gregson to come fly-fishing with him the day, adding that he could bring his evening clothes with him and change at Duneagle. Gregson wonders if that isn't too much of an imposition, but Matthew thinks Gregson came to get to know the family, so why not? "Besides, you didn't bring your tails all the way to Scotland to dine in a country pub." Perhaps not, but I wouldn't mind seeing it.

Upstairs, O'Brien walks out onto the balcony and runs into Wilkins, who asks if she has a moment for Susan. Wilkins seems reluctant about the whole thing to start and when O'Brien asks what Susan wants with her, Wilkins contemptuously replies, "Well, what do you think? She wants to make a fuss like she always does." Well, if that's how she feels, her reticence to travel with Susan is a lot more understandable.

Cut to Susan rather patronizingly telling O'Brien that Wilkins just isn't getting how to make her hairstyle look like Cora's and she then brushes aside Wilkins' attempts to protest that she does understand by curtly asking O'Brien if she could help. After a pause, O'Brien explains what she sees as the issue and although she's doing her best to navigate an awkward situation, Wilkins gives her a side-eye that would be appropriate for Benedict Arnold... or possibly Delilah. Since we're in the realm of hair, the latter is probably the reference to go with. Susan sharply tells Wilkins to pay close attention to what O'Brien is doing, whereupon Wilkins once again tries to decapitate O'Brien with her lower lip.

Shrimpie has apparently mentioned Bombay and Lord Grantham offers that that would be a fairly modest assignment for a marquess, but the Dowager Countess demurs, saying it could be a step toward the Viceroy's crown. Shrimpie says that if he knows anything, it's that it's going to be hot and the Dowager Countess adds that "all the costumes of Imperial rule are always so peculiarly unsuited to the climate." Heh. The Dowager Countess then asks if they'll take Rose, and Shrimpie tells her he doesn't think they should, but Susan won't discuss the matter. The Dowager Countess: "Unless you want her marriage to a third-rate colonial official with no money and bad teeth, Susan had better think again." To paraphrase Woody Boyd, I can't speak for Susan or Rose, but I could do without that.

Matthew is telling a "the one that got away" story and after Mary's like, yaaaaaaawn, Edith asks Matthew what he thought of Gregson. When Matthew tells her he's a nice chap, she smiles that he's had such a lot to put up with, to which Mary asks if he's another one of Edith's "hard-luck cases." Edith's face falls like Susan's hair under Wilkins' care as she asks why Mary must be so heartless. It's true it wasn't the kindest thing to say, but then again, everyone thought that Patrick storyline was moronic.

Rose is telling Cora that actually, she thinks India would be fascinating -- it's just that it won't do her any good if she and her mother kill each other. Cora gives her some platitudes that we at least know are rooted in something real, but the point is that Susan's ears are as sharp as the rest of her as she asks what they're talking about. Cora, however, is as usual much better at coming up with a lie on the fly than you'd think and she tells her that Rose was just saying how nice her hair looks tonight. Susan looks torn between suspicion of her daughter and hope that her hair does indeed look amazing, while Rose smiles in relief. Maybe Cora's the one who should look into teaching diplomacy.

Someone who is not feeling very diplomatic at the moment is Carson, who barks, "He's what?" Mrs. Hughes assures him Branson's presence is only meant to be friendly (does Carson think this is some kind of inspection?) and then, with Branson's appearance, we learn that Mrs. Hughes obviously oh-by-the-wayed this at like 7:59, which is hilarious. Branson greets Carson and immediately guesses that he doesn't approve and Carson can't really say anything without agreeing with that assessment, so he opts for some silent fuming. Branson then heads out, but Mrs. Hughes lingers to admonish Carson not to show an example of rudeness to the younger staff and I'll admit it's mostly of his own making, but this isn't turning out to the greatest vacation for Carson, is it?

Dr. Clarkson has stopped by Crawley House once again and he tells Isobel he won't stay, but thanks to Mrs. Hughes -- into whom he ran that afternoon -- he's had an idea: would she like to go with him to the fair the day? Isobel takes a moment and she could be thinking about anything here, but accepts with a smile, so he tells her he'll come for her at five. Too bad British propriety precludes anyone from ascertaining whether this is actually a date.

Downstairs, in regards to the fair, Branson says he'll keep an eye on the place, prompting Edna to blurt out that she hoped he'd come. Thomas gives her the most deliciously speculative look at that and Edna only digs herself deeper by saying she thought he could drive them. Mrs. Hughes chastises her for her "impertinence," but Branson thinks that's a capital idea, leaving only the issue of who will stay to mind the house. Carson, without looking up, intones that he will and when Alfred asks if he doesn't want to come to the fair, Carson replies, "I would sooner chew broken glass." Everyone chuckles at that, but Carson looks up to give Mrs. Hughes a conspiratorial eyebrow-raise. Aw.

