Things with Harold have come to a head, and at a direct summons from Martha, Lord Grantham most unwillingly sets out for America to help as a character witness. Bates thinks he can't leave Anna at the moment and pleads with Mrs. Hughes to get involved, so Mrs. Hughes goes to Mary and tells her the version of the truth she related to Bates. Convinced, Mary goes to her father and gets him to take Thomas instead of Bates, and Thomas is unsurprisingly thrilled but still instructs Baxter to find out why Bates opted out – which Molesley happens to overhear. Anna thanks Mary for intervening, and Mary earnestly tells Anna she can confide anything to her, but Anna still can't bring herself to discuss it.
Isobel and Branson make a date to go to a political event in Ripon, but when the Dowager Countess comes down with a dreadful case of bronchitis, Isobel takes care of her instead. Branson goes to the rally and meets a young politically-minded woman, while Clarkson tells Isobel there's a real danger of the bronchitis turning into pneumonia, and with his nurses run off their feet thanks to a flu epidemic, Isobel tends to the not-completely-lucid Dowager Countess day and night, partially because she feels she owes it to the family and partially because the Dowager Countess is her bestie. The Dowager Countess comes out of it, thankfully, and she's not completely psyched to learn Isobel's the one who nursed her but seems to warm to the idea later.
Mary keeps after Blake, who tells her most of the landed estates aren't nearly maximizing what they could be doing with their land, probably because the owners aren't interested in working hard. Later, though, with most people out of the house for one reason or another, it's just Blake, Cora, and Mary for dinner, and Blake is interested in seeing the pigs that just arrived, so he and Mary head down – and find that the pigs have kicked over their water trough and are dying of dehydration. They work together all night to rescue them, getting themselves filthy in the process, which of course enables them to see each other in a new light. Throwing a spanner into the works, however, is the arrival of Lord Gillingham, who's passing through and spending the night – and who, as it happens, served together with Blake in the war. Lord Gillingham still seems quite taken with Mary, and the feeling still appears to be mutual even with Blake now possibly in the mix.
Edith has learned that the night Gregson arrived in Munich, after checking into his hotel he went out and never returned. She heads for London again, and Rose tags along, but runs off to meet up with Ross, leaving Rosamund to ask Edith to tell her what's got her so preoccupied. Under so much pressure, Edith breaks down and comes clean to Rosamund, who at least is at a distance from the rest of the family; she tells Rosamund she's planning to get an (illegal, of course) abortion. An emotional Rosamund, however, surprisingly and wonderfully tells her she'll support her whatever she does – including keeping the baby – but Edith doesn't think she can do that, so Rosamund resolves to go with her to the clinic or whatever. As they wait, Edith says she doesn't really want to do this but can't see how to get out of it – but when she hears the cries of a distraught woman, she changes her mind, although she isn't sure what her alternate plan is yet.
Ugh, Alfred writes that he's doing well at the Ritz, but since his father's ill, he's coming back for a visit and thought he'd drop by. Mrs. Hughes and Patmore, though. VERY UNDERSTANDABLY don't want any more nonsense from Daisy and Ivy, so they enlist Carson to head Alfred off and put him up at the pub. The day, though, Alfred comes by anyway, and with her still being off Jimmy James, Ivy's much nicer to Alfred, and if he drops out of the program just on the strength of a couple kind words from Ivy I swear I will boycott writing about all these lunkheads for eternity.
Finally, this time, with Lord Gillingham comes Green, and the people in the know go very dark in his presence. A livid Mrs. Hughes confronts him, warning him to "keep to the shadows," but whether he's flaunting it or not, he lets it be known that he went below stairs during Dame Nellie's concert, and if looks could kill, not only would he be dead thanks to Bates's gaze, but the rest of us would be caught in the fallout.
Our technological snapshot du episode comes in the form of a close-up on a Western Union telegraph, which a uniformed courier is bicycling up to the Abbey. Inside, breakfast has just been cleared and the servants bustle about, but someone who's not rushing to attend to his duties is Bates, who instead comes in to see Mrs. Hughes and somewhat disbelievingly announces that Lord Grantham is going to America. Mrs. Hughes is like whaaaa, but Bates lets us know that whatever was in the telegram is causing his Lordship to leave today, as something's happened to Harold. Mrs. Hughes realizes that Bates will have to go too, but he urgently says he can't leave Anna at this point in time. Anyone keeping count of how many times Mrs. Hughes has been caught between a rock and a hard place this season?
