Roll Up! Roll Up For The Downton Abbey Manor House Tour!

We open the episode on Molesley, handing out leaflets promoting what I assume is the village's hottest all-nude nudes?

...Bollocks, it's not. Instead, the flyers are to attract punters to buy tickets for a tour of Downton Abbey, as a fundraiser for the hospital. Lord G, still in bed after his surgery in the last episode, crabs that he doesn't think there's anything in the house that the poors would care to gawk at jealously (I'm paraphrasing), so the kids have to explain: "People want to see a different sort of home," says Mary. "It's not the things in it." "There's a curiosity about these places, about this way of life," adds Tom. "Mary and Tom have made the decision," says Cora firmly. "Ah, I know well enough that when MARY has spoken, my opinion has little bearing on the matter," says Lord G.

Haha, Lord G, you out-of-touch dummy, but seriously, yes, Mary is the queen, bow down.

In the servants' hall, Carson -- surprise -- also isn't thrilled about opening the doors to the unwashed masses, assuming people are going to try to steal shit (as if anyone would notice if one of the 5000 end table tchotchkes walked out of there anyway). Bates doesn't get the appeal of the event either, but Thomas does: "I suppose I always wonder whether someone else is having a better time than I am," Thomas comments. In other words, FOMO. Carson says that's exactly what's so dangerous: "You think they must be having a better time and then you want them not to have a better time, and the next thing you know there's a guillotine in Trafalgar Square!" "I think all these houses should be open to the public!" pinkos Daisy, because of course she does. "What gives them the right to keep people out?" Um, they're private homes? "The law of property," thunders Carson (ugh, I hate it when he and I agree). Molesley thinks it will be nice to give the ticket-buyers access to "fine craftsmanship and beautiful paintings," but then chuckles, "They're bound to start asking why the Crawleys got all of this and I haven't." "Thank you, Mr. Molesley, I couldn't have put it better myself," says Carson. "But why have they, Mr. Carson?" Thomas asks. "How is your job search going, Mr. Barrow?" snaps Carson. What a bitch!

Over at the Dower House, Isobel and the Dowager C are discussing GUESS WHAT ("But why should anyone pay to see a perfectly ordinary house?" what's-a-weekends the Dowager C), but swiftly move on from the open house to Lord G's health. Isobel believes he's doing well, but when she says that "Cora's very competent" as a nurse, the Dowager C sniffs, "Yes, she's 'competent' -- leading revolution without turning a hair!" When Isobel adds that Dr. Clarkson is bullish on the fundraiser, the Dowager C marvels, "Clarkson was there! Oh, so he really has weakened." The Dowager C declares that Lord G's life was saved because he was brought to the hospital nearby, which she -- of course -- thinks proves her point about the hospital merger WE ARE SOMEHOW STILL TALKING ABOUT. Isobel then makes the mistake of remarking, "I know you think that changes things, but as Lord Merton pointed out, Robert would have been treated there even after the handover," which the Dowager C seizes on: "How is Lord Merton?" "And you -- are you weakening?" asks the Dowager C. "NO," Isobel snaps. Oh, are we...still acting like Isobel and Lord Merton are a thing? When the season is 3/4 over and their former relationship hasn't come up since MAYBE the premiere? OKAY, I GUESS.

Some Daisies Stink

Situation: While Daisy is at Mr. Mason's helping him to put the finishing touches on the house, he gives her a note of thanks to pass on to Mrs. Patmore.

What makes it awkward? Daisy is a cow who doesn't want anyone to be happy, apparently? Other than the fact that she's Mr. Mason's daughter-in-law -- which, as I recall, is a role she was reluctant to take on in the first place -- we still don't know why Daisy is being protective-shading-into-abusive about whatever might be on the verge of potentially starting up between Mr. Mason and Mrs. Patmore. Whatever the reason we have yet to find out, Daisy can't stop inserting herself between Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Mason. She not only opens Mr. Mason's note -- she throws it away, though Mrs. Patmore happens upon it in the kitchen trash anyway. Later, when Daisy and Molesley are discussing the day they're about to take off for their exams (the headmaster, Mr. Dawes, has a teaching assistant-type position in mind for Molesley, but he has to take an exam first, the same day Daisy takes hers), Mrs. Patmore mentions bringing a crew of well-wishers to the school along with Molesley and Daisy's lunches and makes the mistake of suggesting that she bring Mr. Mason as well, causing this outburst from Daisy: "I don't understand why you can't just leave him alone!" Later still, Mr. Mason has the temerity to bring a basket of fresh vegetables to thank Mrs. Patmore for all her kindnesses, and Daisy bites his head off: "WHY BOTHER? HAVE YOU SEEN THE KITCHEN GARDENS HERE? THERE'S ENOUGH VEGETABLES TO FEED AN ARMY -- YOU NEED THEM MORE THAN WE DO!" Daisy's a real treat.