Anna is telling Mary she and Bates had a lovely picnic and then Mary confesses she was stupid to go to the luncheon. "We were shaken about in that trap like dice in a cup." Anna cautions her to take it easy, especially at the ball, and when Mary asks if she's looking forward to it, Anna says she is -- and she's been working on a surprise for Bates that she thinks Mary will enjoy as well. Mary looks intrigued at what the hell that might be, but just then Matthew enters so Anna takes her leave after cautioning Mary to remember what she said. Matthew asks what that was about, so Mary confesses that she promised to rest the day, "which is annoying, because I'd rather come out with you and interrogate Mr. Gregson." Heh. Mary asks if he's going to propose and Matthew supposes so, but does note that Gregson is "quite opaque" about the whole business. Mary proclaims him a man of mystery and adds that Edith could use some of that, and when Matthew notes that she can be horrid when she wants to be, she replies, "I know." Hee. She asks if he loves her despite that and he smiles that he does, "madly." I know what I said before, but you can't begrudge me sighing again, can you?

Aw, the favor Anna asked for earlier is for Rose to teach her how to reel and they giggle as Anna gets the hang of it. Cute!

As they set some of the silver back out upstairs, Alfred tells Jimmy James not to spoil everyone's time at the fair by being awkward and nasty with Thomas. Jimmy James thinks Alfred is a fine one to talk, given that he rang the police in the first place and then pronounces himself bushed and flops down in a chair. Alfred's horror at the impropriety is quickly overwhelmed by his sense of monkey see, monkey do, and he takes a tentative seat on the couch before going back to the original subject, saying it's funny, given what happened, that Thomas won't hear a bad word about Jimmy James. Jimmy James doesn't immediately think to ask if that means Alfred's badmouthed him to Thomas and he runs out of time when Mrs. Hughes appears in the doorway and chews them out for playing while "the cat's away," adding they'll see what Carson has to say. Branson then appears in the door, and he and Mrs. Hughes exit immediately, after which Jimmy James and Alfred smile. I guess they figure Carson will have trouble yelling at them with a mouthful of broken glass.

In the hall, Branson asks what time they'll be leaving and Mrs. Hughes says half past four, but offers that "Mr. Stark" could drive them. As we see Edna within earshot, Branson makes a joke about being so high and mighty, but Mrs. Hughes tells him he's part of the family now and if "someone" is trying to make him feel awkward about that, that person is in the wrong. Branson nods, but says he'll be there to drive them and this elicits a smile from Edna. When she sees it, Mrs. Hughes's eyes narrow in Edna's direction in the most amazing way and Edna, might as well cut loose at the fair, because your days here have got to be numbered.

And speaking of which, it's fair time! Mrs. Patmore says she's supposed to meet Tufton and Alfred asks if he can come, as he wants to check out the best food stalls. Jimmy James, however, points to a sign for a tug-of-war with cash prizes and asks Branson and Alfred if they won't give it a go. Branson's up for it, so Alfred asks Thomas if he's game. Jimmy James snots that it might be a bit rough for him, but while Thomas may not hear a bad word about Jimmy James, he isn't going to back down from a challenge either. Meanwhile, Edna takes Branson's arm as she says she'll come cheer him on and everyone notices her liberties now, particularly Ivy and Daisy, who I should mention again seem thick as thieves. Ivy says they should go find some games and when Daisy tells her they're all fixed, Ivy tells her she doesn't think so. Daisy: "They must have seen you coming." Hee.

Mrs. Hughes and Patmore are having a little drink in front of Tufton's stall and he suggests they finish up so they can go find some fun. Mrs. Patmore asks what about the stall, but Tufton says the girl working there, "Lucy," can manage without him and he pinches her Down There on his way out, to which Mrs. Patmore is oblivious but Mrs. Hughes most certainly is not. Tufton then tells Mrs. Patmore that in that blouse, she looks like she belongs in Vogue and he continues with the buffoonery as Mrs. Hughes wonders if she should give in now and get hammered. She resolves to take off to find Alfred, but when Tufton approaches Mrs. Patmore with a disgusting leer on his face, Mrs. Hughes looks back with an undisguised "Well, I never!" expression. And who can blame her?

After a quick montage of fair activities, the tug-of-war master asks if there are any side bets before they start and when one of the toughs on the opposing teams scornfully asks who'd bet on them, Jimmy James asks what odds he could get. The tug-of-war master offers ten to one, so Jimmy James bets a pound, which by his wages has to be pretty steep so it's no surprise that Alfred upbraids him for it. Jimmy James, though, has something big up his sleeve -- Tufton, who he invites to join them as a Downton supplier. I guess he's evening out the teams, but you'd still think the bet could be rescinded; regardless, it seems on as Tufton is only too happy to hop into the ring and crudely show off for the ladies present, which once again is not lost on Mrs. Hughes. The contest then starts...

...while in tamer sport, Matthew and Gregson are up to their knees in the river as Gregson says he knows it's a lot to ask, but what else can he do in his situation? Matthew, however, says that Lord Grantham may grant the difficulty of his circumstances in the abstract, but that's a far cry from willingly involving his daughter in them. "Not when all you have to offer is a job as your mistress." Damn, Matthew, that is sugar-free enough to be worthy of your wife. Gregson emotionally says he loves Edith, but Matthew continues his tough acquaintanceship by supposing Gregson's been misled by their idyllic surroundings. "We're not in a novel by Walter Scott." You know that's a good line when the editor has no answer...

...so let's go back to the tug-of-war, which is heating up. If you're interested, the order they've gone with is Jimmy James, Branson, Thomas, Alfred and Tufton as anchor. The master seethes at one of his guys to pull the damn rope, but the Downton team is making headway, and then, just like that, it's over -- much to the crowd's delight. Less delighted is the master, but he pays Jimmy James, which is more than I might have expected, to be honest.

Gregson and Matthew are abandoning the fishing (although they certainly did better with it than with the hunting), but Gregson still won't give the other thing a rest and Matthew wearily tells him his situation is tragic, "but you can't imagine I would let Edith slide into a life of scandal without lifting a finger to stop her?" Gregson wonders, then, if he should just take off before the ball, but Matthew suggests he use it to say a proper goodbye. But won't it be awkward to say those heartfelt words while reeling?

Back at the fair, everyone's on rides and seriously, the show has to be having fun with this now, because Edna takes Branson's hand on the merry-go-round and then we cut to Mrs. Hughes watching them like she's in hot pursuit from a few horses back. She's only missing a trench coat and sunglasses to make this a Cold-War-era spy adventure. Elsewhere, Jimmy James is using his cash to get pissed with ten new best friends, while Daisy and Ivy finally get around to checking out the games. Ivy wants to do a ring toss at which you could win a gold sovereign, but Daisy thinks it's far too expensive given that it's surely rigged anyway. Jimmy James, however, stumbles up and fronts the money for both of them to play and then wanders off without paying any mind to Daisy's warning that he shouldn't be flashing his cash about. Ivy takes her turns without success, but Daisy's first throw surrounds the block of wood on top of which the sovereign sits, so the proprietor plucks it off the thing and hands it over to her with a smile. Ivy says she told her they were honest, but as they walk away, the proprietor grits through his smile to a lad to him that he told him "to make the blocks too wide for the bally rings." Heh.

At the spice booth, Alfred thanks Mrs. Hughes for not spilling to Carson about the little sit-down he and Jimmy James had in the drawing room and she good-humoredly tells him not to do it again. She then spies Isobel and Dr. Clarkson, but she doesn't get to remark much on that before Alfred tells her he knows he belongs cooking. I suppose that will be a gender-based issue in Season Four -- a man doing a job at Downton traditionally reserved for women. As if Carson hasn't had enough of an education this season. Mrs. Hughes says that whatever he does, his time at Downton won't have been wasted and then she gets That Look again as she sees Tufton carrying one with two more women of questionable reputation. Alfred asks what's wrong and she says it's nothing, but I bet she suddenly wishes she could trade places with Carson.

Elsewhere, Isobel is telling Dr. Clarkson that the fair is great fun and after she suggests they sit for a bit, he offers to get her some punch first, as he'd like to ask her something. Meanwhile, Tufton is similarly bringing Mrs. Patmore a drink and it seems like, despite conducting himself with less restraint than a horny teenager, he is kind of interested in this whole marriage thing -- but it seems equally clear that he's only after her for her cooking abilities. Mrs. Patmore doesn't seem overly thrilled even at the former prospect and then notes that Jimmy James has moved from stumbling to staggering. He wanders off...

...and down a path that leads him to an underpass, where two of the toughs from the tug-of-war grab him, presumably with the intent of relieving him of whatever winnings are still in his possession. Thomas appears, though, and tells them to let him go before charging them; in the ensuing struggle, Jimmy James gets free and Thomas yells at him to run before one of the guys starts beating the crap out of him while the other holds him. Jimmy James, in little enough shape to help, takes Thomas' advice...

...while Dr. Clarkson downs a bit of liquid courage before rejoining Isobel. She asks him what he wanted to talk to her about, wondering if he's thinking of asking her back to the hospital, but that's not it -- has she ever thought of marrying again? Whether she had prepared for this contingency or not, she deftly manages to reject him as gently as possible, saying that if he's thinking of getting married, "you're a better man than I am, Gunga Din." Heh. She goes on that "with good friends like you" (ouch, but it had to be said), she likes her life as it is and she wouldn't want to risk that. Dr. Clarkson does not seem let down as easy as she probably hoped, but thankfully, Jimmy James managed not to pass out on the way back up, and he rushes over and tells Dr. Clarkson he's got to come immediately. The two non-lovebirds get up...

...while back at Duneagle, Rose models a backless dress, which Susan, in front of Shrimpie and the Dowager Countess, quickly informs her she won't be wearing. Rose begs her father to stick up for her and adds that Princess Mary has a dress just like it, but Susan says she looks like a "slut" (the Dowager Countess notes that's not a word you hear every day up there) and asks the Dowager Countess to take her side. The Dowager Countess, however, confesses that she participated in several fashion atrocities in her day, so she's hardly in a position to criticize. Then Shrimpie ends this part of the discussion by ordering Rose to take the Dowager Countess through to the ballroom. The Dowager Countess relays stories of her first Gillies' Ball (in 1860, don't you know) as Susan tells Shrimpie not to blame her if Rose is the object of ridicule. Shrimpie: "I won't, whatever else I might blame you for." Shrimpie's all grown up, yo. He bellows at her to stop making everyone else so unhappy all the time, which is of course Lord Grantham's cue to stop on the stairs all Un!Comfortable! He walks past and Shrimpie goes with him, leaving Susan to draw a ragged, sad breath...

...while, in the land of more physical beatings, Dr. Clarkson tends to a bloody, battered Thomas as the rest of the Downton crowd looks on in concern. Isobel's voice rings out even more pronounced than usual thanks to the underpass acoustics as she asks if there's any chance of apprehending the culprits, but Alfred replies that he doesn't think so. Mrs. Hughes notes that it's not like Thomas to fight and Thomas' ensuing look at Jimmy James doesn't exactly go unnoticed. Branson asks what they took and Thomas tells him it was every penny he had on him, which luckily didn't amount to much. Dr. Clarkson announces that nothing's broken, so Isobel orders everyone to get Thomas home and Alfred is quick to help carry him out past a guilty-looking Jimmy James. Well, if nothing else, it sure looks like he sobered up in a hurry.

Back at Downton, Carson is roaming the halls upstairs when baby Sybil starts crying. I guess the nanny has stepped away, but Carson unhesitatingly and surprisingly soothingly picks her up and suggests they "have a little chat about it." Sybil calms down almost immediately. After a season with me, you know what's coming: Awwww.

The ball has begun, with some people sitting on the chairs lining the walls but most of them dancing. Mary thinks they all should join in, but Bates cites his "built-in excuse," while Matthew doesn't think he'd fare much better. Anna, for her part, is cagey about whether she'll participate, while Molesley is showing no such reticence. Susan, for her part, happily greets O'Brien and tells her that Wilkins has been doing her best to copy her teachings. O'Brien says she looks very nice, but Susan drops the smile and says it's not quite right yet before leaving them and how Wilkins thinks O'Brien is the problem here is beyond me, but when O'Brien declares her intention to find a drink, Wilkins tells her she'll fetch it, as she's the guest. And someone who's not having any trouble finding drinks is Rose, who's downing whatever's being served to her with extreme prejudice; when Cora cautions her it's rather strong, Rose replies, "I should jolly well hope so." I know a fair in Yorkshire at which Rose would have had a good time. The Dowager Countess offers that Susan isn't herself, but Rose disagrees: "She's absolutely herself. That's the problem!" I haven't been to near as many Gillies' Balls as you, Lady Grantham, but I tend to believe Rose on this one. After Rose walks away, The Dowager Countess sighs: "It's bad enough parenting a child when you like each other!" In other words, when you're not mother and daughter?

Wilkins asks the hunting teacher if she could trouble him for some whiskey from his flask, and when he expresses surprise if it's for her, she tells him no -- it's "for a guest from the south." Wilkins, you work for Susan in the Highlands and you don't drink? It's your own fault you're in such a bad mood. She pours the whiskey into a cup...

...while Carson is still dandling baby Sybil when Mrs. Hughes enters and smiles that while she has some stories to tell, "you've spent your day more productively, I see." Carson admits he was thinking about Sybil when she was a baby and Mrs. Hughes tells him all they can do now is cherish the child. "And it's lovely to watch you doing just that." He admonishes her for getting sentimental, but come on! I'm... I mean, "she's" not made of stone here!

The reeling has started and as the people dance, the Dowager Countess asks Lord Grantham where Shrimpie is. Lord Grantham sighs that he's hiding and he'll go in search of him in a bit. Meanwhile, Wilkins drops the drink off with O'Brien, but after one sip, it's clear she tastes the alcohol and I wonder if maybe we're supposed to imagine that O'Brien told Wilkins she doesn't drink now, because how else would you assume that someone named "O'Brien" wouldn't catch the taste of whiskey? (Honestly, I feel like some of this subplot must have been cut, because it's playing thin and weak, which are not adjective normally associated with O'Brien storylines.) She puts the thing down, whereupon Molesley picks it up and downs it in one gulp and I know he's only here to be the court jester, but haven't they done a plot with him getting unknowingly wasted before?

Lord Grantham has tracked Shrimpie to the billiard room, wherein he asks if things were always this bad. Shrimpie tells him no -- he and Susan weren't madly in love, but there was a job to be done and they both believed in it. Interesting that these two got together on ideological grounds and grew to hate each other, whereas Lord Grantham chose Cora purely for her money and then came to love her. Shrimpie goes on that their three children kept them busy for years, but with their rapidly emptying nest, they've realized how little they have in common and this, too, is an interesting contrast with Downton, where Sybil was the only one to leave and that didn't stick for long. Lord Grantham casts about for something to say before asking why Susan is so hard on Rose, and Shrimpie thinks perhaps Rose reminds her of him. "Me, when I had something to live for." Lord Grantham, of course, takes exception to that statement and starts to talk about what a wonder Duneagle is, but that's the wrong thing to say, as Shrimpie confesses the money to run the place is gone and laments the fact that he didn't follow Lord Grantham's lead and modernize before it was too late. Sounds like he should have invited Matthew up earlier. Lord Grantham tells him he's sorry, but Shrimpie turns the subject: "What are we going to do about Rose?" Lord Grantham looks at him, and I'm honestly not sure if his expression is saying "Wait, I have an idea" or "Oh, HELL no."

Back downstairs, the violinists start playing a new piece, at which point Rose excitedly rushes to grab Anna, as this is the song to which she taught her to dance. When Mary sees Anna reeling, she's delighted and impressed and tells Bates how marvelous she is. As romantic music swells, he agrees; find her as impressive as you want, Bates, but I would have preferred to keep listening to the Scottish strains.

Mrs. Patmore comes in with some tea for Mrs. Hughes and tells her she was right -- Tufton said he loves her. Mrs. Hughes is like, yeeeeeah, so Mrs. Patmore asks what's up, and after they take a seat, Mrs. Hughes details the list of grossness she saw from Tufton. Mrs. Patmore realizes that, as I said before, he was after her cooking... not that I think he wouldn't have had sex with her, too. He just wouldn't have been faithful in either domain. Mrs. Hughes tries to console her, but it turns out Mrs. Patmore is relieved, as the more he talked about how he likes his food, the more she wanted to get away. Mrs. Hughes can scarcely believe it and wonders what happens if he returns, but Mrs. Patmore retorts, "He'll get a thick ear and no mistake!" Man, I love these two together. Mrs. Patmore does wonder how he could lead a poor woman on like that, but Mrs. Hughes is ready, as she dryly quotes Tufton's disgusting earlier assertion that "[he loves] to be in love." After a pause of just the right length, they both bust out laughing, and they're not the only ones.

Gregson has apparently confessed to Edith the details of his conversation with Matthew and Edith deems Matthew's reaction "disappointing" before telling Gregson that regardless, she's going to keep seeing him. He's charmed and I'll say this for him: He doesn't dither about like a certain elder statesman I could mention. Molesley then starts dancing around like a drunken fool and I'm sure we can just skip past that, except for the part where O'Brien asks Wilkins if she's proud of her handiwork before thanking her. Wilkins wonders what for, and people should really know not to ask such a question of someone who's so likely to produce a humdinger of an answer, to wit: "Because I need never be held back by any sense of loyalty to you." With that, she heads over to talk to Susan, but we don't find out the result...

...which as just as well, because there are FAR more important things happening at Downton or at least for those of us for whom Branson finally taking his shirt off is important news. He's startled when Edna comes in to report that Thomas is feeling much better and although he tells her she should go, he stares at her like he's hypnotized as she slides forward and tells him she's had a lovely day, invites him to lunch at the Grantham Arms the day and kisses him. He doesn't pull away, but does kind of just stand frozen until she leaves. And can we consider what a crime against nature it is that that's the most action he's gotten in over a year?

