Months have passed since we left off, and the family are all either already in London at Grantham House preparing for Rose's coming out or planning to come soon. Thomas is still trying to be the boss of Baxter, who seems like she's cottoning on to the Bates secret, but a talk from Molesley makes her stand resolute in the face of whatever it is Thomas has over her. Speaking of Thomas, he's unaccountably bitter at having to wait on Branson with almost everyone else in London. Branson then runs into Ms. Bunting, who accuses him of having been avoiding her, but that doesn't hold much water when he invites her to dinner at the Grantham Arms. She wrangles an invitation to see the Abbey, and of course Thomas catches them upstairs and smiles a reptilian smile – and soon he's blabbed to Lord Grantham, although nothing in particular seems to come of it.
With the two of them getting ready to go to London, Edith and the Dowager Countess discuss the baby, a girl as it turned out, who's with a "Mr. and Mrs. Schroeder" in Geneva. Later, Edith confesses to Rosamund that she's having second thoughts, adding that she's learned Gregson ran afoul of some brownshirts in Munich. With it seeming more and more likely that he's dead, she realizes that she's almost surely going to come into his estate, and as such wants to give half of it to the child. Rosamund counsels her to do so anonymously if at all, adding that exposing the kid now could mean the end of Edith's chances at another love and other children, but with a word from Branson later about how the two of them need to stand up to the rest of the family, she decides to revisit the Continent – with the plan to retrieve the child and set her up with Drewe as she originally wanted, and Drewe is so trustworthy he concocts a plan that won't even let his wife in on the secret.
Anna donates an old overcoat of Bates's for a clothing drive – and in it, Mrs. Hughes finds an incriminating train ticket to London from the day of Green's death. She brings it to Mary for judgment, but tells her that for her part, she won't condemn Bates even if he did have a hand, such as it were, in Green's death – but Mary doesn't have such an easy time accepting it, even letting on to Bates that she knows something, which looks like a dangerous game.
Meanwhile, Rose goes out jazzing with a friend, whose father it so happens is out at the same club – with the Prince of Wales, who's familiar with Lord Flintshire and takes an immediate shine to Rose, such that when Rose is presented, the King himself says a few words to her. Later, Rosamund turns up to one of the attendant social events at Grantham House – with Sampson, the card-cheater Gregson exposed. He invites himself out with the jazz group and stoops low enough as to steal an embarrassing letter from the purse of one of Rose's friends (the historical Freda Dudley Ward, mistress of the Prince of Wales; the letter here reveals same) when she's off dancing (and it was Rose herself who incautiously blabbed about its presence), and when Mrs. Ward tells Rose it's missing, she goes to Lord Grantham to let him in on the situation. Realizing the magnitude of the potential scandal, the unlikely pair of them recruit Bates to have "a friend of his" forge a letter that will gain them access to Sampson's flat.
They then pull Cora and Mary in, as Mary's going to have to go along to retrieve the letter – Lord Grantham will be diverting Sampson with another card game, while Rose, he seems to believe, is too young to be sent into the lion's den like that alone. It takes quite of bit of planning to (not entirely successfully) overcome all the social requirements going on without arousing suspicion, but soon the card game is proceeding apace and Mary and Rose, with Blake for protection, are in Sampson's very modest, as it turns out, flat. The excursion proves fruitless, however – except Bates thinks to check Sampson's overcoat and finds the letter in the inside breast pocket, which he passes to Lord Grantham. This move by Bates is enough to get Mary to back off him, and she tosses the ticket stub into her fireplace. Meanwhile, the aversion of the scandal prompts the Prince to show up to the ball and open it by dancing with Rose, which is something she'll probably find a way to rub in her mother's face.
Martha and Harold turn up, and in case you don't read casting spoilers Harold is played by Paul Giamatti. He boorishly blabs to one of Rose's contemporaries, a "Miss Madeleine Allsop" (whose father, to be fair, is working his mother with an eye on her purse) that when Martha dies, the capital of his father's estate will revert to him. Madeleine is crushed at his cavalier attitude, and he feels remorse over that, so he arranges to take her on a picnic that turns into a production with half the upstairs guests attending. They get to know and like each other while laughing at how much his mother hates her moneygrubbing father, which is in fact fairly hilare. Harold also takes a shine to Daisy's cooking and his valet to Daisy herself, and soon the valet gives her the news that Harold wants to bring her to America in his employ. Daisy turns him down, though, because of reasons I guess – but Ivy steps in to ask if she can take the spot instead, so we're finally shut of her and Alfred, praise be.
Finally, Lord Gillingham sits Mary down for a state-of-the-suitors talk, and when she expresses how she doesn't know about a future with Blake because of his being so anti-noble, Lord Gillingham reluctantly tells her that Blake in fact stands to inherit a rather lucrative baronetcy. The bad news for Lord Gillingham is that the news definitely elevates Blake in her eyes; the good news, as she tells him, is that she no longer feels committed to a life alone. If the lack of resolution means more Blake and Gillingham season, I'm completely fine with it.
So as my college Italian teacher used to say, siamo in crisi right from the start, as Mrs. Hughes's counterpart at Grantham House in London has taken ill and won't return for some weeks, which is unfortunate timing given that everyone is either already in London or is going there for Rose's coming out, which I'm glad is finally happening so she'll be free to go to London whenever she wants and stop dragging the rest of us into it. So Mrs. Hughes and Daisy are going to head to London immediately, with Ivy staying behind to cook for Branson and Edith. Speaking of, Ivy asks how it is that Edith could go to Geneva for eight months and come back looking more tired than when she left, but Mrs. Hughes is like, don't talk to me about tired when I'm about to be working twenty-eight hours a day nine days a week. The finish line is in sight, Mrs. Hughes, believe you me!
Ivy's load may be even lighter, as it turns out, because Edith is thinking of going to London to sort some Gregson-related things out and asks Branson to go with her. He begs off, saying he's got things to do, and after she cautions him not even to think about getting out of the ball, he asks why Grantham House wasn't sold when Downton was in trouble. Edith replies that it would have gone on the block eventually, but the money wouldn't have been enough to save the estate. Seriously, how much was Lavinia's father worth again? Girl really should have just paid the Spanish flu to go away. Edith then talks about how she misses Matthew, and it's true he was always more in her corner than most. She could use some people in there!
In the kitchen, Thomas asks Daisy if she's looking forward to the trip, but she doesn't know why doing kitchen prep in London is going to be any more of a thrill than doing same in Yorkshire, which I suppose is valid enough. He then asks her to tell Baxter he's looking forward to hearing her stories once he arrives, which is just weird. I thought he was so proud of himself for arranging to have a secret spy in the house, and now he's dragging other people into lording it over her?
In her sitting room, the Dowager Countess tells Edith that she's going up to London in a few days, as Lord Grantham got her invited to the supper after the presentation. In answer to the Dowager Countess's question, Edith says she's going the day, as she needs some clothes "now I'm back to normal shape." After an awkward pause, the Dowager Countess offers that while she knows they never talk about the baby, it must be on Edith's mind constantly. Edith doesn't seem to take this in the spirit it seems to be intended as she asks if they can refer to the child as "she" instead of "it," but the Dowager Countess takes no offense as she wishes Edith hadn't been away so long. Edith tells her that the theory is that the biological mother staying to wean helps the baby, and then the Dowager Countess tries to lighten the mood and gets slapped down again. I hope you served Edith decaf, milady.
