All language subtitles for downton.abbey.s03e05.720p.bluray.x264-shortbrehd

The pains have stopped.
Nothing will happen yet.

Everything is fine.

You mean it was a false alarm?

Not exactly.

These early labour pains show
that the womb is preparing itself for birth.

Dr Clarkson, I am afraid
Lord Grantham doesn't enjoy medical detail.

The point is, can we all go back to bed?

You can. And so can I.

I'll see you out.

Sir Philip Tapsell will be here tomorrow.

Of course. If you think it advisable.

There really is nothing wrong?

Nothing at all.

She is a healthy young woman going through
a very normal and natural process.

I think I'd rather be in a city
if I were having a baby.

Where they have got
all the modern inventions.

Far away from everyone you know and trust?
I don't think I would.

What are you talking about
having babies for, Ivy?

I think we can leave that
for a little further down the menu, thank you.

It's always an idea to be prepared.

- I expect you're always prepared.
- I try to be, Mr Barrow.

I don't like the direction
this conversation is taking.

Could we all begin the day's tasks, please?

And remember,

Lady Sybil is in a delicate condition.
So no noise on the gallery.

It's exciting though, isn't it,
to have a baby in the house?

It won't make much difference to you.

Now get back in the kitchen
and do as you're told.

Well, I think that message got through.

We can't risk her welfare
to soothe Clarkson's feelings.

I know.

I like the old boy,
but he did misdiagnose Matthew,

and he did miss
the warning signs with Lavinia.

Thank you, O'Brien.

Is that fair?

He didn't want to get Matthew's hopes up
when it wouldn't make any difference.

And with Lavinia,
the disease could move like lightning.

I know, I know.

But even so.

Sir Philip Tapsell may have delivered
with many lords and Royal Highnesses,

but he doesn't know us.

I'll ask him to include Clarkson
in his deliberations. Will that satisfy you?

I suppose so.

- You look a bit puzzled.
- I am.

Mr Carson's asked me to wind the clocks.

You must be doing well.

In this house that marks you out
as First Footman more than anything could.

That's just it.
I said "thank you" and "right away",

but I know nothing about clocks.

You'd better ask Mr Barrow.

He's the clock expert.

He used to wind them, but of course
it's quite wrong for a valet to do it.

- Mr Barrow won't mind?
- Oh, no.

I can see he likes you,

and that's good,
since he's got the ear of his Lordship.

Yes, I suppose he would have.

I'd keep in with him if I were you.

- I will. Thank you.
- Think nothing of it.

I'm the size of a house.

My back hurts.

My ankles are swelling.

And my head aches.

Honestly, I cannot recommend this to anyone.

I am listening, but of course
I'm dying to start one of my own.

So you are not waiting?

Waiting for what?

I don't know. But I did wonder.

Mary, you know what I said
about the baby being Catholic?

I've just realised that the christening
will have to be here.

- At Downton
- Blimey!

I wanted the whole thing done in Dublin.

Out of sight, out of mind.

But we can't wait forever.

We can't not christen it, the poor thing.

You don't have to do this.
It's your baby, too.

I don't mind.

I mean...

I do believe in God.

But all the rest of it, vicars, feast days
and deadly sins, I don't care about all of that.

I don't know if the vicar knows any more
about God than I do.

And I love Tom.

So very, very much.

I'll let you rest.

And don't worry. I'll fight your corner
with Travis if it comes to it.

There.

Do you feel a slight increase
in the resistance?

I think so.

That's what you're watching for.

Never go past the point
where the clock is comfortable.

You make it sound like a living thing.

Ah, clocks are living things.

My dad was a clockmaker.

I grew up with clocks. I understand them.

Never wind them in the early morning
before a room has warmed up.

Nor too late, when the night air
cools them down.

Find a time when the family's out of the room.

But I don't understand.

Why was I kept away from you until now?

It doesn't matter.
Whatever the reason, it's over.

The point is that someone
has to question Mrs Bartlett.

You wrote and said she saw Vera
on the evening of the day of her death.

That's right.

She went for a walk,
the door was open and she went in.