How is order restored? It's not. Good luck finding some tiny scrap of happiness in this uncaring world as long as Daisy's around, Mr. Mason and Mrs. Patmore!

Peter Coyle's Been Sentenced To Serve Ten Years

So says Baxter when she's updating Cora before bed. That's the last we need to hear of or think about him then, what? Ha ha, YOU WISH.

Ban Men (Retroactively)

Alert Type: Petty Tyrant Alert.

Issue: Remember how Carson made Mrs. Hughes cook for him and then slagged off everything she made? Well, now he wants her to start making him breakfast sometimes too -- and also get some hallboys in to polish, and also get the housemaids to show her how to make a bed up to his standards.

Complicating Factors: Mrs. Hughes is a housekeeper? And she doesn't care for the implication that she doesn't know what she's fucking doing.

Resolution: This matter isn't really settled either; the open house happens and distracts everyone's attention from Mrs. Hughes's sloppiness.

Suggestion: If Carson's going to make Mrs. Hughes continue cooking for him and bring him his assembled plate at the table, there's really nothing stopping her from dosing his with arsenic.

Hail To The Chief

Who called the meeting? Isobel.

What's it about? THE FAAAAAAAACKIIIIIIIIIIING HOSPITALLLLLLLLLLLLL.

How'd it go? Kind of a mixed bag? Isobel and Dr. Clarkson inform Cora that the local hospital is going to merge with the one in York. Dr. Clarkson and Isobel tell Cora they're both going to stay on in their current roles...but the Board of Governors want Cora to be the new president. The way the letter from York puts it is that the current president, the Dowager C, is being "allowed to step down after so many years of noble service." "Golly," breathes Cora. "They've sacked the captain." Without saying whether she's ready to accept the offer, Cora asks Dr. Clarkson whether he supports the idea; turns out he's the one who had suggested her: "Lady Grantham is not as young as she was....I'm afraid she'd be almost willing the new regime to fail." Cora agrees that's probably true. Dr. Clarkson adds, "Besides, I want to involve the new president in the logistics of running things. She would never have agreed to take that on." "So I'm to step into her shoes, and then be given more responsibility than she had?" marvels Cora, who I guess doesn't understand how work works. (The answer is basically yes.) She says she'll have to talk to Lord G about it, but Dr. Clarkson says she'll have to give an answer soon, since they don't want anyone to come up with another name. Cora's not so sure about that. I AM SURE I AM DONE WITH THIS.

Snipster Sisters

Anna having told Mary that she's having some unspecified issue with her pregnancy yaaaaaaaaawn, Mary's leapt on this excuse -- much as she would any excuse -- to take Anna to Dr. Ryder and also surprise Henry. When she tells Tom she arranged a group dinner at a restaurant called Criterion, Edith pipes up from behind a chair, where no one saw her nor had involved her in the conversation, to say that she and Michael used to go there. Mary crabs, "Do you have to put a dampener on every restaurant in the capital?" I kind of see her point: since Mary doesn't know how serious shit actually was between Edith and Michael, every time she wedges him into a conversation it's like that one friend of yours who can't shut up about the time she went to India like twenty years ago. WE GET IT, CHERYL, IT WAS REALLY SPIRITUAL. Tom tells Mary to pass along his best regards to "Evelyn, or whoever else might be there," at which Mary spontaneously invites Tom to come with her, and explicitly does not also extend the invitation to Edith, instead asking her if she can manage without them overnight. "I can manage without you for as long as you want," Edith drawls. Mary:

Once Mary's gone, Tom acts like a human and asks Edith if she wants to come too, but she sure doesn't: "And watch Mary flirt with her oily driver? No, thank you." I don't know, Edith. Every man Mary's ever talked to or fucking LOOKED at is still in love with her. You might learn something.

Polite Fight!