And her job isn't going to be made any easier by the temper Lord Grantham is in, as he fairly barks at Cora -- who's in bed with her breakfast -- that he doesn't know how Harold can put him in this position, and on top of that he doesn't understand why Martha insists on him coming. Cora points out that she obviously thinks it will make a difference to Harold's fate, and Lord Grantham, I know it's not your home country, but given that you negotiated Branson out of a dark hole it's hard for you to claim you couldn't possibly be of any use. Lord Grantham snits that he knows "plenty of relatives of English earls who belong in jail," and if that's true maybe you can take the trip as research for a chapter of your tell-all book. Cora merely regards her husband with sympathy and he seethes, "I suppose we've made the decision." You're a good man, Lord Grantham, but you'll never stand a chance against your wife.
Mary is also still eating, but it's Mrs. Hughes who's in to see her as Mary tells her she can't stop her father from going. Mrs. Hughes knows that, but she wonders if Mary might intervene to stop him from taking Bates, as his absence would be very tough on Anna at the moment. Mary is like, look, we love all of you but we do need you to do your jobs, and when Mrs. Hughes brings up a special circumstance, Mary replies that she'll have to know what it is in order to help. I guess the oath on her mother's grave was permanently broken the last time Mrs. Hughes blabbed, right?
Downstairs, Bates tells Anna he won't go, but Anna won't hear of it. I was going to wonder if she'd put on the same brave face if she knew what was coming later, but given that she starts crying as soon as she leaves the room, I'd put a small amount of money on "no."
Whatever Mrs. Hughes said, Mary was obviously convinced, as she's in with her father asking him to take Thomas instead of Bates, since Thomas was his valet for a good period and will be far more psyched for the trip anyway with "all those handsome stewards strutting down the boat deck." She's right, you know. Lord Grantham is like, how do you know about boys who like boys, and she replies, "I've been married. I know everything." If Matthew told her about university experimentation that he either observed or partook in, I have an idea for a DVD extra. Lord Grantham asks her just to please explain why Bates can't go, and while Mary says she can't, she goes on to add that if she could, "You'd agree with me." This seems to register with him, and when Bates enters with a suitcase in hand for Lord Grantham's shoes, Lord Grantham informs him that Mary has persuaded him Bates is more needed at home, "though why I couldn't tell you." I was going to mildly rebuke Lord Grantham for blowing up his daughter's spot like that, except it's probably better that Bates be assured that Lord Grantham doesn't know anything about Anna's trauma. Lord Grantham then heads downstairs to meet the expected Dowager Countess, leaving Bates to ask Mary quietly what she was told. Mary recites the version that Mrs. Hughes told him -- that Anna was… "attacked" by a ruffian who'd broken in. Bates castigates himself for being upstairs when it happened, but Mary gingerly assures him it wasn't his fault. "It wasn't hers, but it wasn't yours." Once again, she's right.
The Dowager Countess has arrived as expected, but as also was promised by last week's previouslies, she's got a cough. She and Rose head into the library, in which they find Branson, Edith, Napier and Blake discussing the imminent arrival of the pigs. The Dowager Countess asks Blake if he thinks they're a good idea, and Blake's answer is a qualified yes; good in theory, bad if the owners don't put in the necessary (and significant) work associated with them. The Dowager Countess is looking fairly ill already, but not so much that she doesn't realize he's being a bit disparaging, and Edith explains, "Mr. Blake is not under Mary's spell." No one has time to remark on Edith's equally disparaging (if much more wryly delivered) choice of words, though, as Isobel comes in; seeing the water Carson has just brought the Dowager Countess, she wonders if she's hot, as Isobel is so from just having walked up from the village. The Dowager Countess replies that she is in fact hot, but not from walking. Show, you've done enough on the Spanish flu front, I'm just going to say that right now.
Carson and Mrs. Hughes have an entirely too well-I-never-y chat about the fact that Bates is staying home, and Carson seems just as put out that Mrs. Hughes seems to be more in the know than he as he is about the fact of it. I mean, his eyes seem to be bugging out of his head in equal measure for both issues.
Downstairs, Jimmy James and Thomas are having an affable chat -- Jimmy James is envious of Thomas's lot, and when Thomas asks if Jimmy James wouldn't miss Ivy were it he going, he replies that nothing's going to come of that. That's what she said!
Cora thanks Lord Grantham for going on this errand for her, and is it my imagination or did they recently start making Hugh Bonneville up to look older? It had to happen sometime, but it's crossed the threshold of me noticing at this point. They walk out hand in hand to find the last of the luggage being secured in the car and Blake and Napier, the former of whom lets Lord Grantham know that Cora has given them permission to stay until they're done in a few weeks. Lord Grantham also spares a word for Edith, telling her to hang in and reiterating his offer to send a private dick, but she still thinks that would be a duplication of efforts. Still Edith, it can't hurt… can it? He's going to America; he could get a Pinkerton on the case. After some more cursory goodbyes (he does tell Rose that she's "in charge of fun" until he returns), Thomas tells Baxter he's looking forward to her report when he gets back -- a comment Molesley happens to overhear. Thomas goes on that as happy as he is to be taking Bates's spot, he still wants to know the reason for it, and Baxter looks pretty unpsyched about the prospect of more snoopery, but at least she's got some time to plan her move here. When the car is gone, the Dowager Countess lets on to Isobel that she doesn't feel at all well and when Isobel asks if she'd like her to accompany her home, the Dowager Countess replies, "That is the very last thing I would want." Isobel doesn't actually say "Well, I never!" unless you count her facial expression, which I most definitely do. The Dowager Countess chokes out a request to Carson to be taken home immediately. Carson, don't spare the whip on this one!
Inside, Mary asks Blake if the failure of the landed estates can be put down to lack of money, and Blake seems a bit surprised at her tenacity on the subject but replies that yes, it usually is -- yet the owners could often have avoided the situation by maximizing the revenue potential of their land. "So few are ready to adjust their way of life." Mary doesn't appreciate his seeming dearth of sympathy for the owners, but he's undaunted as he tells her that to farm an estate is hard work, and if the owners can't face that, "they don't deserve to keep what they have." Napier joins them and Mary tries to pull him in on her side as a fellow aristocrat, but Blake doesn't want to hear it and heads out. Will these two ever come out of their respective corners and find some common ground? In a pig's eye!
Branson is driving Isobel home as she tells him she worries about him not having a life outside the estate, and it does seems like he's stepped a bit into the role of surrogate son, which given his close relationship with Matthew seems both natural and nice. She asks what happened to his political interests and he tells her they vanished "along with a silly chauffeur chap named Branson." His wry tone obviates the need to point out the fact that he's driving right now, but Isobel does say that she doesn't believe that before telling him that the MP John Ward is speaking in Ripon the day, and she could get tickets for them. Branson initially declines, speculating that the MP is only coming because Lloyd George can feel an election coming on, but Isobel presses the point and Branson gives in on condition she be nice to him, "or I'll tell [the Dowager Countess] you called Lloyd George 'poor dear.'" Don't either of you dare; in the condition she's in, that might literally kill her.
Edith, sounding rather upset as per usual these days, asks Cora for leave to head to London the day, and when Cora asks if there's any news of Gregson, Edith tells her they figured out a bit more -- he arrived in Munich, checked into his hotel, went out that evening… and never returned. That does not sound promising, but Cora's more focused on Gregson's reason for being in Munich in the first place, and when Edith -- not meeting her mother's eyes -- tells her it was to see the castles of King Ludwig, Cora thinks if he'd been attacked he would have been found long ago. Rather than list the many scenarios that might not lead to his corpse being found, Edith simply sits with a distraught look on her face, so Cora pulls her close and tells her not to give up hope, adding that she can of course go to London. In tears, Edith asks Cora if she thinks she's a bad person and Cora smiles that she can be "a bit sharp-tongued" now and then, but not bad. Unwilling to accept that, however, Edith goes on that she sometimes has bad feelings, but Cora tells her that's universal. "It's acting on them that makes you bad." Good meeting!
Downstairs, Carson tells Mrs. Patmore that he's just got a letter from Alfred, who reports that he's doing well in the program; also, his father's ill, so he's coming home for a visit and hopes to look in at some point. This pretty much sums everything you "need" to know up: Ivy's newly Alfred-philic thanks to Jimmy James's grabby hands, Daisy's all "MROOOW! [Fffffft]" about the whole thing, and Mrs. Patmore looks like she'll be downing a snootful if this keeps up. !
Rose -- having heard the word "London" from rooms away like it's a whistle and she's a dog -- comes to ask Cora for permission to tag along; Cora's like, not until you're presented, missy, but Rose coaxes and wheedles about cheering Edith up and being in charge of fun and whatever else, so of course Cora caves. It's too bad Rosamund's going to have bigger things on her mind, because she's overdue for another come-to-Jesus meeting with this girl.
Mary's walking outside with Napier -- not sure how he has time for this when he's supposed to be touring the estates of Pauperville -- complaining about Blake some more, and Napier explains that Blake finds the way the owners submit like a mouse in the face of an approaching snake frustrating to no end. Mary wonders how Blake could think that about them, and Napier says he doesn't at the moment, "but he doubts you'd fight if it came to it." If it weren't a retread of her remark to Blake last episode, I'd expect Mary to say something about her storied history of fighting, but instead she waits for Napier to go on that Blake finds her "aloof." This one she can't let go as she hopes Napier stuck up for her, and he chuckles as he's like, well I did of course, but he doesn't take me at my word because I'm still totally in love with you even though snowballs have a better chance of not melting in Lucifer's own hand. Ha ha, funny right? Mary's all oh yes hilarious and is that the time, and Napier really is a decent bloke who needs to find a woman in his league like yesterday.
Edith is on the phone making an appointment in London before she tells Cora it's to have her hair done. It's an obvious lie, but I wonder if Cora will remember it when Edith's 'do ends up looking tragic in a few days or so.
With the servants sitting down to tea, Mrs. Hughes wonders where Carson is, so Daisy lets her know a telegram came earlier and he took it up to Cora. Anna thinks this means they got on a boat -- I assume the question was in doubt because of the rushed nature of the trip -- and after some talk of who'd like to go to America and who wouldn't, Carson arrives and happily announces that Lord Grantham indeed was able to book passage, and he'll sail the day. Anna laments having cost Bates the chance to go to America, which possibly jogs Molesley's memory as he asks Baxter what Thomas meant about expecting a report. Baxter declines to give a substantive answer, but she has to know that if even someone like Molesley is cottoning on to the nature of her relationship with Thomas, it's not going to go well for her popularity around here.
It's twilight, and as the Dowager Countess hacks away in her sickbed, Isobel enters and starts to say she had an impulse to check on her, which proves to have been well founded when she gets a good look at how ill the Dowager Countess appears. Feeling her forehead, she asks how long she's been like this and the Dowager Countess admits that she really doesn't feel well at all, so Isobel goes to fetch Dr. Clarkson, brushing aside the Dowager Countess's pleas for no fuss to be made. I'd say you'll thank her, milady, but I've seen the rest of the episode already.
Anna asks Mary how dinner was and Mary replies that it was "uphill. I'm so bored of Mr. Blake's cold shoulder." Seconded! She asks Anna if she's aloof as Blake claims, and Anna replies, "Do you want me to answer truthfully or like a lady's maid?" Hee. Mary dryly is like, I withdraw the question, but the mood darkens as Anna tells Mary she heard about her interceding with Lord Grantham, and that she's so very grateful. Mary tentatively wades into the subject by wondering if there's any way they can discover her assailant's identity, but Anna tells her the effort would be useless. Mary, her hesitant manner betraying the real concern she has for Anna, wonders if it still might not be worth describing him to the police, but Anna tells her that while she doesn't mind Mary knowing -- in fact, she's even glad that honesty between them has been restored -- she can't discuss it. With passion in her voice, Mary asks, "Even to me? Because I want to help. You've helped me, God knows, in the past, and now I want to help you." Anna takes a moment, but reiterates that she can't talk about it, not even to Mary. As Mary hangs her head in deference to Anna's pain, it occurs to me that Blake should witness this scene before calling Mary aloof again.
Carson comes in to bid goodnight to Mrs. Hughes and Patmore, only to be saddled with ridiculous nonsense as they suggest he put Alfred off from visiting so as not to stir up any more trouble with Daisy and Ivy. Better idea: Draw straws and toss either Daisy or Ivy into the furnace. (If you want to fix it so both straws are short, I won't say a word.)
Clarkson has just taken the Dowager Countess's temperature and reports that it's not flu as Isobel first suspected, but bronchitis. Speaking of flu, though, he pointedly goes on that there's a lot of it about and his nurses are already overworked, so he won't be able to spare any of them. Isobel assures him she can do whatever's necessary, but he cautions her that the Dowager Countess will need serious supervision or the illness might progress to pneumonia. Although he doesn't say it, the obvious implication is that it might turn out fatal for a woman of the Dowager Countess's age. He suggests they hire someone, but Isobel firmly tells him she can handle the treatment, which will involve keeping her temperature down and administering inhalants. I'm not doubting Isobel's skills, but staying awake night and day to care for the Dowager Countess won't do her own immune system any favors with fighting off the virus, and then where will we be?
Back at the Abbey, Branson reports that the pigs have arrived; Mary wishes she'd been there, but he tells her she was at the Dowager Countess's when the time came. Cora then asks if he got the message about the tickets, and Branson -- disappointed that Isobel can't go -- wonders if he'll bother now. Mary, however, says that just because they're not political shouldn't put him off. Not only that, but in these ever-changing times it can't hurt for them to have someone with his ear to the political ground, can it?
In London, Rosamund is suspicious of Rose's claim that she's off to run "errands," which is sensible, but she says she hopes drunk-assed Sir John isn't one of said errands, so Rose doesn't have to lie for this part as she assures her he's not. Edith's like, just let her go already, so Rosamund tells her to be home for dinner, and Rose runs off like I'msureIwillkthanksbai! Rosamund asks Edith what the hell "I'm sure I will" means, and instead of translating that it means no, obvs, Edith replies that she doesn't know why Cora let her come. Rosamund then asks Edith to tell her what's got her in such a funk, but Edith won't; however, we stay with these two into the scene back at the house, with them entering the sitting room as Rosamund asks why Edith is going out the night. Edith's attempts at evasion go nowhere as Rosamund (and if we want to talk sharp tongues in the family, lady is pretty good at making her meaning plain) informs Edith that she won't appreciate being put in a false position with Edith's parents, thank you very much. Edith reminds Rosamund of her declaration that she's not s spy, and this leads Rosamund to recall that Edith's last nightly visit was with Gregson -- and at the mention of his name, the dam finally breaks and Edith collapses into sobs. In an instant, Rosamund is transformed, going to Edith and holding her in her arms, and these days the show may not break that much ground from a character standpoint, but this unexpected outpouring of kindness from Rosamund -- who, you'll remember, let Edith have it with both barrels for giving it up -- is one of my very favorite things this season.
Against Edith's suffering is Rose, who's reclining in a rowboat propelled by Jack Ross without a care in the world. They pause under an arch bridge so Rose can tell him how happy she is to see him, and he returns the sentiment -- but then wonders what they can hope to come out of "all this." Rose, however, takes his hand as she declares she wants to be "in the moment," and even though Ross points out that her family is not likely to celebrate such open-mindedness, he can't resist (a) a request to take her to the club that night or (b) an invitation to kiss her. Both seem fairly scandalous, but no one's around to see this first part.
Edith has spilled her secret, and now she confesses she's not sure what frightens her more -- Gregson's disappearance or the prospect of the child. Rosamund, sounding like she knows the answer already, asks what Edith proposes to do and Edith has trouble saying the words, "but I've decided to get rid of it." Rosamund says that's terrible to hear, and when Edith tells her not to cover her relief, Rosamund emotionally admonishes her for being unfair: "I will support you whatever you decide, just as Cora will and [Lord Grantham]." Edith still doesn't suppose that she'd be welcome in Rosamund's home with a "charming bastard," but Rosamund shakes off the attempt to shock her by pointing out that Gregson could return, and then what would she say? Edith: "Nothing. I pray he is alive, but if he is I won't say a thing." Rosamund points out that her life from there on would be based on a lie, wondering if she's really considered that, but Edith knows this one: "I am killing the wanted child of a man I'm in love with, and you ask me if I've thought about it?" Rosamund, wiping her eyes, supposes that Edith's plan to be away for the night means she's booked into "some… place," pointing out that what she means to do is against the law and, far more importantly, dangerous. "What would I say to your parents if it goes wrong?" It's an awful thought indeed, but Edith merely replies she'd think of something, so Rosamund steels herself and says she'll accompany Edith, and I'll point out how once again the women on this show are dealing with events that would make the men swoon if they only knew about them.
Speaking of women doing unexpected things, it's a skeleton crew pre-dinner, as Mary and Cora are by themselves when Blake enters the sitting room. Mary -- probably aghast at the prospect of such undiluted Blake company -- asks where Napier is, but he's off dining with friends of his parents. Cora notes that he phoned earlier before adding that Branson's off at that meeting, so she's afraid it's just them. Blake replies that she shouldn't be afraid, but Mary's like, of course we are! "How can two brainless dullards like us ever hope to entertain Mr. Blake!" I can just picture Edith turning to her mother: "Yes, I'm the sharp-tongued one." Blake, however, can at least take it if he can dish it out, and he shrugs the comment off before asking if the pigs arrived. Mary, more conversationally, says that they did and that she's planning to go down the day, but Blake says he'll be out all tomorrow, so he suggests they go after dinner. Cora begs off, but even though it's a long walk, Mary of course can't decline without giving him more ammo, so it's a date!
Oh, here's Branson at the rally; there's only one seat open in the room, and when he asks the woman to it if it's taken, she tells him she's saving it for a friend. The speech then begins, and with the MP giving his opening remarks, the woman motions for Branson to take the seat after all. The MP then gets involved in a very "are you passing notes in class" (albeit good-humored) way that goes on for entirely too long, but the upshot is that Branson indeed takes the seat, and no sooner has he done so than does he start telling the woman in whispered tones about his Socialist background until some older dude shushes him, which in this case I have to support.
Pigs! It's still light out as Mary is telling Blake that they're going to try this batch out and then hopefully expand, and when Blake asks if they have a good pig-man, she replies that he comes highly recommended. However, possibly belying that, Blake's expression suddenly goes urgent, and he rushes over to a spot by the fence inside which one of the pigs is lying on its side. Blake tells Mary that the creature is almost dead from dehydration -- apparently the pigs kicked over their own water trough. Removing his jacket and hanging it on one of the posts, he hops into the sty to assess things. Mary laments the fact that they didn't drive, as it'll be quite a ways back to get the pig-man. Blake tells her there's no time and asks where the nearest water is, and when Mary tells him the barn, he picks up a couple buckets and heads that way, telling her they'll have to water the animals gradually or the shock to their systems will kill them. Mary tells him to wait a moment before grabbing two buckets herself, and thus proceeds a first date that's turning out to be one for the ages.
Post-rally, Branson walks down the stairs with the woman chatting about more political stuff; the upshot is that he's not going back to Socialist politics, with the unstated probable implication that it reminds him too much both of Sybil and of the Ireland to which he can still no longer return. He bids her goodnight, but I can't imagine the show introduced her just for this little bit, can you?
Isobel's reading when the Dowager Countess pipes up, "Does no one care if I live or die?" No disrespect, milady, but HOW CAN YOU ASK ME THAT? Isobel, however, takes no offense as she dabs the Dowager Countess's forehead with a damp cloth, and it's a good thing English tea is strong or she'd probably be asleep in that chair by now.
I think it's fair to say that Blake's tuxedo and Mary's dress will not be seeing any genteel company for a while, as they rush about in the muddy barn until Mary's shoe gets stuck and she falls on her noble derriere in pulling it out. She refuses a hand up, though, and gets back to work although her face reads "I hope this turns out to be the best bacon I've ever had."
Here's Carson having a glass of something when Mrs. Hughes comes in and gives him a job well done for "containing the Downton Heartbreaker," and DEAR LORD could this never-ending subplot be any duller; in more interesting news, Carson says he's only still up because Mary hasn't yet returned and wonders what he should do about locking up. Mrs. Hughes suggests he leave the front door open and the key in the lock so they can turn it behind them, and I'm glad such affairs of state have now been settled.
Despite the late hour, Mary and Blake are still at it, but the oinking we hear suggests things are looking up, and Blake says he'll watch them for another hour and give them one more drink. So obviously, Mary is now going to see that at least Blake puts his practical knowledge where his mouth is, and Blake has an idea that Mary is literally willing to roll up her sleeves and do whatever it takes. Blake suggests Mary go, but she's like, of course I'm staying, they're my pigs! She does at least accept his jacket to wrap up in as he offers that it's not quite the evening they planned, and she replies by displaying her muddy dress and asking what she looks like. He playfully tells her it appears she belongs in country life: "Lady Mary Crawley, seen here to advantage relaxing at the family seat in Yorkshire." He knows pigs and, despite all contrary indications, he's got a sense of humor! Mary laughs, and then they decorate each other's faces with mud, because why the hell not at this point?
Oh and here's Rose, slipping back in and finding Edith's light still on; she pauses irresolutely before heading to it. Edith, upon asking where she's been and getting only vague prattle in response, asks why Rose can't just fit in for once before killing the light. It's a good way to end an annoying scene; I wish more people knew about it.
Mary and Blake have finally made it back, and in the kitchen, Mary whips up a few eggs and puts them on the stove. When she soon after puts the fruits of her labor on the table with two glasses of wine, he remarks that he wouldn't have guessed, and I think I've been pretty clear that I love Mary, but this is a surprise to me too. She does confess that scrambling eggs is about the limit of her culinary talent, but happily, her propensity for wordplay is much stronger as she offers that he "saved our bacon, literally." They note the surprises about each other they learned this night, and he brightly admits that they were good discoveries. Mary seems gratified that he feels that way before noting how everyone went to bed "without the slightest concern about us," and it does seem odd that Branson didn't drive down given how quickly word usually travels around here. Ivy then comes in and does an impressive job of not falling over in shock once she sees the scene in front of her, but with her usual aplomb in front of the servants, Mary tells her (after having to get her name, which HA) that if she's getting up, it's time for them to go to bed, and would she please tell Anna that she'll ring when she's awake? Ivy's too busy silently flipping her shit to reply, but for the sake of Mary getting some sleep I hope she gets herself together.
Oh, here are Rosamund and Edith getting out of a cab at the "some… place," and while Rosamund continues not to be thrilled, she braces herself and rings the bell. After they're shown in, Edith tells Rosamund she doesn't have to stay, but Rosamund pish-poshes that, after which Edith emotionally says she does love Gregson, and she would have loved his child. "But I just… can't see over the top of this." Rosamund gets that, and Edith goes on that she doesn't want to be a societal outcast -- "some funny woman living in Maida Vale people never talk about" -- and Rosamund understands, adding that she can't wrap her head around the whole thing either other than to wish it were over. Edith seems on the verge of another breakdown as she says she'll never be able to set foot in the Downton nursery again; then, when she hears some cries of despair from inside, she gets up and takes a look at a woman down the hall who's just been through the procedure. I'm sure that intellectually, Edith didn't expect that people would be like skipping out of there, but seeing this with her own eyes suddenly makes it all too real, and she tells an appearing nurse that she made a mistake and gets the hell out of there. It's not exactly After Tiller, but it's moving stuff and I like Rosamund's choice merely to reiterate Edith's words before following her instead of making some grander speech. Like I said, I'm into her character development; I kind of wish they could somehow make her a regular but Samantha Bond does a lot with what she's given.
Rose is acting like a spoiled brat about the sudden change in plans to return to Downton now, but Edith and Rosamund are unmoved so she stomps off, after which Rosamund asks Edith if she's going to come clean to Cora. Edith supposes she'll have to at some stage, and Rosamund offers to lend support to Edith if she so desires AND I HOPE SHE DOES INDEED. She assures Edith they'll find a way forward, and Edith doesn't look nearly so optimistic but notes that the decision has now been made. I haven't a clue how this is going to work out; it's great. And while I'm up, although I was most interested in Edith in Season 2, Laura Carmichael has been amazingly consistent given what an unappreciated role she plays. I want to pay more attention to Edith, but I always forget, which I guess is the point.
At whatever hour it may be, Mary makes her appearance; Blake has beaten her to the library and as such has already regaled Branson with tales of dehydrated pigs. Cora then rushes in and asks Mary if she remembers that Lord Gillingham is coming that evening, and Mary's taken aback, but as it happens Lord Gillingham is on his way north and asked if he could spend the night. In other surprises, it turns out Blake served with Lord Gillingham in the war; Cora then apologetically tells Mary she tried to put Lord Gillingham off, but he was insistent and Mary tells her she's fine, which she proves without question by leaving the room not two minutes after she entered. However, Napier follows and congratulates her on her success with the pigs before "joking" that her newfound détente with Blake has "increased the competition." Napier, I'd tell you you're not involved in any competition, but that would hardly be likely to brighten your mood. (He's such a steady chap, though! Edith?)
Oh for fuck's sake, Alfred has showed up at the house despite all the machinations designed to stop him, and to make it worse, this means we have to endure poorly-executed covering about the stupid flu lie. I give Jimmy James a nod for his surly "how can we miss you if you won't go away" attitude, but Ivy doesn't share it, and Alfred's like, did you really miss me Ivy like he's going to propose marriage right here if she repeats it and DIE ALL OF YOU NOW, NO LIE. Daisy at least seems maybe to figure out what's going on, but then Carson walks in and he and Mrs. Hughes and Patmore have a ridiculous meeting while Alfred tells Ivy "you've given me something to think about" and I WILL SHOOT YOUR GIANT DOOFUS ASS IF YOU DARKEN THIS DOORSTEP AGAIN.