In London (a chyron lets us know we're at Grantham House in 1923), Lord Grantham calls down the stairs to Cora to ask if they have to go "to this," but Cora tells him of course -- "Lady Wimborne" is being kind enough to give a concert and a dinner, and they should be grateful. So should the servants! Mary wonders when "the American contingent" is arriving and more importantly how they're going to manage them, and reading into her comment, Cora tells her not to be ashamed of Martha. I didn't get the impression she was the last time Martha was over, but either way, Mary's not done buzzkilling as she asks where everyone will sleep. Cora suggests she share with Edith, after which she grabs a shawl to wrap up in against Mary's answering look. Lord Grantham then grumps that it's time to go, but before they do, Cora tells Carson that she'd like him to plan an outing for the staff to thank them for all the extra work they've taken on. Nice of her, but as we'll see, Carson isn't quite the ambassador of fun that Rose is. Speaking of which, Rose wants to go out to the Embassy Club with some friends after the dinner, and this leads to a predictable struggle with the even more predictable outcome that she gets her way, although Mary's stern interjection is funny: "Your niece is a flapper. Accept it." Hee.
At Crawley House, Lord Merton is shown in, and Isobel immediately wonders if she's forgotten an engagement, but no… he's merely early for an appointment in the area. After Isobel apologizes for her "humble soup" (it's your house, eat what you want), Lord Merton asks if she's going to Rose's ball, but even though she's invited, she says she doubts it. He tells her he would make up his mind to go if he knew he'd see her there, but she says a deb's ball is not her normal thing. "I'm much duller and more sérieuse than you seem to think." Well Isobel, you turned down a nice boring country doctor, so I'm not sure that holds water. He won't allow that she's dull but then turns around and leaves her "to the delights of [her] soup," and he can't get out of his own marginally condescending way, can he?
At the Embassy Club, Rose and a young friend of hers take the place in before the friend, who I mentioned in the recaplet is called "Madeleine Allsopp," spots her father at a table -- sitting with the Prince of Wales and a woman. Madeleine takes Rose over to be introduced, and after we learn from Lord Aysgarth (that's Madeleine's father) that the woman at the table is "Mrs. Dudley Ward," the Prince realizes that Rose's father must be Lord "Shrimpy" Flintshire, with whom he must have some affinity given that he asks Rose and Madeleine to sit with them. Ah, here it is… the Prince toured India the year before, and Shrimpy put him up in Bombay; Rose replies that her father told her all about it and that the Prince's visit was an honor. After Rose charms the Prince a bit more, Mrs. Ward (who looks a bit like a young Lara Flynn Boyle) conspiratorially leans in and thanks Rose for the "reinforcements," as she's produced an upswing in the Prince's mood. Rose looks thrilled, although probably not least because the Prince gushed about her father and didn't say Word One about her mother.
With Daisy in the front seat and Edith in the back, the car takes off, after which Thomas asks Branson if he's got any orders for Ivy. Branson replies that something simple for lunch would be nice and he'll go down to the pub for dinner, as he doesn't want to make any trouble. Well, where Thomas is concerned, wanting doesn't really enter into it.
Back at Grantham House, Cora comes down to find Blake waiting -- he's taking Mary to lunch and to see the Summer Exhibition. Cora replies that she thinks Rose is going as well, and then Mary descends decked out in summery chiffon. Cora asks her to be sure to return in time for Martha's arrival, while at the Abbey, Ivy asks Thomas if Branson wants anything else. Somehow Thomas has taken Branson's humble, as Isobel would put it, order and spun it into something hateful as he goes on about how he can't believe he has to wait on Branson hand at foot or whatever nonsense. I mean, years have passed here, Thomas, not to mention I thought you felt such an affinity for young Sybil. Does it make sense to declare war on her father? However boring she may be, Ivy's at least smart enough to disagree about Branson, not that it calms Thomas's psycho eyes any.
Back in London, in their car from the station, Mrs. Hughes notes to Daisy that Martha and Harold have arrived, and as I said in the recaplet Harold is played by Paul Giamatti, in a fur-collared coat here. Edith pops out and greets Martha while noting she's early, and Martha sniffs that Carson tells her there's no one in the house to receive her. Edith is like, well I guess I'll have to do before asking about the trip, but Martha replies that it was hard to be anything but awful with the actress who played Reed unavailable for this episode… I mean, "her maid quitting right before the journey." Martha at least brightens when she sees that Mrs. Hughes is going to be on hand, and she takes Carson's arm to be led inside as Edith goes over to introduce herself to Harold, who wastes little time in letting it be known he's not exactly a willing traveler here. Edith supposes that it's nice to try new things every once in a while, but Harold is not sure he agrees with her one hundred percent on her police work!
At the servants' entrance, Jimmy James greets an "Ethan Slade," a nerdy strawberry blond who says, in the American/French way, that he's the "va-LEY" to Harold. Jimmy James then runs down ahead, leaving Slade to ask Daisy questions about who she is and what she does, adding that they're in need of a lady's maid, "preferably with skin like a rhinoceros." Heh. At the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Hughes introduces herself before everyone kind of bails in a very English way, leaving Slade to look bummed that no one's going to take any more care of him. Find your own fun, dude; people have crap to do.
Downstairs, there's a little confab among the Downtoners, starting with Mrs. Hughes telling everyone that Martha's there without a maid. Anna wonders what happened to the last one, but Slade has that one covered: "She had her head bitten off one time too many." Heh. Mrs. Hughes turns to Baxter for help, and Baxter's fine with seeing to Martha but cautions that she and Cora will have to make allowances. Slade pipes up that that isn't exactly Martha's strong suit, but hopefully Cora will be able to settle her down. (Crazy, right?) Mrs. Patmore is thrilled that Daisy's arrived, with the dinner that night and the at-home (a late supper for the people still hanging out for music and chat, as Jimmy James explains), while Mrs. Hughes greets Molesley, who walks by just as Daisy relays Thomas's message to Baxter. Come on, Molesley -- punch him with one of your Popeye arms!
At the Gallery, Mary wonders what scheme Blake is working on "to beat down the upper classes," to which he counters that he's far less of a Robespierre than she thinks. After talk of toffs and pigs, Blake's face falls when he sees Lord Gillingham talking to Rose, but Mary's happy enough to step forward and greet him, and given that Blake and Lord Gillingham are old mates it's too bad it's socially unacceptable to turn this into a three-way relationship. I mean, how do you expect her to choose? Rose introduces Mrs. Ward, and after explanations are given of how she knows her, says she's asked her and Lord Aysgarth to come that night, and when Mary warningly asks if she's told Cora, Rose is like, I totally will, silly! God, she's the Cher Horowitz of party planning of her time. After Blake and Lord Gillingham snit at each other for a bit, we learn that Blake and Mrs. Ward know each other, and Mrs. Ward elicits an invitation for the both of them. Lord Gillingham asks if Cora won't mind, prompting Blake to ask if he's being a dog in a manger. Lord Gillingham, however, correctly and suavely points out that the expression refers to someone protecting something he has no use for, "whereas I'm looking forward to this evening, very much indeed." You may have your pig story, Blake, but he's got you there.
Putting some notices up on the… house bulletin board (?), Carson tells Mrs. Hughes that they've been struggling without "Mrs. Butte," the Mrs. Hughes of Grantham House, and then he brings up the outing Cora asked him to plan. Mrs. Hughes thinks it's a great idea -- until Carson starts talking science museums and the new site of the Crystal Palace and whatever. Mrs. Hughes diplomatically suggests he float the ideas past the staff while doing her utmost to suppress a "nnnnnnerd" face, not entirely successfully, I might add.
Upstairs, Cora bursts in on tea and apologetically/exasperatedly reminds Martha she said she wouldn't be there until five, but Martha's like, I'm ancient and also shit happens? After Cora and Harold share a greeting best described as "eh" (and Lord Grantham's disgusted eye-roll when Harold talks about being homesick already is a sight to behold), Martha announces that they're going on to Madrid, Rome and Paris and they will enjoy themselves. Her tone of command both makes it seem like resistance is futile and yet also makes you wonder how much enjoyment can be had by definition. Cora starts to say how it's probably just as well Harold's out of the country with the whole Teapot Dome thing, but Lord Grantham had enough of that when it was happening, and when Harold starts to argue his case again Martha at least is on Lord Grantham's side: "We came three and a half thousand miles so we could change the subject." Hee.
In Downton, Ms. Sarah Bunting drops some papers, whereupon Branson comes into view and asks if he can give her a hand. She accepts his help but accuses him of having been avoiding her, a charge he denies, saying he's been busy "these last few months." Ooh, does that mean Downton's gotten into dairy like Blake suggested? Come on, Branson, give us an agricultural update! Instead of that, though, he invites her to join him for dinner at the pub, but before she can answer, the Dowager Countess pulls up in her car and asks if Edith got off all right. Of course; that's what led to the whole Switzerland mess! Branson then introduces Ms. Bunting, whom the Dowager Countess regards like a vaguely interesting weed before telling Branson she wanted to say goodbye, as she may not see him before she departs for London. She then proudly tells Ms. Bunting that her niece is being presented on Tuesday at Buckingham Palace, and it's Ms. Bunting's turn to feign interest as Branson smirks to himself. The Dowager Countess then asks if he isn't coming to the ball afterward, and as her tone will brook no dissent it's probably best that he lets her drive off without arguing the point. Ms. Bunting then asks if his offer of dinner still stands, and I'm not sure what the hesitation was about in the first place but it's nice to know she hasn't taken leave of her senses.
Daisy's bustling around the kitchen being efficient and impressing Slade, who asks her if she's ever thought of striking out on her own. Daisy dismissively asks if he always tries to change people's lives after he's known them half an hour, and who knew she could be so salty without Ivy even around? Carson then asks "Mr. Levinson" if he wouldn't mind helping out in a footman capacity on the big nights when it's needed, and he says he will, but adds with a silly smile that Harold is Mr. Levinson, not him. Carson: "In this house, you both are." Simple enough -- not that you could tell from the look on Slade's face.
In the pub, Branson and Ms. Bunting discuss the Dowager Countess a bit before Ms. Bunting asks if Branson will show her the house, and Branson's fearful "What?" comes in a voice I haven't heard since Edna left. Seeing that, she asks if he's not allowed to bring his friends back, and when he says it's not a question of that, she asks what, then, it is a question of. He has no ready answer, but I hope he's prepared for the enormity of the task of giving a tour of that house.
At the post-dinner drinks thing, Lord Grantham wistfully says he wishes Branson had arrived, but when Cora says it's nice to hear, he ba-dum-bums that he's bringing Isis. Boooo, Lord Grantham. Elsewhere, Rose introduces Martha and Harold to Lord Aysgarth and Madeleine, and Lord Aysgarth takes about 1.2 seconds to go flitting off to talk to some gentleman friends, to Martha's mild annoyance. Rosamund then enters -- with Sampson, the card cheater, which is now to Lord Grantham's chagrin. Understandable, especially since he doesn't have Gregson to protect him! Apparently Rosamund ran into Sampson at someplace or other, and when she heard he once stayed at Downton, she insisted he come (he rather sheepishly explains that "she wouldn't take no for an answer," which is hilarious). Cora (probably) has no idea there's anything untoward, so she asks him if he knows Lord Aysgarth, and he does in fact. Elsewhere, coming in from dinner (or at least another room), Mary asks if Lord Gillingham really kept it a secret from Blake that he was coming that night, but Lord Gillingham says no! "I just didn't tell him." Heh. In other news, Lord Gillingham isn't giving up on Mary, which is good because if you break off an engagement to court someone else, you might as well get your money's worth.
Across the room, Lord Aysgarth slyly tells Sampson he's in for a dry night, but Sampson thinks that might be a blessing given the shellacking he took last time at Gregson's hands. Madeleine then joins them as Aysgarth points out Martha and Harold, and Sampson smiles that it'd be great if they played cards, since they're the reason "the Downton roof still keeps out the rain." Not the only reason, but he probably doesn't know that; in any case, this prompts Lord Aysgarth to ask Madeleine if she heard that in a very "you know what to do" way, and even with this little information: BARF.
By the stairs, Slade is peddling hors d'oeuvres like he's trying to move merchandise on the Atlantic City boardwalk, and Carson horrifiedly scolds him to "keep your opinions on the catering to yourself!" Harold may be the one griping, but Slade really does seem like he could already use a break from England. Downstairs, Anna and Mrs. Hughes discuss the food situation briefly before Mrs. Hughes tells her the Scottish church in Bond Street is doing a clothing drive for Russian refugees, and while Anna probably didn't bring any cast-offs she'd appreciate it if she'd spread the word. Anna remarks that she'd like Bates to pick up some new clothes in London but he's reluctant to do so, and then Mrs. Hughes is like, men and shopping, am I right?
Upstairs, Madeleine is showing that she indeed "heard that," as she's now asking Harold if he knows London well. He's like, sure don't, "but I'm prepared for cold baths, warm drinks and most of all the food." Martha, hilariously grimly, reiterates that he doesn't travel much before Cora suggests Harold take Madeleine into supper. After she leads her mother away, Harold tells Madeleine she doesn't have to be his supper date if she'd prefer not to, but she brightly asks if he's determined to put her off, so he allows a small smile to reach his lips as he offers her his arm. Inside, Rose and Mrs. Ward are making plans to go to the Embassy again; catching the tail end, Sampson invites himself along, and his presence of course is concerning not only to Lord Grantham, but also to Lord Gillingham, who asks Mary and Edith why he's there. Mary tells him that Rosamund brought him, and while Lord Grantham is livid, they can't make a scene. Edith, however, pipes up that she sometimes feels they should make more scenes when it's important, and she'll get no argument from me. Lord Gillingham, however, smiles big as he points out it wouldn't be very English, but she says she sometimes envies "all those Latins screaming and shouting and hurling themselves into graves. I bet they feel much better afterwards." Hee. Mary supposes that once you've let it out, it's hard to get it back in. I'd love to know Michelle Dockery's comment about that line once the cameras stopped rolling.
Back at the Abbey, Branson leads Ms. Bunting and Isis through the sitting room, and looking at all its finery, she tells him she bets he says he hasn't changed, although she at least accompanies the mild insult with that ingratiating smile she's so good at. Branson is then like, this concludes our tour, but Ms. Bunting wants to check out the view from the gallery, which is a no-no because of people's BEDS and such. Branson smells disaster, but her mind's made up, and from up top everything seems fine and fun as they check out the arms on the walls signifying weddings and Countesses and whatever -- but then of course Thomas appears in an archway and asks if he can help in a voice you could use to fuel an oil lamp. Branson obviously gets all stuttery about the whole thing -- to Thomas's enjoyment -- and Thomas, if you don't actually want to turn into Lord Voldemort before our eyes I suggest you get a little sun. Despite this being the Christmas special, it's summer! Branson goes to take Ms. Bunting home, but when Thomas peers over the railing he sees Branson staring up fearfully at him. Come on, Branson, commit to the idea that you didn't do anything wrong! This isn't an Edna situation!
Downstairs, Slade can't shut up about how Harold couldn't shut up about how great Daisy's cooking was (the kedgeree, to be specific), but Daisy still looks at Slade like she might want to use him in one of her recipes. Meanwhile, at the Embassy, Rose is giggling as the three women return to the table, and when asked what's so funny, she blabs that "Freda" (that's Mrs. Ward) was showing them a letter that's special because of who wrote it. Madeleine laughs that Rose must be "tiddly" to be revealing such, and she admits that she might be before Lord Aysgarth sends Harold and Madeleine off to dance. Once they're on the floor, Madeleine apologizes for her father throwing them together like that, but he sighs that he's used to fathers flinging their daughters at him, although he doesn't say it quite so crassly. There will be time for that, though. Back at the table, Sampson and Rose are the only two left, and he asks her to dance, but she spots a friend of hers and tiddles her way over, throwing a request over her shoulder to look after their bags. He's like, bags, eh? Letter, eh? And with that, he's looking in Freda's purse. Potential national scandal, eh?
As Branson eats by his lonesome, Thomas stands nearby like a gargoyle until Branson can't take it any more and expresses his concern that Thomas may have misconstrued what happened the evening before, and he wouldn't want him to think there was anything improper. Thomas: "However you wish to command me, I am your servant, Mr. Branson. But I was not aware I was under orders as to what I might think." Good meeting!
Lord Merton has returned to Crawley House, and he admits he thought he might have found her gone to London already. Isobel replies that she's heading out with the Dowager Countess that very morning, and Lord Merton replies that she was kind to write, to which Isobel tells him she thought it was only fair given his request. He asks what changed her mind, so she tells him that "these balls and presentations and comings-out" aren't just "aristocratic falderal" (as she no doubt once thought) but "traditions by which this family measure their progress through life." As such, she now sees that she was being smug and intolerant by her dismissiveness, and when Lord Merton admiringly asks if they know what they have in her, she replies that she knows what she has in them. She then asks if he'll come to the ball, and he tells her of course! All right, Isobel -- a toff date for a toff event!
At Rosamund's, Edith is explaining to her aunt about Gregson having given her power of attorney, with the result that she's going to have to make some decisions at the newspaper until something definite is known about his fate. Rosamund tentatively asks if he left a will, as it might be helpful to Edith to know his wishes. Edith thinks there must be, RIGHT MATTHEW, but she doesn't know what's in it -- and then there's the matter of his child. "Doesn't she have some rights?" Rosamund is like, sure doesn't! She lives in Geneva with Mr. and Mrs. Schroder, and that's the end of it. Edith, her voice on the verge of breaking, points out that there was no formal agreement, but Rosamund thinks it wouldn't be fair to them for Edith to go back on her word now. Edith replies that she's so grateful to Rosamund for everything she's done, but -- and she shouldn't take this the wrong way -- she's never been a mother, to which Rosamund gives her an "and a good thing too" look.
Daisy brightly tells Mrs. Patmore and then Slade that Alfred (who?) has written to tell her he's passed his course and the Ritz is taking him on as an under-chef. Slade then looks after her thoughtfully, and I will tell you this for free, buddy: NO CHANCE.
Isobel hops in with the Dowager Countess, who seems shirty once again about Lord Merton being on hand, although her mood isn't helped by the fact that Cora ordered her to come without a maid (not sure if it's a space consideration or to balance things out with Martha), and how will she negotiate things like luggage and trains and whatever other horrors lie between her and the comforts of Grantham House? Isobel dryly says she'll share her knowledge "of the jungle," to which the Dowager Countess asks if she can't offer help without sounding "like a trumpeter on the peak of the moral high ground." Isobel shoots back that the Dowager Countess always sounds like Marie Antoinette's sister, and ladies, if you're worried about this trip being a disaster I submit that all this bickering before you even strike out for the station isn't going to help.
Anna comes in with a smile and announces that she's persuaded Bates to buy a new overcoat, which explains the old one she hands over to Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. Hughes is delighted -- until, after Anna's gone, she absently checks the pockets and fishes out what looks like a train ticket. She starts to go after Anna, but when she realizes what it is, she pauses. Baxter then appears and wonders what's up, and although Mrs. Hughes tells her nothing, she pretty clearly suspects something's amiss even though there's little way she could know exactly what.
Meanwhile, a processional of cars is approaching Buckingham Palace, and Rose -- in with Cora -- looks delighted, as well she might; it's quite the spectacle. In another car, we see Lord Grantham in his red formal court uniform, and then everyone's entering and gazing around in wonder. Where the stairs split off in two directions, so do the sexes, and then upstairs, Cora gives her formal title and adds that she's presenting "the Lady Rose MacClare." It didn't occur to me, but although India's a long way, would Shrimpy really not have come to this? He could have left his wife at home; that probably would have been everyone's vote including hers. Rose looks a bit nervous for once, and then Madeleine excitedly tells her she hopes she won't need to powder her nose, "because all that's on offer is a chamberpot behind that screen." With all due respect, nobles: Ew. Rose tells Madeleine that the Dowager Countess wanted to present her "but we got round it," and after some babbling about who pulled what strings to get who in, Madeleine goes to be presented. The sooner it's done, the sooner you can visit a real bathroom!
Mrs. Hughes is like so "she" is on her own in the library, and when Carson asks why she's so interested, Mrs. Hughes tells him it wouldn't concern him. It's an old chestnut, Mrs. Hughes, but I doubt Carson will have any defense if you bring up women's troubles. Slade pops in, so Mrs. Hughes makes herself scarce, after which Slade asks Carson "man to man" (the width to which Carson's eyes go defies both biology and physics) if there's anything going on between Daisy and Alfred, and just for asking the question he should be made to watch all their boring scenes from this season. After Carson lectures Slade that no shenanigans go on in any house he administrates (he should really never let Mrs. Hughes hire a maid whose name begins with "E"), he only slightly less haughtily tells Slade that nothing, thank God, is going on between Alfred and Daisy, and the rest of the scene is him making even crazier eyes at Slade, which of course means that you should watch it.
The presenting is happening, and while it seems most of the girls don't get any attention beyond their curtsies, when Rose (who really does look lovely) gets up there, the Prince whispers to his father that she's Shrimpy's daughter, and the buzz of conversation in the room ceases immediately once the King starts to say that his son has spoken of Rose's father's hospitality. Rose replies with equanimity that he was honored to extend it, adding that the Prince was ever so popular wherever he went. The King half-sniffs that the Prince is "never short of popularity," which gets a side-eye from the Prince and HA, but this still looks like it couldn't have gone better for Rose. And now she can go to the Embassy Club without permission!
Ah, it was Mary about whom Mrs. Hughes was inquiring; she's got the ticket in her hand as she observes that Bates was in London on the day of Green's death. By the way, I'll say right now that it's absolutely preposterous Bates premeditated this murder and still has the incriminating ticket; it's true he might have needed it to get off the train, but all the more reason he'd be aware enough to dispose of it afterward. The show did as well as it could on this point, I think, but it's still not enough. Mrs. Hughes realizes that Mary already suspected it anyway, and she asks if Anna is of like mind, but Mary tells her she knows nothing. That's… not true, and Mary knows it; I wonder if she's just misremembering or if she thinks she's protecting Anna here. Mrs. Hughes asks if Mary's going to tell Anna now, and Mary correctly supposes from the question that Mrs. Hughes has no plans to do so herself. Mrs. Hughes points out that they still don't know if Bates actually did the deed, but even if he did, she adds with her eyes blazing, "if he was there to avenge his wife's honor, I won't condemn him for it." It's weird when an English period drama employs frontier justice, but I agree!
The Dowager Countess and Lord Grantham are delighted when Rose and Cora appear, and Harold then joins them as Lord Grantham notes how chatty the King was. Harold wonders if he might meet him, but the Dowager Countess is like, he double-hates Americans, so no; Lord Grantham points him at the Prince, who's another story. We then check in with another Americophile (at least when they're rich), Lord Aysgarth, who's telling Martha that he doesn't hate New York, "but a great city can be a lonely place." Martha clearly isn't buying what he's selling, but when he brings up Newport, she has to admit that she's there rather a lot. He smiles that he didn't know, and she's like, "Didn't you? Huh." Hee.
Lord Grantham expresses regret that Isobel can't be there, but the Dowager Countess sniffs that she's got a book, and "on the train it was far more interesting than me." Elsewhere, Harold notices all the attention Lord Aysgarth is paying to his mother and tells Madeleine he shouldn't bother -- all the principal from his father's estate will revert to him when Martha dies. I guess his yacht collection has only just begun. Wounded by his cavalier dismissal of both her and her father, Madeleine rushes off, and Harold looks chastened, while even more agitated is Freda, who tells Rose the letter they were having such fun with went missing from her purse -- it wasn't there when she got home that evening even though she knows she replaced it. Rose recalls witnessing that, and Freda gets panicked as her hope that Rose took the letter as a prank is dashed, as it's highly incriminating. Rose asks if anyone's been in touch asking for money, but Freda says she only wishes, as she'd gladly pay to get it back. Martha then joins them, and when Rose introduces Freda, Martha recognizes her -- she read about her in American newspapers. "Gossip really, nothing to worry about, but never give them a real story!" Freda looks like she might vomit, and Martha, your timing's impeccable but it's not the kind people are going to love you for. Harold, for his part, sees an opening with the Prince and approaches with an outstretched hand: "How do you do, sir. Harold Levinson." The Prince: "You're mistaken, sir. I'm not Harold Levinson." Ha! Harold tries to explain that he was referring to himself, but the Prince only gets more snappish: "Then why did you say I was?" Not exactly Who's On First, but the British snobbery sells it, and Harold actually laughs about how preposterous that was, which is nice.
At Grantham House, Rose (wearing normal clothes, but I don't know if it's the same day) gathers her courage and asks Lord Grantham if he thinks Sampson is capable of doing something dishonorable. Lord Grantham is like, totes and why, so Rose starts to tell him the story, but since we already know it, we cut to downstairs where we're learning that to make up for his boorish behavior, Harold has invited Madeleine for a picnic lunch in the park, and a bunch of other people are tagging along to make the whole thing respectable. Slade asks if Daisy will prepare it and also attend while he serves, and Mrs. Patmore is like, oh great, another one smitten before saying that she can spare Daisy if Slade thinks people will come, and after Slade gleefully tells her that Madeleine's dad will attend if "Old Mother Levinson" is there, Mrs. Patmore decries his lack of respect. Well, he's probably not saying anything he hasn't heard from his master.
Having now heard the story, Lord Grantham disgustedly says he hopes the Prince isn't following in his grandfather's footsteps, "winking at every beauty in an opera box." Rose is more sympathetic, but after Lord Grantham in no uncertain terms tells her that Sampson intends to profit off the letter, Rose frets about it and says she can't reveal to Lord Grantham what it said. Lord Grantham: "Don't. I'm a Monarchist, and that's why I would like the letter retrieved." Fine, Lord Grantham, but in 1936 you'll probably wish you let this scandal run its course. Rose laments her blabbermouth letting Sampson in on the existence of the letter, and because of that Lord Grantham feels a responsibility to do something at once. Rose can't believe he's suggesting they burgle Sampson's flat, but from the fact that Lord Grantham has Jimmy James summon Bates to the drawing room, he's pretty set on something criminal.
At the Abbey, the last of the group is heading for the station, but crafty Thomas uses the excuse that Ivy has a big basket of things to try to worm his way into the back seat with Branson. However terrified Branson may be of people learning about the Sarah Bunting mishap, he still has had enough of Thomas's smugness and insinuations and looks about ready to deck him right there until Ivy suggests they tie the basket on the back and Branson's like GOOD IDEA. Again, never been a huge fan of Ivy, but I'm sorry for her about the upcoming train ride.
The kitchen staff is tying up a picnic basket that's so big it might be on loan from the Royal Army as Slade unwittingly kind of backdoors an insult about English cuisine; then, when everyone realizes how out of hand the picnic has gotten, Mrs. Hughes suggests they take Jimmy James. Slade asks if he'd mind, but Jimmy James snits, "I'm a footman. I don't have the right to mind." Jeez, everyone is in SUCH a bad mood with vacation just around the corner! Carson thanks "Wat Tyler" (heeee) for his attitude, whereupon Slade asks if he'll recognize the picnic destination, the Albert Memorial, when he sees it and Mrs. Hughes practically guffaws that he certainly will. When the grunts start lugging everything out, Carson thanks Mrs. Patmore for sparing Daisy but supposes Slade's interest in her isn't "entirely proper," to which Mrs. Patmore's like, we women need some improper attention every now and then. Mrs. Patmore, do tell!
Upstairs, Lord Grantham is basically like, forgive the indelicacy, but when you were in the clink did you happen to meet any forgers? You see, they'll need something in Sampson's hand asking the porter to unlock the door to his flat, and they happen to have a note in Sampson's handwriting thanking them for the party the other night. Bates is like, then I… er, "my friend" can totally do it and fast! Lord Grantham supposes the whole thing sounds "rather dodgy" to him but assures him their cause is honorable, and Bates replies that Lord Grantham's word is enough for him. Duh.
Rosamund begs Edith not to disarrange their plans at this late date, but Edith tells her that even though she said she wouldn't have mentioned anything to Gregson, she doesn't think she could go through with that now. From this Rosamund divines that there's been some news, and she's right; Gregson got into an altercation with "a gang of toughs," and as I linked to in the recaplet, she's talking about the brownshirts, which doesn't sound like great news, to say the least. Apparently Gregson took exception to the proto-Nazi philosophies they were spewing, but when Rosamund wonders if they can't question the men and find out what happened, Edith can only reply that you'd think so before the tears start flowing again. When she recovers herself, though, she tells Rosamund that if Gregson is dead, she needs to give at least half his estate to the baby, to which Rosamund replies that if she has to, she should keep it on the DL. She softens, though, as she kneels in front of Edith and clasps her hands before assuring her that this will all be for the best. "There'll be other loves, other children. Don't cheat yourself of that." Edith is distraught and at her wit's end as she says she doesn't know, but Rosamund replies, "Then trust me, because I do." Rosamund, are you saying you've been in Edith's position? It would explain a couple of things.
Mrs. Hughes comes upon Bates downstairs and asks what he's up to, and he's like oh, you know, forgin'! She then asks how he's enjoying LONDON and isn't it nice to be in LONDON and oh you haven't been in LONDON for ages, isn't that interesting, and Bates totally catches on but I guess he thinks killing her right there might be hard to cover up.
Mary and Cora have been briefed, and Mary's like sure, I have no objections to the crime in theory, but why is the operation suddenly resting on my shoulders? Lord Grantham explains that he's going to distract Sampson with a card game while someone fetches the letter, and Rose is too… well, he seems to think she's too young, but that's probably not the only adjective to describe why he doesn't trust her to do this alone. Another issue is that they need at least one other genuine card player or Sampson will smell a rat, so Cora suggests Lord Gillingham, although he'd have to be let in on the plan to agree. Rose, however, has a better idea: Lord Aysgarth, who would naturally bring Sampson, so they wouldn't have to tell him anything. The issue becomes what to do with the old women during the game, so Lord Grantham suggests they get Rosamund to invite them all to a play. Cora says she hates to lie, so Mary practically jumps at the chance to do it for her; more social machinations then ensue before Cora insists that the two of them (Rose, by the way, has to go because she's seen the letter before) take a man along for protection, and they settle on Blake as a viable candidate. Mary still has reservations, so Lord Grantham's Indigno-Meter goes to eleven as he asks if she wants the Prince to be lampooned in every publication in the Western world, and when Mary points out that he brought it on himself a bit, Lord Grantham bellows that they introduced Sampson to Freda, and Rose practically put the letter in his hand! "The fact is this family is responsible for the whole ghastly debacle!" With that, he storms out, which after a speech like that is kind of obligatory.
At the picnic, Harold compliments the food while vaguely insulting England again, while his mother asks Lord Aysgarth what degree of peerage he possesses, or as she puts it, "what kinda lord are ya?" He replies that he's just a lowly Baron -- hey! -- and Martha realizes that means his daughter doesn't carry the title of "Lady," although Lord Aysgarth is quick to add that she's an "Honorable." When he then hears of Martha's Europe itinerary, he basically is like, how awesome to tour Europe while throwing that much money around, although when the Dowager Countess calls him on it, he backtracks that he only meant that seeing Europe with Martha would be "so charming." Like, what are you basing that on, Lord Aysgarth? Jimmy James reports to Daisy that the food is a hit but "the old lady treats his Lordship like a bad smell," and then Madeleine asks Harold about his playboy reputation she's heard about from Rose. He tells her honestly that he attracts pretty girls who don't expect anything from him beyond a good time "and a diamond bracelet as a thank-you note." They sound practical to me!
Madeleine asks if he likes that arrangement too, but he somewhat cynically replies that no one gets disappointed, and he hates to disappoint people. She asks if that's why he never married, and when he playfully points out that question is at odds with the supposed image of noble ladies as "reticent and refined," Madeleine laughs: "That was before the war." Heh. He admits that he'd find it difficult to respect any woman who'd want to marry him, and when she suggests that many women would want the privilege, he asks if that's because he's rich. This time, however, Madeleine doesn't go to pieces: "You are strange. You invite me here today as an apology and yet now you seem bent on offending me again." He, however, says that nothing could be further from the truth – he likes her very much, "more than any… lady I have ever known, if I may use the term." Well, only because you're American. He goes on that she shouldn't participate in her father's scheme because she's better than he is, and it's sometimes dodgy to prop someone up by cutting down one of her loved ones, but in this case it works, as she smiles and asks if he'll warn his mother off him, and his answer sounds a lot like (a) she wouldn't listen if I tried and (b) your father has not a ghost of a chance anyway.
Mary and Rose are downstairs, the latter apparently finally having asked if Mrs. Patmore can handle a few more people for the supper, and Mrs. Patmore tells her it's fine, but she hopes Mrs. Hughes can figure out who's sleeping where. After some analogies of how they're packed in (sardines and maggots are used as comparisons), Rose asks where Bates is, and after she's told the servants' hall, we cut to Rose wondering if there's any news on the note. Bates produces the finished product, and Rose is impressed at the craftsmanship before running off to tell Lord Grantham they're all set, leaving Mary to take up the LONDON calling, and Bates once again looks like he's an attack dog and "London" is his kill word before Mrs. Hughes senses danger and pops up in the hallway to ask if she can help. After some loud discussion about Mrs. Patmore and all she can handle, Mary steps into Mrs. Hughes' office and whispers that she's not sure she can leave the ticket business alone, but Mrs. Hughes counters by asking if Bates must be ruined or even hanged "because a vile, vicious monster is no longer with us?" I'm with her, but Mary still thinks the whole business is wrong, and she looks no less tortured when we cut to her sitting upstairs as the Dowager Countess is proving everyone's earlier fears right by making an endless fuss about the card game, and on top of that, she's not interested in the theater: "I'm too tired for an evening of secondhand emotion." Hee.
Branson, ever a good soldier, says he'll join the card game, but the Dowager Countess won't let up about how odd the whole evening seems, and the more the people in the know try to explain the more it seems she's right, so it's a good thing that Martha and Harold enter and Martha notes that "the gang's all here." The Dowager Countess: "Is that American for 'hello'?" Heh. After an introduction between Harold and Branson and some more Americanisms that baffle the Dowager Countess further, some rat-a-tat snittery ends with Martha saying she should get changed for the theater and the Dowager Countess sniffing "Yes. I should." Shirley MacLaine displays that pushing eighty hasn't compromised her ability to shoot death beams out of her eyes, but she holds her tongue as she leaves the room.
Downstairs, people are still talking about "Alfred" as a thing that exists as Ivy dreamily says he's escaped to a glamorous life or whatever, and Daisy and Mrs. Patmore look at each other like "what is she even on about now." Later on, the men are heading into the mysterious card game when Thomas catches Lord Grantham and tattles on Branson under the guise of worrying about "the family's honor" and whatever bullshit that's especially rich coming from him, and he can't contain that smug smile even a bit as he tells his story, like does he think Branson's going to be thrown out of the family for this? I've mostly enjoyed Thomas over the years, but I'm coming to see that without O'Brien to parry with him he's got no real place on the show. Regardless, though, Lord Grantham seems to take the news seriously, which I suppose is decent of him given that it seemed like he almost threw Thomas overboard on his way back from New York.
Downstairs, Carson finally gets around to telling the troops about the excursion, and everyone's jazzed until they hear Carson's ideas -- in addition to the ones he relayed to Mrs. Hughes earlier, he's added the Royal Institution, the Natural History Museum and Westminster Abbey, the mention of all of which prove to be opportunities for people to clink their teacups awkwardly -- but he doesn't seem to notice as he says he's sure they'll think of something. Anna then catches Mrs. Hughes not to ask if Carson's ever heard of fun (because everyone knows the answer is no), but to inquire whether Mrs. Hughes already got rid of the coat, as Bates is cross with her for having taken it without saying -- he didn't even get to check the pockets! So he had an idea the thing was there? Again, preposterous, and also Anna -- who's among the most capable maids around -- wouldn't have thought to check herself on behalf of her own husband?
Baxter is once again looking and listening intently as Anna asks if there was anything in the pockets, and Mrs. Hughes is like, nothing that matters now, like if you're going to be oblique why don't you just say "LONDON" fifty more times? Baxter is staring so intently that Mrs. Hughes even notices and asks if she can help, and Baxter's like what? London? Nothing! Thomas then sits down with Baxter and is like, your report better be on my desk first thing in the morning, but Molesley comes to her rescue, after which Slade tells Daisy that Harold wants her to come to America to be his cook. Well Slade, at least now you've known her for like three days instead of half an hour! As Ivy looks dejected, Slade excitedly goes on that they'll be in Europe for another month, so Daisy will have plenty of time to decide, and if she's up for it they'll send her the fare to go to New York! And Daisy can't believe it, because she figured she was just going to get clumsily hit on! (Plenty of time for that.)
At the card table, the subject of Gregson comes up, and Sampson has the nerve to imply that he wasn't playing straight at Downton, but doesn't push the matter further "since the poor chap's missing." Lord Aysgarth then tells Harold he's disappointed that Martha's not there, and Harold shows that he can smell something bad just as well as his mother as he's like yeah, I'm aware. Lord Grantham, for his part, tells Branson he hears he's been "entertaining," and when Branson admits that he had Sarah Bunting over to see the house, Lord Grantham looks discomfited, although Lord Gillingham joking about how Sampson might "have his way with us" probably doesn't help.
Ah, we get a close-up of the note from "Sampson" in a porter's hand, and trailing along behind him are Mary, Rose and Blake. The pretext is that Sampson took ill at dinner and needs a few things, and Rose and Mary play their parts admirably. Inside, they observe how plain and grim his flat is, suggesting that grifting either isn't as profitable as they thought or he's just not that good at it. Well, I think Gregson deprived him of a nicer abode. The three of them then fan out to search, while back at the house, Thomas is on Baxter's jock YET AGAIN about giving him information that he thinks is going to make him Lord of the Downton Manor or whatever; he then whispers that Molesley can't protect her because he doesn't know what Thomas does, but Baxter's as sick of Thomas's shit as I am and tells him Molesley knows how to be kind. "He has the advantage of you there." I hope whatever secret she's keeping isn't going to be enough to run her out of Downton, because I really do quite like her.
Upstairs, after Sampson wins a round, Mary enters and gives her father a defeated shake of her head, whereupon everyone's like oh, look at the time! Hee. As everyone files out, Lord Gillingham hangs back to speculate that the mission failed, and Mary's expression confirms it. Lord Gillingham sighs that now the press will go to town, and Mary gives us some historical foreshadowing when she guesses that his lack of judgment would have tripped him up eventually anyway. Blake then pops up, so Lord Gillingham makes himself scarce as Mary tells Blake she's very grateful, and he replies that even though they failed, he's happy that she called on him in her moment of need. He then earnestly asks her for a chance, and she asks if he's sure, as his stock seems to be rising, unlike hers. He tells her, however, that he believes in the future, "and so could you." He then takes off but tells her he'll see her at the ball, and she looks pleased to think so.
Downstairs, Carson gives Bates a message from Rose – the note worked, but they couldn't find what they sought. Bates is like, THANKS for blowing up my spot, silly Rose, especially since Anna asks what that's about, but when Carson says he'll need a hand with the coats, Bates volunteers to help. I thought at first he was just escaping awkward questions about the Rose message, but now I know that was just an ancillary benefit. Mrs. Hughes catches Carson and asks if he's had any further thoughts about the outing, and he suggests Madame Tussauds. Okay, maybe this still isn't the best, but it's a huge improvement, so I'm not sure Mrs. Hughes has to act like the suggestion has leprosy. Just say what's on your mind!
Upstairs, Lord Grantham kindly asks Edith what's going on with her, as he never knows these days, but she emotionally asks if he knows she'd never do anything to hurt him. At first he's like, oh jolly good what a fun thing to say, but when he sees she means it he looks puzzled; however, she declines to explain further and goes to bed. Elsewhere, the Dowager Countess asks if they were "kept in the dark for nothing," so I guess Cora told her the truth, which makes it awkward when Sampson joins them. He, however, only lets fly a few light words about the courtship no one wants, least of all Martha, before handsomely thanking Cora for the evening (and she does a fine acting job of not seeming repulsed) before heading out himself. Harold tells Madeleine it was nice of her to come and that he hopes to see her at the ball, and she of course says she will be there.
Out in the hall, servants are retrieving coats, and Bates makes a point of helping Sampson into his in what looks like the valet version of three-card monte. After Lord Grantham says goodnight to the Dowager Countess, Bates gets his attention and forks over the letter as he says it occurred to him that if he were in possession of a very sensitive document, he'd keep it on his person. Nice try, Bates, but I'm still not buying the ticket thing. Lord Grantham's eyes bug out when he realizes it was in Sampson's coat the whole time, and Bates clarifies that it was in the inside breast pocket. Thrilled, Lord Grantham returns to the drawing room, in which it's only Mary and Rose left, and shows them the letter, getting a gasp from Mary and a delighted dance from Rose. He explains that Sampson dropped it and Bates picked it up, and even Rose is like riiiiight, while back at his flat, Sampson arrives home, notes a bit of disarray on his desk, and immediately thinks to check for the letter… to find it gone. You'd think a card player would keep better track of his ace in the hole.
Upstairs, Mary tells Anna that given the Prince's character, she wonders if they won't see another crisis before he's finished, and Mary? You're over-closing. We got it. Mary then asks Anna to please thank Bates for all he did, and Anna happily tells him he's surely just glad to have been of service, given his fierce loyalty to the family. Mary returns the sentiment, and when Anna's gone, she puts her money where her mouth is by taking the ticket and dropping it into the fire. He may be a murderer, but he's our murderer!
The day, the ball preparations are proceeding apace, while downstairs, Mrs. Hughes sticks a photo of the beach on the communal corkboard, adjusting the height so it'll be at eye level with someone taller than she and I WONDER WHO. Cut to the ball, where we see Harold is kind of cutely excited to see Madeleine before Cora tells her husband it's time to start the dance, and he should begin with Rose -- but that plan falls by the wayside when the Prince comes striding in with Freda in tow. He apologizes to Cora for his lack of an invitation, but she's of course honored by his presence, so he asks permission to open the ball -- with Rose. Cora beams her assent, and when the music starts and Rose and the Prince dance, Lord Grantham notes to Cora that if Rose isn't a darling of London after this, it won't be the Prince's fault. Well, honestly. She should make the cover of whatever passed for the society rag of the time.
Cora and Lord Grantham are the couple to take the floor, followed by Mary and Lord Gillingham, while across the room, the Dowager Countess asks Branson if he's glad he came. When he merely laughs, she reminds him that these are his people and his family now, and they argue the point a bit but the upshot is that they end up dancing, which is all I could have wanted here. She even jokes, "I know I can trust you to steer!" Whoever thought one day they'd laugh about his working-class beginnings! Blake asks Freda how she managed to get the Prince to do this, so she coolly replies that she told him in his whole life he'd never be as indebted to anyone as he is to Rose. I mean, objection, kind of, but Freda was working a narrative there, so fine. Blake asks if she told him why, and she says obviously not, "but he trusts me. He's a faithful little chap." Blake sighs that "annoyingly," so is he before staring daggers Lord Gillingham's way, and seriously, they're both too busy to be full-time husbands, so why not split the privilege? I'm not joking!
In the quiet of a couple seats, Martha is using sock puppets and semaphore flags to tell Lord Aysgarth how very not interested she is in a British title by marriage: "I'm modern. I don't hanker for those days before the war. And I don't really want to spend the rest of my life among people who think me loud, and opinionated and common." He starts to protest, but she adds that they'd be right, "because I think they are narrow, and pompous, and boring." Lord Aysgarth, finally reciprocating on that bad-smell look, asks why then she encouraged him, and she tells him it was to add flavor to the trip. Perhaps to make up for it, she invites him to come to Newport and promises she'll rustle up some rich widows who care more about British peerage than she, and I'm not saying I'd want to watch it but there's something vaguely appealing about her playing matchmaker in this way.
Harold is telling Madeleine that maybe he likes London a fair bit better than he expected, and Madeleine asks him not to judge them too harshly, as her father is frightened, being that he has no idea how to live without money. (Whether he has/had an estate or not, he's certainly an example of the helpless and useless toffs Blake has always railed against.) Harold says he's only sorry he couldn't help, but she tells him he has, at least as far as making her see she shouldn't participate in her father's game goes. In return, she sits him down and informs him that he's not fit merely for "good-time girls who see a profit in your friendship" -- he's kind, clever and "much too modest," and any woman would be lucky to have him. She wryly adds that she's speaking without guile "because I know you've escaped my net," and he sincerely thanks her. Not that it's a surprise, but this is excellent work from Paul Giamatti; the character is fully realized despite the one-off appearance. She asks when he's leaving, and he tells her they get the boat train Friday (it's Tuesday night, you'll remember). After mentioning that it looks like he's going to hire an English cook, he observes her looking sadly out at the couples on the dance floor and asks if she'll write, and she tells him she'll be delighted. Good subplot, and I'm kind of sad we probably won't get to keep up with either of them.
Lord Gillingham and Mary step off the dance floor and exit the room, causing Blake to suck in his cheeks so hard I'm worried they'll pass the point of no return, while downstairs Baxter and Molesley exchange some excited words about seeing the Prince in person before Molesley takes her hand in a serious manner and says he doesn't know what Thomas has on her, but she can't let him intimidate her into doing things she knows are wrong. She's like, easy for you to say, but he points out that being Thomas's pawn isn't likely to be a cakewalk either, so maybe she should take a risk and be able to live with herself? Baxter looks stricken, but Mrs. Patmore sarcastically asking if Molesley might take the heavy tray in her hands defers further discussion of the matter.
Alone in the drawing room, Lord Gillingham notes that the other evening must have gone well after all before wondering if his prospects are anywhere near as positive. Mary tells him she feels cruel stringing all her suitors along -- and she mentions Napier in this breath and Lord Gillingham shows what a mensch he is by keeping a straight face -- and he asks what she thinks of Blake at this point. She sighs that her destiny is to save Downton for her son, and given that Blake is an outsider who resents the nobility, she doesn't know how it would work. In response, Lord Gillingham is like, I'm going to regret this, but you should know Blake is one of us -- he's the heir to his father's cousin, "Sir Severus Blake," and he stands to inherit "the baronetcy of one of the largest estates in Ulster." Mary's flabbergasted and doesn't understand how she could not have known, but Lord Gillingham explains that Sir Severus is a distant relation and Blake has always downplayed the relation, "but he is not an outsider. In fact, he's going to be a lot more eligible than I am." He asks if this makes a difference to her, and I kind of love her for replying that obviously it does, but the good news she can offer is that she no longer feels like she wants to be a lonely widow for the rest of her days. He takes her hand and agrees that it's something to celebrate, and I'm enjoying this particular triangle but ultimately I'm on Team Tony.