As Mary and Anna (and Tom) get in the car on their way to London, Bates thanks Mary for taking such good care of Anna and insists upon paying Dr. Ryder's bill. Mary briskly waves him off, telling him that Dr. Ryder was her idea, but he insists, and Mary says she doesn't want to fight about it...but in the car, when she privately says she's not going to let the office send Bates the bill, Tom tells her she must: "That's not kind. His pride is more important to him than the money." This doesn't come up again in this episode at all, so I'M ONLY LEAVING THIS HERE in case the doctor's bill turns out to be, like, Bates's entire life's savings or something and he has to walk back his nobility (for once) and Mary gets to be right in her generosity. But I suspect the purpose of this was so that Mary could learn, once more, that poors have integrity too -- not that she needed reminding that BATES HAS THE MOST INTEGRITY OF ALL.

Here's Your Hat, What's Your Hurry? But Seriously, Get Out.

Who called the meeting? Carson.

What's it about? Downsizing the house staff starting with Thomas, which Carson had previously discussed with Lord G, and which Mary's appeal to Lord G on Thomas's behalf on the basis that he's good with the kids has not delayed.

How'd it go? Does any meeting in which someone finds out he's getting fired ever go well? Carson, without much vigour, tells Thomas that he's not the only one who's going to get laid off. "But I am the first," Thomas surmises. Carson claims the issue is not that Carson has personal beef with Thomas and has for over a decade now, but that Thomas has risen to under-butler, "a post that is fragrant with memories of a lost world....You're not a creature of today." "And you are?" grits Thomas. OH SNAP. But Mrs. Hughes comes in before it goes any further than a warning that the end is nigh.

MaMA's The Word

Situation: The Dowager C has finally been invited to see Lord G, HER SON, after his fairly serious surgery. Naturally, the subject turns to the open house fundraiser.

What makes it awkward? The Dowager C wants to know what official role she should expect to play at this event -- and doesn't, for a second, doubt that she will have one, since she's the president of the hospital, the beneficiary of the fundraiser. So Lord G and Cora have to pretend they're giving her a break by not giving her a task, and not declining to do so because she's on her way out. Fortunately for Cora and Lord G, the Dowager C is so self-involved that she can't read the guilt screaming from their faces.

How is order restored? The Dowager C suspects nothing and leaves -- but not before saying "The patients are my priority. As president, I am their representative on earth!" so that we all know when the shit hits the fan she's going to make sure it gets EVERYWHERE.

Toff The Table

After testing Tom about what he knows about Marigold (apparently nothing, from what he gives her), Mary finds their table at Criterion.

Who's on a date? Mary and Tom Evelyn (remember THAT poor bastard? He thought he had a chance with Mary, LOL!) and a bunch of their rich single friends, including Henry, as surprised and delighted to see Mary as she had hoped he would be.

Where are they? At Criterion, WHERE EDITH AND MICHAEL USED TO GO ALL THE TIME. Don't worry: Edith's not there, even though she's also single and rich and titled and in London all the time, because no one wants to hang out with her.

Are things headed in a horizontal direction? They don't even really start out on an especially friendly note: when Mary comments that they're all somehow still single at their advanced ages (mid-thirties?), one of the other ladies refers to the women present as "war widows," at which Mary quickly replies, "I'm not a war widow." Way to get the evening off on a chill note, Mar! But then the conversation turns to talk of cars; this time, Tom is invited to drive at the track, and once again, I wonder if Tom's pushing so hard for Mary and Henry to get together so that Tom can position himself (hee hee) as Henry's side piece -- which, again, I would not object to one tiny bit.

FINALLY

After dinner, Tom has the grace to say he's going to take a cab back to Rosamund's, leaving Henry to walk Mary home alone. Hilariously, Evelyn actually looks dismayed when Mary says goodnight and makes to leave with Henry...

...as though Evelyn had ANY SHOT at starting anything up with her at this late date/while Henry still lives and has that face. Anyway, as they're wandering back, Henry comments that he hopes Mary will come back "south" with Tom when the two of them have their automotive play date, which cues Mary to make some EXTREMELY LONG OVERDUE announcements: "I don't know why I haven't told you before now" -- YEAH, ME NEITH -- "Matthew died in a car crash." FINALLLLLLLLLLLY. But Mary's silence on this point doesn't matter anyway, because it turns out Henry knew; Evelyn told him. But he'd still like her to come to the race: "The car is your enemy, but it's my friend, and all I ask is that you give it a second chance." Fortunately, before we can take too much time rolling our eyes at the smurfiness of that remark, it starts to rain, and when Henry leads Mary into a covered bit of alley...

...again I say: FINALLY. How anyone who looks like Matthew Goode even walks around without having people leap onto his face all day long is inconceivable to me. "Heavens, