Original subtitles

You made me jump.

Daisy, what is the matter with you?

You're all thumbs.

Sony.

I hate this room.

Why? What's the matter with it?

ANNA: Daisy?

Who's that from, Papa?

You seem very absorbed.

Your Aunt Rosamond.

Anything interesting?

Nothing to trouble you with.

Poor Aunt Rosamond.

All alone in that big house.

I feel so sorry for her.

I don't.

All alone, with plenty of money, in a house in Eaton Square?

I can't imagine anything better.

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

There will come a day when someone thinks

you mean what you say.

It can't come soon enough for me.

Carson, I'll be in the library.

Will you let me know when Her Ladyship is down?

Certainly, m'lord.

Sybil, darling, this one's for you.

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

But you never said.

I didn't want you to be disappointed.

I thought you'd given up.

I'll never give up and nor will you.

Things are changing for women, Gwen.

Not just the vote, but our lives.

But it's tomorrow at 10:00.

Last time we waited for weeks and weeks,

and this one's tomorrow.

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

ISOBEL: I thought I'd write to Edith

to settle our promised church visit.

If you want.

Well, we can't just throw her over

when she made such an effort to arrange the last one.

It's all in your head.

I don't think so.

Then she's barking up the wrong tree.

Poor Edith.

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

Ma'am,

I was wondering if I might take some time this afternoon

to help in the village hall.

Why? What's happening?

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

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

Of course you must go.

And so, I'm afraid, must I.

Is Mr. Carson about?

I don't think so.

I was just looking for him myself.

Busy?

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

I've had a letter from Rosamond.

Don't tell me.

She wants a saddle of lamb

and all the fruit and vegetables we can muster.

She enjoys a taste of her old home.

She enjoys not paying for food.

There's something else.

Apparently the word is going round London

that Evelyn Napier has given up any thought of Mary,

that he's going to many one of the Semphill girls.

She writes as if, somehow, it reflects badly on Mary.

Your dear sister is always such a harbinger of joy.

No, as if...

as if Mary had somehow been found wanting in her character.

Well, I don't believe Mr. Napier would have said that.

Neither do I really, but...

She ought to be married.

Talk to her.

She never listens to me.

If she did, she'd many Matthew.

What about Anthony Strallan?

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

I doubt she'd want to sit next to him at dinner,

let alone many him.

She has to many someone, Robert.

And if this is what's being said in London,

she has to many soon.

You shouldn't do that in here.

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

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

THOMAS: He'll mind if I tell him.

That's pretty.

Do you think so?

She wants it put onto a new shirt,

but it's a bit old-fashioned to my taste.

No, it's lovely.

Have you recovered, Daisy?

What from?

She had a bit of a turn

when we were in Lady Mary's room, didn't you?

I'm fine, thank you.

What sort of a turn?

Did you see a ghost?

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

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

It ought to be.

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

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

Come on, Daisy, what was it?

I don't know.

I was thinking, first we had the Titanic...

Don't keep harping back to that.

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

I think of how I laid the fires for Mr. Patrick,

but he drowned in them icy waters.

Oh, for God's sake.

And then there's the Turkish gentleman.

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

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

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Afternoon, ma'am.

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

Not till the day itself.

I remember a superb cup from last year.

The Grantham Cup.

It was donated by the late Lord Grantham

for the best bloom in the village.

And who won it?

I did.

Well done.

And the year before?

Her Ladyship won that one, too.

ISOBEL: Heavens...

how thrilling.

And before that?

You've met my father.

Good afternoon, Mr. Molesley.

What are you showing this year?

Oh, this and that.

MOLESLEY: Only the finest roses in the village.

Really? What an achievement.

It's a wonderful area for roses.

We're very lucky.

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

Won't we, Mr. Molesley?

If you say so, Your Ladyship.

What's up with you?

Nothing.

His Lordship's blaming Mr. Napier for spreading gossip

about Lady Mary, but it was you, wasn't it?

Why do you say that?

Because Napier wasn't in on it.

Only four people know he was in her room that night.

You, me, Lady Mary, and possibly Daisy.

And I haven't said nothing to nobody.

Well, I didn't tell about Pamuk.

I just wrote that Lady Mary was no better than she ought to be.

Who did you write it to?

Only a friend of mine- valet to Lord Savident.

You know what they say about old Savident-

not so much an open mind as an open mouth.

No wonder it's all round London.

You won't tell, will you?

I'm in enough trouble as it is.

Why, what's happened?

Mr. Bates saw me nicking a bottle of wine.

Has he told Mr. Carson?

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

I wish we could be shot of him.

Then think of something quick.

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

I thought you went to bed hours ago.

I was writing a note for Lynch.

I need the governess cart tomorrow.

Oh?

I'm going to Malton.

Oh, don't risk the traffic in Malton.

Not now every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to have a motor.

Hardly.

Last time I was there,

there were five cars parked in the marketplace,

and another three drove past while I was waiting.

Get Branson to take you in the car.

Neither of us are using it.

I thought I'd pop in on old Mrs. Stuart.

Will you tell Mama if I forget?

You're late this morning.

The library grate needed a real going-over.

Are any of them down yet?

Lady Sybil's in the dining room.

I'll start with her room, then.

Daisy?

You know when you were talking about

the feeling of death in the house?

I was just being silly.

I found myself wondering about the connection

between the poor Turkish gentleman, Mr. Pamuk,

and Lady Mary's room.

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

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

I'm late enough as it is.

MATTHEW: Hello.

Is everything all right?

Oh, hello.

I am about to send a telegram.

Oh.

Papa's sister is always nagging him to send supplies to London,

and then we cable her so her butler can be

at King's Cross to meet them.

It's idiotic, really.

Is this Lady Rosamond Painswick?

You have done your homework.

She wrote to welcome me into the family,

which I thought pretty generous given the circumstances.

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

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

My mother's trying to set something up.

Well, watch out.

I think she has big plans for you.

Then she's in for an equally big disappointment.

Is it all right to do the fire?

ANNA: Why are you so late?

I went back to my room after I'd woken everyone,

and I just shut my eyes for a moment.

I've been trying to catch up ever since.

ANNA: Have you had any breakfast?

Not a crumb.

Here.

You can't take her biscuits.

She never eats them. None of them do.

They're just thrown away and changed every evening.

Thanks.

She wouldn't mind anyway.

She's nice, Lady Sybil.

Gwen?

May I ask why you are sitting on Lady Sybil's bed?

Well, you see, I had a turn,

like a burst of sickness, just sudden-like.

I had to sit down.

It's true.

Well, you'd better go and lie down.

I'll tell Mrs. Hughes.

I don't need to interrupt her morning.

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

And how many bedrooms have you still got to do?

Just one.

Lady Edith.

And you can manage on your own?

Well, she's no use to man or beast in that state.

Go on.

Shoo.

Daisy?

May I ask why you are holding Lady Sybil's biscuit jar?

I was just polishing it before I put it back.

See that you do.

MRS. PATMORE: I'm sorry, m'lady,

but I can't do more than my best.

Is there some difficulty, Your Ladyship?

Dear Mrs. Hughes,

as you know, we're giving a dinner on Friday

for Sir Anthony Strallan.

Yes, m'lady.

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

It's called Apple Charlotte.

Do you know it?

I'm not sure.

His sister, Mrs. Chetwood, sent me the receipt.

I'm trying to persuade Mrs. Patmore to make it.

And I'm trying to persuade Her Ladyship

that I have already planned the dinner with her

and I can't change it now.

Why not?

Because everything's been ordered and prepared.

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

Apples, lemons, butter...

I cannot work from a new receipt at a moment's notice!

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

Problem?

Who mentioned a problem?

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

Very well.

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

We'll stay with the raspberry meringue.

And very nice it'll be, too.

I'm sure.

I'm so sorry about that, m'lady.

Never mind, I was asking a lot.

Do look after that girl.

Daisy?

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

I wonder.

Mrs. Patmore looks ready to eat her alive.

I was only trying to help.

Oh, like Judas was only trying to help, I suppose,

when he brought the Roman soldiers to the garden!

I had to let the skirt down a little but I can put it back.

No, it's yours...

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

It'd only be Anna, and she wouldn't give me away.

She's like a sister.

She'd never betray me.

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

Walk on.

Shall I give you a hand?

Ah, would you?

It takes half the time with two.

I always feel a bit sorry for Lady Edith.

Me, too.

Although I don't know why,

when you think what she's got and we haven't.

Mrs. Hughes said she was after the other heir,

Mr. Patrick Crawley, the one who drowned.

That was different.

She was in love with him.

What happened?

She never got a look in.

He was all set up to many Lady Mary.

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

Sad to think about.

It's always sad when you love someone

who doesn't love you back.

No matter who you are.

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

Oh.

Yes.

Very sad.

He was nice.

Well, thank you for that.

Much appreciated.

My pleasure.

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

Why ever not?

Sometimes we're not at liberty to speak.

Sometimes it wouldn't be right.

Take a seat.

VIOLET: The flower show?

Oh, I thought! was in for another telling off

about the hospital.

No, this time it's the flower show.

I've been to see old Mr. Molesley's garden,

and his roses are the most beautiful

I've ever laid eyes on.

Go on.

You may not know it,

but I believe the committee feel obliged

to give you the cup for the best bloom

as a kind of local tradition.

No, no, I do not know that.

I thought I usually won the prize

for best bloom in the village

because my gardener had grown the best bloom in the village.

Yes, but you don't usually win, do you?

You always win.

Yes.

I have been very fortunate in that regard.

But surely, when Mr. Molesley's garden is so remarkable

and he is so very proud of his roses...

You talk of Mr. Molesley's pride.

What about my gardeners pride?

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

All I'm asking is that you release them from any obligation

to let you win.

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

But that is precisely what they already know.

And do.

I'm sorry, m'lord.

I didn't think you'd be in here.

Are my eyes deceiving me or is one of these missing?

BATES: I don't know them well enough.

No, why would you?

But there's a very pretty little blue one,

with a miniature framed in French paste.

It was made for a German prince.

I forget who.

Unless it's been moved for some reason.

But why would it be?

Can you help?

I shall be so grateful.

Our horse has cast a shoe.

Is there a smithy nearby?

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

BOTH: Thank you.

SYBIL: See, help's at hand,

and at least it happened on the way home.

Well, they'll be worried about you,

and if they check on me, I'm finished.

Is Her Ladyship wearing that now?

Oh, no, this is for Friday night.

I just thought I'd give it a press while I had the time.

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

I've got the changes ready for the other two,

but there's no sign of her.

Don't you start.

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

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

Sony, Miss,

but Mr. Crump's staying over at the Skelton estate tonight.

He's working there all week.

Is there anyone else?

Not that I know of.

SYBIL: Come on, Dragon, come on!

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

CORA: What if she's overturned?

What if she's lying in a ditch somewhere?

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

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

They're growing up.

They've grown up.

They need their own establishments.

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

No one ever warns you about bringing up daughters.

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

Instead they're at each others throats from dawn till dusk.

You look done in.

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

Where were you?

You came up, then?

Of course I did.

I had to change for the afternoon.

Did you cover for me?

What do you think?

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

Oh, Anna, it was a nightmare.

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

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

So, did you get the job?

Well, we'll have to wait and see.

Sony to bother you, m'lady,

but your mother wanted you to know Lady Sybil's back.

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

What happened to her?

The horse went lame.

Is there anything else?

There is something that's been troubling me.

You remember the Turkish gentleman, Mr. Pamuk?

The one who died all sudden-like?

Of course I remember.

Well, it's Daisy, m'lady.

The kitchen maid.

Only she's been talking recently

as if she had ideas about Mr. Pamuk's death.

What sort of ideas?

Well, I've no proof, and maybe I'm wrong,

but I've a sense she knows something but won't say what.

Something involving Lady Mary.

Well, how absurd.

What could she know?

Whatever it is, she won't say.

Not to us, anyway.

Have you spoken to Lady Mary about this?

I didn't like to, m'lady.

It seemed impertinent somehow.

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

Quite right.

Bring the girl to my room- tomorrow after breakfast.

What did she want?

Nothing.

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

Poor darling.

She had to walk for miles.

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

No, I don't believe you would.

I couldn't say, m'lady.

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

I didn't see nothing.

Not much.

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

Now, it's Daisy, isn't it?

Yes, m'lady.

I'm sure you see O'Brien only acted as she did

because she is concerned.

I suppose so, m'lady.

She seems to think

that you are in possession of some knowledge

that is uncomfortable for you.

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

Why should you be burdened with Mary's secret?

My dear, my heart goes out to you.

It really does.

Oh, there, there.