Isobel sees Lord Merton coming and is all "HIDE ME" to the Dowager Countess, and I'm not sure when Isobel became quite such a Merton-phobe, especially given that she told him she was coming, but the Dowager Countess is going to enjoy it, practically giggling that he's no doubt approaching to lead her "down the primrose path of dalliance!" Hee. Undeterred, Lord Merton asks Isobel to dance, and when she says she's not much for it, he tells her he isn't either, "so we're a perfect match!" Isobel woodenly submits to his unflappable cheerfulness, while Lord Gillingham consents to dance with Rose, leaving Blake free to snap Mary up. Edith -- looking as she has for half a season ready to keel over from stress -- asks Branson if he enjoyed the whole celebration after all, and he smiles that he did, "but we need to stand up to them, you and I. We may love them, but if we don't fight our corner, they'll roll us out flat." Edith is like, how very right you are before marching over to Cora and telling her she'd like to go home in the morning -- because she might go to the Continent briefly. Rosamund, sensing danger, asks if someone else couldn't go in her stead, but Edith, with new steel in her voice, says she's afraid not. "I'm absolutely afraid not." Edith, make sure to bring a stuffed pig for the kid to get used to.
Upstairs, Martha runs into the Dowager Countess, who's retiring, and tells her it's so sensible of her. "A woman your age needs her rest!" This is probably the writers having fun, because although given the ages of their kids Martha should theoretically be significantly younger than the Dowager Countess, Shirley MacLaine and Maggie Smith are in fact only months apart. The Dowager Countess thinks the reverse is true if Martha was "taken in by that booby Aysgarth," and after Martha calls the Dowager Countess "stuck-up" and the Dowager Countess makes condescending mention of "tales of how the West was won," Martha informs her that she turned Aysgarth down. "I have no wish to be a great lady." The Dowager Countess sniffs that what she sees in the mirror must reinforce that, but Martha gets in the last word: "What I see is a woman who's not afraid of the future. My world is coming nearer, and your world? It's slipping further and further away." With that, she heads back downstairs, and while the Dowager Countess looks stricken, I have to say that as much as I enjoy Shirley MacLaine, this Martha appearance didn't do nearly as much for me as the last one. Maybe it's that she barely interacted with the family except for the Dowager Countess, and last time they both seemed to enjoy their frenemy status; this time it really came across like it was exhausting for both of them.
Speaking of exhaustion, Mrs. Hughes finds Carson uncharacteristically asleep in a chair, a cup of tea still in his hands. Hearing her footsteps, he opens his eyes, and she wearily tells him breakfast is done, but there are still quite a few people in the ballroom. He tells her to go to bed and take the others; he'll keep Jimmy James and let him sleep in. Mrs. Hughes then brings up the Thursday outing, and Carson confesses the staff wasn't into any of his choices, so he wonders if they shouldn't settle for a day by the sea? Mrs. Hughes is like, so glad you got there in the end and as stakes go, could this be lower? You couldn't say "How about the beach" rather than congratulate yourself on your little bulletin-board trick, Mrs. Hughes?
Apparently the party lasted to through the night, as Mary walks Blake out into the morning light and asks him why he never told her about his cousin. He admits that at first he didn't want her to take their similar background and assume he shared her sensibilities, while later on he wanted to win her on his own. He asks who told her, supposing it could have been anyone, but she tells him it was Lord Gillingham: "I think he wants it to be a fair fight." He asks if now the battle commences, and she's like "Yeah, basically." Heh. But do they have formal rules for this sort of thing? I wouldn't put it past the British of the time.
Back at Downton, Edith gets a tea tray in the library from some non-speaking staff member who's been left behind, which she's going to enjoy with Drewe, who asks her how long she'll be in Switzerland. She tells her it'll be three or four days at the most -- she's certainly confident about her ability to convince this couple to go back to being childless -- and that she'll pay him for the first month, adding that with three kids of his own she can only imagine he's got "most of the paraphernalia already." She then asks if he's quite sure his wife is willing to take this on, and he assures her "Margie" dotes on kids. "In fact, I'm not sure we've had our last." Note to Edith's kid: Knock before entering new parents' bedroom. Drewe assures Edith that his wife will love the child like her own, and Edith realizes they'll need a good cover story, so she proposes that he say the kid's parents are dead and the mother was a friend of his, so that's why they're taking her in. We also learn that Edith is not being completely straight with Drewe either, as she tells him the mother was in fact a friend of hers, but Lord Grantham and Cora disapproved of Edith's friendship with the baby's mother (this is the part that's likely to ring most false), so she can't keep the baby at the Abbey. Edith goes on that everything has to be kept a secret from her family (although we know that the Dowager Countess will obviously be aware of the truth, given that she was briefed on this idea in the first place), and Drewe, feeling this deeply, offers to make it their secret -- he won't even let his wife in on the truth. He goes on that he'll send a letter to himself that night (if you need someone to do handwriting, I know a guy) appearing to be regarding an old friend of his who died and requesting him to take the child. The emotion behind the way he puts it makes it seem obvious he knows it's actually Edith's child, and I think Edith realizes that as she's clearly overwhelmed by his generosity: "How comforting it is that there really are a few good people left in the world." Indeed! And Edith, maybe if you learn pigs you'll have an excuse to go over there more often!
Beach time! After running around playing a little footie, Thomas sits down for his daily harassment of Baxter, but she's taken Molesley's words to heart and basically tells him to give her his best shot. This wards Thomas off, after which Molesley similarly flops down for a rest and Baxter tells him she has to thank him: "There are things in my past that had made me afraid. But I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not sure what will happen, but whatever it is, it's better than being afraid." She goes on that he's made her strong, and he's like, who me? The self-deprecation looks a lot better when he's happy.
Daisy, weirdly twitching like she's allergic to sand, tells Slade she won't be coming to America after all. He confesses he didn't tell her the part where he likes her because he was scared he'd frighten her off -- good thinking -- but while she's of the opinion that they want different things, "it means that much to me to hear you say it." Ivy then takes her shot/horns in by asking if she could give cooking for Harold a try -- she knows all the dishes Daisy makes! Slade's reaction makes it pretty clear he doesn't like Ivy That Way, which is just as well, but Daisy urges him to give her a try, as he's already told Harold he's got an English cook "and he won't know the difference." Heh. But seriously, does world's biggest rube Ivy have any idea what international travel entails? Well, I guess she'll find out, and thank God for it, too. She assures him that this is their chance and she won't let him down, and after they walk off, presumably to discuss details, Mrs. Patmore tells Daisy that was kind of her. I mean, I wouldn't necessarily assume that facilitating the departure of a mostly hated rival has much to do with kindness, but in this case it seems to be true -- plus Daisy's jazzed about Slade being hot for her chili even if she doesn't like him back. "I'd kiss him, if it wouldn't give him the wrong idea." Well, you might as well; he's as good as going off to war for all you'll see of him again.
Elsewhere, Anna and Bates are still on about the damn coat, because God knows these two never met a subject they couldn't beat to death, while Carson wades into the water and looks like he's going into hypothermia already. He also appears terrified, like he can't swim, but Mrs. Hughes holds his hand, adding that he can always do so if he needs to feel steady. Carson: "I don't know how, but you manage to make that sound a little risqué!" Heh. Mrs. Hughes takes his hand and tells him that at their ages, if they do get a little risqué so be it, and they wade out into the water, giving us the break between seasons to fight the tooth decay they just imparted. For me, the season was mostly forgettable, but still enjoyable; I think the show's best days are behind it but at its bones it's still something that's entirely up my alley. But perhaps Season Five will surprise -- thanks for reading and hope to see you then!
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.