The Dowager Countess is sitting up in bed looking much improved as Isobel tells her it's a great sign that she's hungry; she then runs off to get the Dowager Countess a piece of toast, after which the Dowager Countess asks Clarkson to "take that madwoman with you" when he goes. However, he steps forward and gently informs her that "that madwoman" has been by her side for two days and nights and hasn't slept nor eaten (not eaten with the Dowager Countess's servants at her beck and call?), and when the Dowager Countess confusedly says there were nurses with her, Clarkson informs her it was only Isobel -- Cora and Mary volunteered to help, but Isobel felt she had more knowledge than they. The Dowager Countess: "That has the ring of truth." She really is feeling better. Isobel then returns and brightly announces that toast and tea are on the way, at which point Clarkson tells her it's time for her to rest. She says she will but asks if she should come back later, and the Dowager Countess -- with a furtive look Clarkson's way -- tells her that would be very kind, although the finish of those words doesn't seem to agree with her. Isobel adds that she can stay all evening and they can play cards, and the Dowager Countess looks like she's considering getting ill again. When Isobel's gone, Clarkson tells the Dowager Countess she'll be rewarded in heaven, and given how much time Isobel spends with both Clarkson and the Dowager Countess I guess I'm not sure why they're suddenly acting like she's this much of a social chore?
Oh dear; accompanying Lord Gillingham this time is Green, and he turns up below stairs. Most people are clueless, but Bates regards him appraisingly; his look is colder than I would have expected, but that's made up for by the almost blinding fury coming off Mrs. Hughes. Anna then enters and almost has a heart attack on the spot, but she holds it together sufficiently to ask Baxter for some white thread without giving herself away. When she's gone, Mrs. Hughes follows, and I'm not saying she's capable of it but if anyone in this house has the knowledge to commit a pretty murder while neatly covering her tracks, it's she.
Ah, here's Lord Gillingham! As equivocal as Mary may have seemed earlier, she looks delighted to see him now, and she doesn't even seem to mind when he tells her how much he's missed her, although she does ask after Mabel. Lord Gillingham doesn't answer, instead turning the conversation to the slightly less-charged topic of Blake; after she explains his business, he asks her not to like Blake more than she does him, and she quickly replies that there's no chance of that. I wonder about that, but at least Blake hasn't kissed her on the rolling hills of Downton yet. They reach the sitting room, whereupon Lord Gillingham greets Blake warmly and gets further caught up on his country business, including the little pig-scapade of the evening prior. Mary doesn't like Lord Gillingham so much that she's unwilling to fire some light flirting with Blake across his bow. Lord Gillingham then settles into a chair as he asks Blake what the chances for Downton are, and Blake replies that they're bright now that he knows that Mary and her family mean to give it everything they've got. Hey, Napier? This is a competition.
Mrs. Hughes finds Green in the boot room; she closes the door and, as her Scottish accent goes to eleven, tells him she knows what he's done, and if he has any idea what's good for him he'll keep to the shadows. Green regards her appraisingly before trying to sell the idea that he and Anna both were a bit drunk that night, but Mrs. Hughes isn't buying any such bullshit. Green asks if Bates knows, and Mrs. Hughes (I guess she thinks this is the best threat) is truthful in saying he's unaware it was Green. He thanks her for that, but she spits at him not to do any such thing. "I've not kept silent for your sake!" I'd say Green was actually taken aback if I knew that weren't true.
Isobel and the Dowager Countess are playing gin, and I don't know if she's had an attitude adjustment but if not the Dowager Countess certainly is doing a better job at feigning enjoying herself. You tell me after you listen to her "Goody goody!" at the prospect of the game going on for ages.
Jimmy James complains that he spent half the day brushing mud out of Blake's dinner jacket and wonders why he doesn't have his own valet. Meanwhile, Anna gets caught staring at Green, but she seems to be doing an okay job of handling the situation -- Bates sitting to her can't hurt -- until Baxter talks about how the Dame Nellie concert preceded her employment and she's sorry to have missed it. Green, however, says she screamed and screeched until he couldn't take it anymore -- so he "came down here for a bit of peace and quiet." He's taunting everyone in the know, and although they can't say anything, Bates and Anna exchange a look that doesn't escape Baxter. She's pretty good at intelligence-gathering, even if she doesn't really enjoy it. When no one's looking, Bates gives Green a basilisk stare, and I feel like this show is exhibiting its Gosford Park DNA in that it's probably going to be a race between different parties to kill him first. See you time for the last episode of the British regular season (with the Christmas special to conclude PBS's coverage).
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His new film, a documentary on online privacy and the exploitation of personal data called Terms And Conditions May Apply, a New York Times Critics' Pick, is now on iTunes here. You can get news on it from the film's Twitter accountor website, or check out trackoff.us to learn how to protect your privacy. 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.