And she saw Vera scrubbing pastry
from under her nails?

I wrote that because it was such
a strange detail for her to remember.

She was making the pie that she ate that night
when I was on the train back to Downton.

So Vera planned this?

She meant for you to be imprisoned?

She meant for you to be hanged
for her suicide? It was her revenge?

I want a revenge.

For both of us.

But they'll say you poisoned the milk
or the flour or something

to catch her after you'd gone.

They tested everything in the kitchen.
They said it was in the pastry,

where I couldn't have put it.

Oh, I hope she's burning in hell!

Don't go down that road.

Once you do, there's no way off it.

I've been thinking about you
since we last met,

and wanted to know how you were living.

Well, I've not gone back to...

Doing what I was doing,
if that's worrying you.

I've no Charlie to feed,
so now if I starve, I starve alone

- And I'd rather starve than do that.
- You see...

I thought you might work here for a while.

Helping Mrs Bird.

It would mean that when you moved on,
you will have had a respectable job,

with a respectable reference.

Are you sure you've thought about this,
ma'am?

What will Mrs Hughes' reaction be
or Lady Grantham's?

And old Lady Grantham?

I can't wait to hear
what she has to say about it.

Don't you want to come?

Oh, it's not that, ma'am.

You are offering a return to a wholesome
world and I am very, very grateful.

Well, then?

But I think it's gonna be
a lot more complicated than you allow.

Then we shall have to face
those complications together, shan't we?

- I'll take him from here.
- Sir.

- Bates seems very cheerful.
- Is he?

He had a visit from his wife earlier.
She must have brought him some good news.

It hardly seems fair, does it?
You've got an extra year,

and I've got a formal reprimand,
and Mr Bates, who's done it all,

who's made all the trouble for us,
gets good news.

What do you think it is?

Well, she can't be pregnant.
He was arrested a year ago.

Well, she might be.
But he wouldn't be very happy about it.

- So what do you want to do?
- Oh.

That'll need some thought.

But first,
what does this good news consist of?

When you shared with him,
where did he keep his letters?

Quite a few of the cottages
have been renovated.

Thanks to you.

Maybe a little thanks to me.

But many of the farms have been left entirely
to their own devices.

Coulter hasn't farmed
this properly for 20 years.

He struggles to pay the rent,
which is too low, anyway.

There's been no... investment.

Papa would say you can't abandon people
just because they grow old.

I agree. But it would be cheaper
to give him a free cottage

and work this land as it should be worked.

I see.

And you don't think Papa understands that?

Maybe he harks back to a time
when money was abundant

and there wasn't much need
to keep on top of it.

I think he equates being businesslike
with being mean,

or worse, middle class, like me.

The middle classes have their virtues,
and husbandry is one.

We ought to get back.

Sir Philip Thingy's due on the 7:00 train,

and you ought to be there
to hold Tom's hand.

Poor fellow.

He's so terrified.

But so thrilled at the same time.
As I would be.

As I will be.

The dear Duchess of Truro
is full of your praises, Sir Philip.

But then, of course, you know that.

She had quite a time
when she was first married.

But I said to her, "Never fear, Duchess,
I'll get a baby out of you one way or another."

And so you did.

Three boys. And as a result,
a secure dynasty, I'm glad to say.

But you see no complications here?

None at all.

Lady Sybil is a perfect model
of health and beauty.

We told our local doctor
we'd send a message to him

when it looks as if the baby's coming.

Dr Clarkson has known us all
since we were girls.

Yes. What's needed here, Lady Mary,
is a knowledge of childbirth, nothing more.

But, erm, if it soothes you, then of course.

He is most welcome.

I am going to check on Sybil.

Anna?

I'm sorry to trouble you, milord,
but I wondered if I might have a word.

Come into the library.

Matthew, will you take Sir Philip
to the drawing room?

Shall we go in?

As a matter of fact, Sir Philip, I was rather
hoping to have you to myself for a moment.

Do you know that
I was injured during the war?

I think I did hear something about it
from Lady Grantham.

My spine was very severely bruised.

And for a time,
it seemed I'd lost the use of my legs,

and everything else.

But the bruising reduced and you recovered?

Yes, I have heard of this. Well...

How relieved you must have been.

Yes, but I wonder now

whether the injury might have affected my...

I suppose I mean my fertility, if it may have
limited my chances of fathering a child.

Well, is everything working as it should?

Oh, yes.

Then, erm, why do you think
there may be a problem?

We're anxious to start a family.

We've been married for a few months
without any results.

My dear Mr Crawley,
may I point out the word that gives you away?

"Anxious."

Anxiety is an enemy to pregnancy.
Don't, whatever you do, feel anxious.

I can run a test if you wish,
but I would urge you to not bother,

for some time yet.

There you are. We were wondering
what had happened to you.

This is extraordinary.

Why did the police miss it so completely?

Mrs Bartlett never spoke to them.

- She never spoke to anyone.
- Except to you?

She didn't think the truth
would make any difference now.

She thought it was
only further proof of his guilt.

The difficulty is, she may not want to accept
Bates' innocence.

Doesn't she have to?

Not necessarily. She may think he drove his
wife to suicide and deserves to rot in prison.

In short, she may not wish to tell the truth
to set him free.

Then we need to get a statement from her

before she finds out
it could overturn the case.

I'll telephone Murray tonight. He can come up
here and talk to you and see Bates.

You were right, though.

The proof was out there and you've found it.

The editor of The Sketch wants me
to write for him.

He saw my letter to The Times
and wants to give me a regular column.

How regular?

And what about?

Once a week.

And I can write about whatever I like.

It would be the problems faced
by modern women rather than

the fall of the Ottoman Empire, but even so.

But will you write under your own name?

- I hadn't thought.
- You won't have an option.

That's what he's buying, that's what he wants,
your name and your title.

I don't know.

I thought Edith's letter to The Times
was very interesting.

Don't bother, Matthew.

I'm always a failure in this family.

I'm sad to hear this, Mrs Bird.

And I'm sad to say it, madam.

But it's kept me awake all night.

And I know I cannot work
alongside a woman of the...

A woman who has chosen that way of life.

- But Miss Parks has changed.
- Maybe she has and maybe she hasn't.

But if I tolerate her, I will be tarnished by her.

Suppose people come to think
that I'd followed the same...

profession as what she has.

Nobody could look at you
and think that, Mrs Bird.

Well, I hope not,
because I'm a respectable woman.

I may not have much,
but I have my good name

and I must protect it.

You'll have a month's wages in lieu of notice.

Where will you go?

Back to Manchester. I can stay with my sister.

She says there's a plenty of work
for a plain cook these days.

And they will find one in you.

Goodbye, Mrs Bird, and good luck.

Is there anything else you need
to know about having babies, Ivy?

Honestly, if I told Mrs Patmore
the things you two say to me,

you'd be up before Mr Carson.

So what are you doing
with your afternoon off?

- None of your business.
- I'd like to make it my business.

- Have you greased the cake tins?
- Yes.

- What about the pastry?
- It's in the larder.

Then get started
on the vegetables for tonight.

- She doesn't want much, does she?
- She doesn't like me.

- Why not?
- I don't know. She just doesn't.

Well, anyone who doesn't like you
needs their head examining.

I hope you agree with him, Jimmy.

That'd be telling.

Are we the first down? How is Sybil?

Sleeping, thank God.

She's been restless all afternoon.
I don't think it'll be long now.

I'm sorry it couldn't have been in Dublin.

We know how much it meant.

Nothing means more than she does.

And you're sure you have everything
you need?

- Quite sure.
- Hello, Granny. You're here. How nice.

Your grandmother will be with us
every night until the baby's born.

- I hate to get news second-hand.
- Well, you won't have long to wait.

I thought I'd ring up Dr Clarkson
after we've eaten.

Yes, I've been talking to Lord Grantham
about the good doctor.

Sir Philip feels the room
would be too crowded.

It might be better to leave old Clarkson
out of it for the time being.

But I said I'd telephone.

Well, it really isn't necessary.

I've given him my word.

Why don't I run down in the car after dinner
and fetch him?

The hollandaise for the fish.
Put it in the sauce boats for Alfred.

- I'm doing the souffl�s.
- As soon as I...

Will you just do it!

Out of me way. Quick!

What are you doing?

Haven't you done it?

- Oh, my God!
- What happened?

It's curdled and it's got to go up in a minute.
Oh, my Lord!

Ivy can manage it. Don't worry.
Go on with what you're doing.

Can you really?

I can.

- Now what?
- Give me an egg. Quickly.

- Dribble it in.
- But it's ruined.

Do what I say.

How does that work? It's magic.

It's one of the tricks of the trade.

How have you done that?

Just one of the tricks of the trade.

Right. Well, go on, take it up.

Well done, Ivy. You played a good one there.

- Thank her, Daisy.
- Yes, thank you.

That didn't hurt at all, did it?

I'll tell you what, Daisy.

Alfred won't like you any better
for being rough on her.

- I should have the fish.
- I'll do it.

There's nothing more tiring
than waiting for something to happen.

Edith, have you written back
to your editor yet?

What's this?

Edith has had an invitation to write
a newspaper column.

And when may she expect an offer
to appear on the London stage?

See?

Oh, God! Is it beginning?

Dinner's suspended, so to speak.

Yes, but suspended cancelled,
or suspended keeping it hot?

And what should I do about dinner
down here?

I couldn't tell you.

What...

What do you mean "concerned"?

Lady Sybil's ankles are swollen.
And she seems muddled.

What sort of muddled?

Not quite there.
Not quite in the present moment.

And what do you think it means?

It means she's having a baby.

A word, Dr Clarkson.

Excuse me.

Sir Philip mustn't bully him into silence.

My dear, this is just Clarkson's
professional pride.

Like barbers asking, "Who last cut your hair?"

They always want to be better
than any other practitioner.

- But we must listen to what he has to say.
- I quite agree.

I don't want to hurt Sir Philip's feelings.

If there's one thing that I am quite
indifferent to, is Sir Philip Tapsell's feelings.

You are upsetting these people
for no reason at all.

I am not!

I think she maybe toxaemic
with a danger of eclampsia,

in which case we must act fast.

There is no danger, whatsoever.

Judging by my experience,
Lady Sybil is behaving perfectly normally.

Do you not find the baby small?

Not unusually so.

And the ankles?

Maybe she has thick ankles.
Lots of women do.

But she does not.

I warn you, Doctor

If you wish to remain, you must be silent.

I cannot allow you to interfere.

Oh, Christmas!

Don't be burnt, don't be burnt.

Oh.

Are you all right, Ethel?
Only I heard a shout.

Fine, ma'am. Everything's fine.

It's a kidney souffl�, ma'am.

A kidney souffl�?
Isn't that a bit adventurous?

I've seen Mrs Patmore do it a hundred times.

Yes, but she can't have begun her career
as a cook by making a kidney souffl�.

Shall I try something else, ma'am?

No. If we are to avoid a midnight feast, it's...

too late to turn back.

Is everything all right?

I think so. I've just come to fetch
some warm milk in case she fancies it.

Mr Carson.

I'm glad I've caught you.

I've had a letter from Mrs Bird,
who used to work for Mrs Crawley.

- I didn't know she'd gone.
- Well, that's the point.

I've been thinking about what we should do.

You know I have a brother in Liverpool.
There might be an opening there.

- It'd mean working with cars again.
- No.

We're not going backwards.
You must promise me that.

God, I wish there was something I could do.

Just be here.

We can just lie back and look at the stars.

- Is she...
- No, it's all just as it should be.

Now what?

I want to test the latest sample of her urine.

Oh, for heaven's sake!

Just give the order to the nurse,
please, Sir Philip.

How's the young mother doing?

- Am I on duty, Dr Clarkson?
- What?

Only I swear I'm not on duty,
otherwise I wouldn't be lying here.

No.

No, you're not on duty.

Mrs Crawley has hired a prostitute
to manage her house?

And that's why Mrs Bird felt
she had no choice but to hand in her notice.

Nor did she, poor woman.

But Mr Carson,
this is Ethel we're talking about.

Our Ethel.

And Mrs Crawley was just trying to give her
a helping hand. Is that so wrong?

I do not criticise her for her charity,
but she hasn't considered her actions.

No respectable person,
certainly no respectable woman,

can now be seen entering her house.

But Ethel's given all that up!

I didn't think she was running a brothel
in Mrs Crawley's kitchen!

Can't we say nothing, for now?

Mrs Bird's gone and I don't remember
Ethel as any great cook,

so it may sort itself out.

Very well.

We shall keep silent for the moment.

But I don't want the maids going
into that house on any pretext whatsoever.

Is that clear?

Quite clear, Mr Carson.

Or the footmen.

It's my belief that Lady Sybil
is at risk of eclampsia.

- What is that?
- A rare condition

from which she is not suffering!

Tell him why you think she may be.

Her baby is small.

She's confused
and there's far too much albumin,

that is, protein, in her urine.

Dr Clarkson, please.
Have you forgotten my mother is present?

Peace. A woman of my age can face reality
far better than most men.

Look, the fact remains if I am right,
we must act at once.

And do what?

Get her down to the hospital
and deliver the child by Caesarean section.

But is that safe?

It is the opposite of safe. It would expose
mother and child to untold dangers!

She could pick up any kind of infection
in a public hospital!

An immediate delivery
is the only chance of avoiding the fits

that are brought on
by the trauma of natural birth!

- It may not work, but...
- Honesty at last.

Even if she were at risk from eclampsia,
which she is not,

a Caesarean is a gamble
which might kill either or both of them!

I think we must support Sir Philip in this.

But it's not our decision.
What does Tom say?

Tom has not hired Sir Philip.
He is not master here.

And I will not put Sybil at risk on a whim.
If you are sure, Sir Philip?

I am quite, quite certain.

You're being ridiculous,
obviously we have to talk to Tom.

Oh, don't look at me. Cora is right.

The decision lies with the chauffeur.

How are things going?

I'm not sure. The doctors are arguing,
and that's never a good sign.

Is everything all right?

Unfortunately, it seems it is not.

Could we get her to the hospital?

To move her now
would be tantamount to murder.

Sir Philip, admit it, you're beginning
to detect the symptoms yourself.

- You can see her distress.
- Can you?

Yes, Lady Sybil is in distress.
She's about to give birth.

Lord Grantham, Mr Branson,
time is running out.

We should be at the hospital by now.

If we'd acted at once, the baby would be born.

But if she has the operation now,
do you swear you can save her?

I cannot swear it, no.

But if we do not operate and if I am right
about her condition, then she will die.

If, if, if, if. Lord Grantham,
can you please take command?

Tom, Dr Clarkson is not sure he can save her.

Sir Philip is certain he can bring her
through it with a living child.

Isn't a certainty stronger than a doubt?

Robert, I don't mean to insult Sir Philip.
But Dr Clarkson knows Sybil.

He's known her all her life.

- So you'd take her to the hospital?
- I would have taken her an hour ago!

God help us.

Any news from the house, ma'am?

Not yet.

Matthew said he would try and telephone,
if it's not too late.

- Lady Sybil was always kind to me.
- Yes, she's a very dear girl.

What... What's in this?

Some honey. Was that not right?

It's perfectly fine for now, Ethel.

But perhaps not another time.

- Would you like anything, Mama?
- Oh, no.

Just good news of the baby
and a car to take me home.

I don't suppose I shall get either before long.

What about you, Tom?

I just feel so helpless.

We men are always helpless,
when a baby's in the picture.

You can come up. It's a girl.

- And they're both...
- They're fine.

Oh, thank God.

And hallelujah.

She's so beautiful.

Oh, my darling...

I do love you so much.

I just want to sleep, really.

Of course you do. You've earned it.

She's a wonderful baby.

I think we should let her sleep.

- Very well done.
- Thank you.

Mama.

Yes, my darling.

Tom is thinking of getting a job in Liverpool.

And going back to being a mechanic.
But it wouldn't be right for him.

He needs to move forward.

We'll talk about it tomorrow.
You don't need to worry about it now.

I think Papa may see it
as some kind of answer.

- And...
- Your father loves you very much.

I know. I know and I love him terribly.

But will you help me do battle

for Tom and the baby, if the time comes?

- Of course.
- Lady Grantham.

Now sleep, darling.

I'm sorry we doubted.

As to that, Lady Grantham,

it's always a good idea to forget most
of what was said during the waiting time.

And simply enjoy the result.

- Is there anything more to be done?
- Not really, the nurse will stay with her.

And so I suggest we all get some sleep

and meet again refreshed in the morning.

Show us a card trick, Jimmy.

That's it, the baby is born.

It's a girl. Now you can all go to bed.

Oh!

- Good news.
- Do you like Lady Sybil?

I do. We worked together in the hospital
during the war.

So I know her best than all of them, really.

She's a lovely person. Like you.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- Anything the matter?
- No. No.

Mr Barrow's so familiar all the time, isn't he?

I'm glad to hear it. That's a very good sign.

If he's taken to you, he'll definitely put in
a good word with his Lordship.

'Cause I'd like to tell him to keep his distance.

Do you want to get
your marching orders, then?

Why, what are you implying?
Nothing unseemly, I hope.

No. No, nothing like that.

Good night.

Mama. Mama, wake up, it's Sybil.

Can you hear me, darling? It's Tom.

- I need to be getting up.
- No, my darling.

- All you need to do is rest.
- My head.

- Sybil.
- Oh, my head!

- My head!
- Sybil, let me bathe your forehead.

It hurts! It hurts!

- What's happening?
- Oh, God. Oh, God!

- What's happening?
- God, no, no...

What the hell is happening, Sir Philip?

Sybil. She can't hear me.

Sybil, Sybil, it's Mary. Can you hear me?

- That looks as if...
- It looks as if what?

- This is eclampsia.
- Sybil, Sybil.

- But it cannot be.
- Sir Philip, you were so sure.

- She can't hear me.
- This is unbelievable.

- Somebody do something!
- The human life is unpredictable.

- But you were so sure!
- What can we do?

Help her! Help her, please!

Oh, God, no!

Dr Clarkson, should we take her
to the hospital?

- There's nothing that can be done.
- That's not possible, not now, not these days.

Once the seizures have started,
there's nothing to be done.

But you don't agree with him,
do you, Sir Philip?

Please, don't leave me. Help her,
help her, please! What's happening?

- She can't breathe.
- Please, please, just breathe.

There has to be something worth trying!

Come on, come on, breathe, love.

- Come on.
- Sybil.

Listen, it's me, my darling.
All you need to do is breathe, right now.

We've given her morphine and atropine.

What's happening?

Please breathe, love.

Please.

She can't breathe.

No, no.

Please, please...

Please, love.

- No, no...
- Please wake up.

Please don't leave me.

Don't leave me. Please wake up, love.

Please don't leave me.
Please don't leave me, love.

No! Oh, God!

Please, love.

But this can't be.

She's 24 years old.

This cannot be.

ls there anything we should do, Mr Carson?

Carry on, Daisy.

As we all must.

Thomas?

I don't know why I'm crying, really.

She wouldn't have noticed if I'd died.

You don't mean that.

No.

No, I don't.

In my life, I can tell you,
not many have been kind to me.

She was one of the few.

Oh, don't mind me.

The sweetest spirit under this roof has gone.

And I'm weeping myself.

Are you all right, Mr Carson?

I knew her all her life, you see.

I've known her since she was born.

We'll look after them.

We'll look after them both.

Don't you worry about that.

It's time to go to bed, Mama.

You'll need some rest to face tomorrow.

Not just yet.

This is my chance to say goodbye to my baby.

You go.

I'll be all right, I promise.

I could stay.

Or would you prefer to be alone?

Alone, I think, but thank you.

And Mary...

Could you ask your father to sleep
in the dressing room tonight?

Because you are my baby, you know.

You always will be. Always.

My beauty and my baby.

I've asked Carson to bring Anna here,
Mr Murray, but I...

I don't think it will be possible
for you to see Lord Grantham.

Not today.

- I'm sure you understand.
- Of course.

I should have guessed there was something
wrong when there was no car at the station.

What a dreadful, dreadful thing.

I'll leave you to it.

Mr Murray, I wonder if I might
have a word with you before you go

It's not the best day for it, but...

There's no knowing when
you might be up here again.

Of course, Mr Crawley.

I'm very sorry to trouble you
on a day like this, Mrs Bates.

You weren't to know.
None of us could have known.

The men from Grassby's have arrived.

- To take her away?
- Yes.

And we must let them.

Goodbye, my darling.

She was the only person living who always
thought you and I were such nice people.

Oh, Mary...

Do you think we might
get along a little better in the future?

I doubt it.

But since this is the last time we three
will all be together in this life,

let's love each other now,

as sisters should.

You see, what I have discovered
is quite simple, Mr Murray.

It's proof of my husband's innocence.

That seems a good place to start.

Yes, but... The key to his innocence

depends on the word
of a woman who hates him

and may want him to stay in prison,
whatever the truth.

Why not tell me everything you know?

Of course, this isn't the right time.

But you're here
and it's not a subject for the telephone.

No. But I must confess to you, Mr Crawley,

that even at this sad hour,
your words are music to my ears.

Testing times are coming
for these estates. Indeed,

they've already arrived.

And many great families
will go to the wall over the next few years.

It's never been more vitally important
to maximise the assets for a place like this

and run it with a solid business head.

What are you talking about?

Mr Crawley and I were
discussing the management of the estate.

He was outlining some interesting plans
for the future.

And do you intend to involve
my father in these fascinating plans?

Of course.

Then I cannot think this
a very appropriate moment

to be deciding the destiny of Downton,
Mr Murray.

When my sister's body has
just been removed from the house

and my father is quite unable
to see or speak to anyone.

I'm really only here to talk to Mrs Bates
about her new evidence.

- Naturally, if I'd known...
- No, no, that's quite different.

None of us would wish to keep Bates
in prison for an hour longer than necessary.

- Shall I fetch her?
- I've already seen her.

Now I'm on my way to York,

to visit Bates and learn
what he has to say about it.

Then thank you so much
for coming all this way.

Lady Mary, please tell your parents
how very sorry I am.

Of course.

Mr Murray is just leaving.

I'm sorry, darling, forgive me.
I wasn't thinking, it's just that...

- Murray was in the house...
- Papa has lost his youngest daughter.

I think that's enough.

Or does he have to lose control
of his estate on the same day?

And the challenge is to get
a statement from Mrs Bartlett

before she realises its significance.

That's it.

I can't stop thinking about Lady Sybil.

A lovely young woman
at the height of her happiness.

If I had any beliefs, that would shake them.

Make your way out now!

I'll keep you informed, Mr Bates.

- I'll do my very best for you.
- Thank you, Mr Murray.

I suppose that's his lawyer.

Lord Grantham's lawyer, more like.

I don't care if he's lawyer
to the Prince of Wales.

He'll get a shock
when he contacts Mrs Audrey Bartlett.

- Oh, Carson.
- Good afternoon, milady.

We've seen some troubles, you and I.

Nothing worse than this.

Nothing could be worse than this, milady.

Ah, Mama.

Oh, my dears.

You'll be glad to know
they've found a nurse for the baby.

She's already here.

Good. Good.

- Where's Tom?
- He's upstairs.

I've asked if he wants anything. He says no.

He wants his wife back,
but that's what he can't have.

I must write to Dr Clarkson
and have it sent down before dinner.

Darling, there's no need for that.

I should, I want to.
I have to apologise for our behaviour

What? Why?

Because if we'd listened to him,
Sybil might still be alive.

But Sir Philip and your father knew better
and now she's dead.

Why... Why did she say that?

Because there is some truth in it.

Here, my dear, when tragedies strike

we try to find someone to blame.

And in absence of a suitable candidate
we usually blame ourselves.

You are not to blame, no one is to blame.

Our darling Sybil has died

during childbirth.

Like too many women before her.

And all we can do now

is cherish her memory.

And her child.

Nevertheless, there is truth in it.