Back at Duneagle, Mary, it seems, was able to help herself no longer and is dancing with her husband as even O'Brien joins in. Pretty much everyone of note is up and about at this point save the Dowager Countess, but soon, Mary puts a hand to her stomach and heads to a nearby chair. Matthew chases her and she confesses she probably shouldn't have given in to the allure of the dance. She then quickly assures him everything's fine, but says that she should leave the day with Anna, although he should stay. He protests, of course, but she tells him if he leaves, her parents will think they have to go home also and that will ruin things for Susan and Shrimpie, which she doesn't want. Matthew pulls that hilarious grumpy face of his, but Mary breaks it by using Molesley -- who else -- for a last bit of comic relief.

The day, Carson comes in to announce that Mary and Anna are returning that day, so Mrs. Hughes asks Edna to air out the room and make up the bed. Edna asks if she must, at which point Mrs. Hughes and Carson both turn back to look at her, with Mrs. Hughes especially looking like she just sprouted a second and third head. Edna confesses that she's supposed to meet "Tom Branson" for lunch, which sends Mrs. Hughes and Carson out to the hall for a little confab. Mrs. Hughes says that before Carson starts, it may not be Branson's fault, but Carson says that either way, Edna's got to go. Mrs. Hughes wholeheartedly agrees with that part of the equation. She asks who will tell Branson and Carson says she'd better do it. "I'd only be rude, which wouldn't help anyone." But you're so close with the man's daughter!

Cora's still in bed with her tray when Susan comes in and asks if she's heard about Mary. Cora tells her she has, from Anna via O'Brien and hopes she doesn't think Mary rude, as she knows Susan hasn't always approved of her. Susan, however, thinks Mary having a baby merits some leeway, "and as for the other business, I'm not as harsh as I was. Rose is proving quite an education." Hmm, I guess Mary's scandal with Mr. Pamuk made it this far north? I hadn't thought about it, but I don't suppose it's that surprising. Susan confesses that she worries about Rose in every waking moment and Cora tells her she understands that better than anyone else there could. Susan then brings up the fact that Shrimpie wants Rose to live at Downton while they're abroad and Cora says she already told Lord Grantham she'd never agree to that against Susan's wishes, but while Susan thanks her for that, she admits now she thinks he's right. She echoes the Dowager Countess in smiling that she can't bring Rose out from Bombay, but wonders if Cora is prepared for all that? She is, but asks what will happen with Susan and Shrimpie, so Susan tells her they'll forge ahead as their sort never accepts defeat. She stands, but in a slightly more remorseful tone of voice, adds, "Even if I wish we could." Susan makes one final request that Cora speak well of her while Rose is at Downton, and Cora tells her to go to hell. Oh come on... of course she says she will.

Branson has gotten the news and he immediately blames himself; Mrs. Hughes doesn't go that far, but does admit that the work would no longer satisfy Edna and she's seen this kind of thing before. Branson says he didn't encourage Edna, but Mrs. Hughes feels the need to point out that he didn't discourage her, either and as pro-Branson as I am, I'm glad to see that Mrs. Hughes will stick up for her maids in this way, even those she has to let go. Branson, who really looks fairly broken up, asks if Mrs. Hughes will please give Edna a decent reference and Mrs. Hughes looks a little discomfited, but says she will, "although I don't think she's cut out to be a housemaid." She asks for permission to speak frankly and when it's given, she reiterates that he allowed Edna to make him ashamed of his new life, but he's done well. "And Lady Sybil would be so proud." This COMPLETELY does Branson in, and he breaks down crying -- and this is no hands-over-face stuff; he looks like the funeral just happened -- and says he can't bear to be without her. Mrs. Hughes kindly sits, takes his hand and tells him he must bear it. "And one day, I hope -- and so would she -- you'll find someone to bear it with you." That's one of those statements that sounds good until you think about it; not many people want to hear their spouse going on and on about their dead predecessor, although Branson's got a better chance of finding one than most. She counsels him to be his own master and through his tears, he seems to feel a little bit better about himself.

No sooner has Mary gotten off the train than she pauses and the look of mixed fear and wonder can only mean that the child is on its way. Anna, dealing with the luggage, rushes over and asks if something's the matter, and Mary answers by asking the chauffeur if he'd please leave the bags for the moment and take her straight to the hospital. Anna starts to walk her along and Mary tells her to let Isobel know and to get a message to Matthew immediately...

...while up in the Highlands, storm clouds are brewing and obviously, you wouldn't normally blink an eye, but given that we haven't seen the slightest hint of precipitation up until now, I must inquire whether YOU GET IT. Matthew is just about to shoot a deer when a man from the house comes riding up with news...

...and then Carson rushes in and tells his staff that the whole family is returning the day. Mrs. Hughes then goes to deal with Edna, who's packed and ready to travel, but looks frankly a lot sadder about the situation than I would have expected. She tells Mrs. Hughes that she's as good as Branson and that there was nothing improper in what she did, although I'd point out that running off to the village for lunch without permission probably isn't in her contract. Mrs. Hughes keeps things more general, though, gently telling Edna that there are rules to a life in service and if she's not prepared to follow them, it's not the career for her. But, I mean, a life in service at a house with no smoking young Irishmen might work. It's not that small a niche. Edna leaves...

...while, speaking of leaving, Lord Grantham reports to Cora that there aren't any trains until the morning. Cora, of course, wishes she were already home, but she's surprised to learn that Lord Grantham can't wait to get out of there either. Lord Grantham tells her he was a fool to be jealous of Shrimpie and that "Downton will survive because of Matthew's vision." Cora's delighted to hear him say that, and gets more so as he tells her she always saw the truth, and of all the things he's thankful for -- Matthew, Downton, his family -- he's most grateful for her. Aw. They kiss lovingly...

...and then it's the morning, and Shrimpie and Susan are thanking Cora for taking in Rose, saying they'll make firm plans once they have a departure date. Meanwhile, in the background, Rose and Susan seem to share the most conciliatory moment we've seen, Shrimpie walks Cora to the carriage and tells her she wants Rose to see that family can be loving, adding that love is like riding or speaking French. "If you don't get the hang of it young, it's hard to learn it later." In addition to love, I'm sensing Shrimpie didn't learn a light touch with comparisons in his youth. Elsewhere, Edith asks Matthew what he said to Gregson and he tells her it was nothing, but she must know what has to happen. Edith: "Oh yes. We both know what happens ." Heh. Rose gives final thanks to Lord Grantham and the Downton crew departs.

At Downton, Anna tells Carson she's headed back to the hospital, as she's got what Mary needs and Carson of course is a nervous mother hen given that it's Mary, but he asks about the others coming back from Scotland and Anna tells him to have Matthew's car brought to the station so he can drive himself to the hospital, which seems like a fairly boring directive for something that's probably going to keep a lot of people up at night.

Mary's sitting up in bed in a hospital room, while outside it, Dr. Clarkson asks Isobel to help prepare her before thanking her for stopping him from making too big a fool of himself at the fair, as he'd had a lot to drink. Isobel plays the whole thing off before going in to take Mary's hand and Mary says she feels like she's only half herself without Matthew, and it's not like what's coming isn't a HUGE deal, but the show is still laying it on kind of thick. Isobel says he's on his way and besides, "you won't want him in the room until it's all over." Heh. After what looks like a fairly strong contraction, Mary says they have to ring Carson before berating herself for going up north, but Isobel tells her the baby will be fine -- slightly early, but nothing they can't handle. Dr. Clarkson then reappears, indicating it's time...

...while, in other delicate operations, Jimmy James steels himself and knocks on Thomas' door. Thomas's face is still a mess, but he's sitting up reading and brightens when he sees who it is, even as he asks what Jimmy James is doing up there. Jimmy James uncomfortably (I think it's as much due to guilt as anything else) tells him he wanted to make sure there wasn't too much harm done. Thomas makes a joke about it, but Jimmy James keeps serious as he tells Thomas he was very brave before apologizing for running off. Thomas, however, thinks Jimmy James sticking around would have ruined the point of the exercise and Jimmy James takes a moment to process this before wondering if Thomas was following him. Thomas sheepishly says he likes to keep an eye out for him and he'd been drinking -- so yes, he did follow him. Jimmy James asks why, but Thomas's smile is gone: "You know why." This is where I expected the conversation to end, but Jimmy James surprises me by pulling up a chair and sitting for a moment before telling Thomas that he could never give him what he wants, but Thomas tells him he knows that, and he doesn't ask for it. "But I'd like it if we could be friends." And while you may think Thomas is kidding himself to some degree, in the context of the time, I think it makes sense and is very positive. By that era's standards, he's never been closeted, but he's also never been able to be open with anyone -- note Carson's disgust with him -- so the degree to which this means something to him is plain. Jimmy James, with the first real smile he's given Thomas ever since he figured out what team he bats for, sincerely says if it's just friendship, he thinks he can manage that. Thomas thanks him and then hands him the paper, which Jimmy James reads to him. And I hope -- now that time has passed -- that O'Brien can see some humanitarian benefit to her plan ending in this manner.

On the phone, Carson looks like he might burst into tears and peals of laughter simultaneously, and then he's rushing downstairs and announcing Mary's through it and she and the baby are fine. Mrs. Hughes asks what sex the child is and Carson realizes he never thought to ask, as if a man who heard the word "entail" every day for decades would be likely to forget that little detail.

Mary's holding the child in her arms when Matthew, overwhelmed, appears in the door and asks, "Can this hot and dusty traveler come in?" Were the first-class cabins booked, then? Anna steps out as Matthew approaches, and Mary gives the child over: "Say hello to your son and heir." That brings up a question: Does the title officially have to pass to Matthew in order for the entail to be satisfied or could it go directly from Lord Grantham to his grandson? What? No reason. Matthew greets "my dearest little chap" before rasping that he wonders if he knows how much joy he brings with him; he then asks Mary how she is, really, and she admits she's both tired and relieved. She kind of answers my question (but not really; she's surely not taking into account the scenario that's going to happen) by saying that Downton is safe, adding that Lord Grantham must be dancing a jig. Matthew can barely keep it together as he says he's the one that's dancing and then hands the baby back to Mary as he tells her he's going to be a wonderful mother. Mary, her usual dryness exacerbated by having been awake for God knows how many hours, asks how he knows and he tells her it's because she's a wonderful woman. She hopes that she can be his version of herself, rather than Edith's or anyone else's and he promises her that she will, because the person she is with him is her true self. He tells her how happy she's made him and she teases him lightly as she wonders if he shouldn't be saying typically British (and Matthew-ish) things like "You'll be up and about in no time," but he says right now, he wants to tell her that he falls in love with her more every day, to which she makes a joke about scratching the car, and if you think I can resist the urge to talk about how that one's going to leave a mark, you fail to realize that I'm as tired as Mary after recapping two two-hour episodes in a row. They make adorable faces at the baby and then Mary says he should probably go give the family an update, but she'd like a proper kiss first. Happily, he obliges her and then they look at their son one last time...

...while, back at Downton, Edith and Branson download a bit about their respective experiences of the past week, while Isobel tells Cora and Lord Grantham that they'll be able to meet the baby soon enough. Lord Grantham proclaims the whole thing miraculous...

...while Matthew is speeding back to Downton in his convertible, still overjoyed...

...and Lord Grantham is remarking about how dark everything seemed for a while...

...and then Matthew -- looking around at how wonderful everything is -- fails to notice a car rise from below a hill...

...while the Dowager Countess intones that they don't always get their just desserts...

...and here it is. The driver of the other car gets out, so presumably Matthew swerved off the road to try to avoid him; it's not clear whether there was any actual impact between the two vehicles. Whatever the case, this attempt did not work out, as we see the convertible flipped over and Matthew lying beside it, eyes open in death. Mary tells Anna that the family will be there soon and she should inform Matthew that he can wait his turn, as he's seen the baby and the rest of them haven't. We cut back to Matthew -- blood now flowing freely out of his ear -- and then back to Mary. We push in on her holding the baby, taking in every detail and every movement and probably looking for the resemblance to Matthew... and we're out.

I mean, what can you really say, right? If Dan Stevens wanted to leave and the show couldn't contractually oblige him to stay, this was the only possibility -- it's not like there's any other believable path by which the character could make an exit. But ultimately, we have to judge what's on screen and in the wake of Sybil's death -- which, among other things, allowed Branson's character to develop -- this seems like, if you'll forgive me, overkill. On top of that, beyond the normal enjoyably soapy stuff and the usual wicked one-liners, there were many fewer showy storylines and developments that really worked this season; Thomas' arc had surprising resonance on levels both micro and macro (as did the whole Ethel storyline), everything that happened to Edith was both interesting and served a larger purpose and even the battle for Downton between Matthew and Lord Grantham bore fruit after a slow start -- but all that is overshadowed by this ending. Not that I don't think the show can make Season Four hay out of Matthew's death, but it seems evident that it was a struggle to wrap up his character in a meaningful way before sending Dan Stevens off to whatever post-Downton life he's going to have. Not to mention, with the focus obviously on that, this episode felt lacking in spots, with the Downton people at Duneagle reduced to supporting players for the most part and the O'Brien storyline -- as I already mentioned -- seeming indifferent at best. However, outside of contract issues, this season was quite strong (rather better than Season Two, I would say) and I'm looking forward to seeing it come back. Preferably at the same time as the UK airings. Hope to see you season!

John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His new film, a documentary on online privacy and the sale of personal data called Terms And Conditions May Apply, recently premiered at the Slamdance Film Festival in January. You can get news on it from the film's Twitter account. Also, you can email John at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.