You've been carrying too heavy a burden for too long.

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

VIOLET: You seem well prepared.

They'll add a few more flowers before we open in the morning,

but I think we're nearly there.

Do look at Mr. Molesley's display.

He's worked so hard.

They're rather marvelous, aren't they?

MARY: Lovely.

Well done, Mr. Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

I think everyone is to be congratulated.

It's splendid.

ISOBEL: But do look at these roses.

Have you ever seen the like?

My dear Mrs. Crawley believes I am profiting

from an unfair advantage.

Oh?

She feels in the past

I have been given the cup merely as a matter of routine

rather than merit.

That's rather ungallant, Mother.

I'm sure when we see Cousin Violet's roses,

it will be hard to think they could be bettered.

Hard, but not impossible.

You are quite wonderful,

the way you see room for improvement wherever you look.

I never knew such reforming zeal.

I take that as a compliment.

I must have said it wrong.

Poor Granny.

She's not used to being challenged.

Nor is Mother.

I think we should let them settle it between them.

So, are you interested in flowers?

I'm interested in the village.

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

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

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

I play, too.

I'm coming up for dinner tonight.

I suspect I'm there to balance the numbers.

Is it in aid of anything?

Not that I know of.

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

Maybe I'll shine by comparison.

VIOLET: Mary, we're going.

Maybe you will.

CARSON: Might I have a word?

I want to say something before I ring the gong.

I'm afraid it's not very pleasant.

His Lordship is missing a very valuable snuff box.

It appears to have been taken from the case in his room.

If one of you knows anything about this,

will he or she please come to me?

Your words will be heard in the strictest confidence.

Thank you.

I am sorry, Mr. Bates.

What an unpleasant thing to have happened.

Why are you picking on him?

Because he's the only one of us who goes in there.

But don't worry, I'm sure it'll turn up.

Thank you for your concern.

I hate this kind of thing.

I hope to God they find it.

Better get a move on.

I'm coming.

Does this brooch work?

I can't decide.

Charming.

Oh, dear, is it another scolding?

Of course not.

You're too grown up to scold these days.

Heavens.

Then it's really serious.

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

He's a nice, decent man.

His position may not be quite like Papa's,

but it would still make you a force for good in the county.

Mama, not again.

How many times am I to be ordered to many

the man sitting next to me at dinner?

As many times as it takes.

I turned down Matthew Crawley.

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

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

That's not the point.

No.

The point is when you refused Matthew,

you were the daughter of an earl with an unsullied reputation.

Now you are damaged goods.

Mama...

Somehow, I don't know how,

there is a rumor in London that you are not virtuous.

What?

Does Papa know about this?

He knows it and he dismisses it.

Because, unlike you and me, he does not know that it is true.

Let's hope it's just unkind gossip.

Because if anyone heard about...

Kemal.

My lover.

Kemal Pamuk.

Exactly.

If it gets around and you're not already married,

every door in London will be slammed in your face.

Mama, the world is changing.

Not that much, and not fast enough for you.

I know you mean to help.

I know you love me.

But I also know what I'm capable of,

and 40 years of boredom and duty just isn't possible for me.

I'm sorry

I do love you, and I want to help.

I'm a lost cause, Mama.

Leave me to manage my own affairs.

Why not concentrate on Edith?

She needs all the help she can get.

You mustn't be unkind to Edith.

She has fewer advantages than you.

MARY: Fewer?

She has none at all.

Open the oven!

Oh!

What's happened?

It's that bloomin' Daisy!

I've said she'll be the death of me,

and now my word's come true! - I didn't do nothing!

ANNA: Come and sit down.

Get away!

Get back to the stables!

What'll you serve now?

Them, of course.

I haven't got anything else.

Daisy, give us a hand, get that cloth.

What's the matter with that?

Are you sure?

Shouldn't we tell?

Certainly not.

Is the remove ready to go up?

Here we are.

Daisy, give him a hand with the vegetables.

They're up in the servery in the warmer.

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

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

STRALLAN: There's no doubt about it.

The next few years in farming

are going to be about mechanization.

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

Don't you agree, Lady Mary?

Yes, of course, Sir Anthony.

I'm sure I do.

Are we ever going to be allowed to turn?

EDITH: Sir Anthony,

it must be so hard to meet the challenge of the future,

and yet be fair to your employees.

That is the point, precisely.

We can't fight progress,

but we must find ways to soften the blow.

I should love to see one of the new harvesters,

if you would ever let me.

We don't have one here.

I shall be delighted.

I hope they find that snuff box.

What happens if they don't?

They'll organize a search, won't they?

I wouldn't be Mr. Bates.

Not for all the tea in China.

ANNA: Wouldn't you, Thomas?

I dare say he feels just the same about you.

What's the matter with you?

Nothing.

Oh, just a minute.

I don't like to put it on earlier.

It sinks in and spoils the effect.

Mama has released me, thank God.

Sir Anthony seems nice enough.

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

I'm rather looking forward to the flower show tomorrow.

Where Mr. Molesley's roses will turn everybody's heads.

But if you tell Granny I said so, I'll denounce you as a liar.

I wouldn't dare.

I'll leave that to my fearless mother.

How are the cottages?

They're coming on wonderfully.

I'd love to show you.

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

Good God!

What on earth?

I do apologize, Lady Grantham.

But I had a mouthful of salt.

What?

Everyone, put down your forks.

Carson, remove this.

Bring fruit, bring cheese,

bring anything to take this taste away.

Sir Anthony, I am so sorry.

ROBERT: Fains I be Mrs. Patmore's kitchen maid

when the news gets out.

SYBIL: Poor girl.

We ought to send in a rescue party.

You must think us very disorganized.

No, not at all.

These things happen.

ANNA: Hey, come on.

It's not that bad.

Nobody's died.

MRS. PATMORE: I don't understand it.

It must have been that Daisy.

She's muddled everything up before.

But I never...

Don't worry, Daisy.

You're not in the line of fire here.

I know that pudding!

I chose it 'cause I know it!

Which is why you wouldn't let Her Ladyship

have the pudding she wanted, because you didn't know it.

Exactly.

I don't see how it happened.

Come on, everyone.

Let's give Mrs. Patmore some room to breathe.

You, too.

I don't think I should leave her.

Yes, you should.

Mr. Carson knows what he's doing.

Don't do that.

Get William or the hall boy to do it.

It's beneath your dignity.

It won't kill me.

Now...

All in your own good time.

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

ANNA: I think I know where that snuff box is.

Where?

Hidden in your room.

You don't think...

'Course I don't, you silly beggar.

Then...

I bet Thomas'd like it if they took you for a thief.

Yes, I expect he would.

Go upstairs now and find it.

And when you have,

you can choose whether to put it in Thomas's room,

or give it to me, and I'll slip it into Miss O'Brien's.

You naughty girl.

Fight fire with fire.

That's what my mum says.

Poor Mrs. Patmore.

Do you think you should go down and see her?

Tomorrow.

She needs time to recover her nerves.

I knew there was something going on.

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

Good God!

As for you giggling like a ridiculous schoolgirl

with Cousin Matthew, it was pathetic.

Oh, poor Edith.

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

Who says he has?

Matthew.

He told me.

Oh, sorry.

Wasn't I supposed to know?

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

You saved the day.

I enjoyed it.

We seemed to have a lot to talk about.

Spare me your boasting, please.

Now who's jealous?

Jealous?

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

Even you can't take every prize.

Is that a challenge?

If you like.

I could almost manage for a long time

knowing the kitchen and where everything was kept.

Even with that fool girl.

I think you might owe Daisy an apology.

Maybe.

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

And you've not been to a doctor?

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

A blind cook, Mr. Carson.

What a joke.

Whoever heard of such a thing?

A blind cook.

I hope our salty pudding didn't spoil the evening for you.

On the contrary.

I'm glad you and Mary are getting along.

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

No, no reason at all.

I don't suppose there's any chance

that you could sort of start again?

Life is full of surprises.

Ah, I've been waiting for you.

I've found a book over here

and I think it's just the thing to catch your interest.

Oh, really?

STRALLAN: I'm intrigued. What could it be?

I was very taken by what you were saying over dinner...

STRALLAN: So right, Lady Mary.

How clever you are.

This is exactly what we have to be aware of.

There's a section just here that I was rather unsure about.

It seems we have both been thrown over for a bigger prize.

Heavens, is that the time?

You're not going?

The truth is my head's splitting.

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

Would you make my excuses to your parents?

Excuse me, Sir Anthony.

Has Mr. Crawley left?

Yes, m'lady.

But what about the car?

Branson can't have brought it round so quickly.

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

Thank you.

Mary can be such a child.

What do you mean, darling?

ROBERT: She thinks if you put a toy down,

it'll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.

What are you talking about?

Never mind.

Mr. Carson?

We were wondering about that snuff box.

Has it turned up yet?

I'm afraid not.

Well, I think we should have a search.

What?

It doesn't do to leave these things too long.

Mr. Carson can search the men's rooms,

Mrs. Hughes the women's.

And it should be right away, now we've talked of it,

so no one has a chance to hide the box.

Don't you agree, Mr. Carson?

Well, perhaps it's for the best.

Although I'm sure I won't find anything.

I'll fetch Mrs. Hughes.

I think I'll just...

I'd better check it's tidy.

THOMAS: The bastard's hidden it in my room or yours.

O'BRIEN: Why did I ever listen to you in the first place?

Miss O'Brien?

My, my.

You have been busy.

I was expecting you later than this.

I'll tell Molesley to lock up.

Thanks.

Good night, Mother.

How was your evening?

Did you enjoy yourself?

Quite.

The thing is, just for a moment I thought...

Never mind what I thought; I was wrong.

Good night.

My word, Molesley, splendid roses as usual.

Well done.

Thank you, Your Lordship.

All the stalls are set out very well this year.

CORA: This is enchanting.

Do we grow this?

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

I've only just found it myself.

CORA: Is it a secret?

Or could you tell Mr. Brocket?

I'd be glad to, m'lady.

CORA: He should come and see the rose garden.

He could give us some ideas.

ROBERT: Old Molesley's a champion.

Or he would be, in a fairer world.

Don't you start.

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

If Molesley deserves the first prize for his flowers,

the judges will give it to him.

They wouldn't dare.

Really, Robert.

You make me so annoyed.

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

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

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

We'll have missed the speeches as it is.

Don't be such a grouch.

You should have punished one of them at least.

They know that I know; that's worth something.

What do you think will happen to Mrs. Patmore?

She'll muddle through with Daisy for help.

In the long term, we'll just have to wait

for the doctor to give his opinion.

I hope there's something they can do.

I hope so, too.

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

Nothing is harder to live with than false hope.

I wish you'd just come out with it.

With what?

Whatever it is you're keeping secret.

I can't.

You don't deny it, then?

No, I don't deny it.

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

But I can't.

I'm not a free man.

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

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

Because...

because I love you, Mr. Bates.

I know it's not ladylike to say it,

but I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be.

You are a lady to me.

And I never knew a finer one.

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

One of the women.

No, you must go.

Then we can all hurry and meet you there.

Yes, all right.

I mustn't slow you down.

There's been too much of that already.

Have you recovered from our ordeal?

I got a letter this morning.

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

They are pleased to have met me,

but I do not quite fit their requirements.

So, it was all for nothing.

I don't agree.

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

Then I'm a fool,

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

VIOLET: And now...

When you ran off last night,

I hope you hadn't thought me rude.

Certainly not.

I monopolized you at dinner.

I had no right to any more of your time.

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

Please, don't apologize.

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

Now I should look after my mother.

Why was Cousin Matthew in such a hurry to get away?

Don't be stupid.

I suppose you didn't want him when he wanted you,

and now it's the other way round.

You have to admit it's quite funny.

I'll admit that if I ever wanted to attract a man

I'd steer clear of those clothes and that hat.

You think yourself so superior, don't you?

Well, I think she who laughs last laughs longest.

CORA: Did that missing box of yours ever turn up?

ROBERT: It was a fuss about nothing.

They must've put it back on the wrong shelf

when they were dusting.

Bates found it this morning.

Next time, have a proper look before you start complaining.

I'm sure the servants were frightened half to death.

Mea culpa.

And now, the Grantham Cup for the Best Bloom in the Village.

And the Grantham Cup is awarded to...

Mr. William Molesley...

for his Comptesse Cabarousse rose.

Bravo! Well done!

Bravo!

Congratulations, Mr. Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

Thank you for letting me have it.

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

But very well done.

Congratulations.

80 well deserved.

Bravo, Mama.

That must have been a real sacrifice.

And bravely borne.

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

But I...

All is well, my dear.

All is well.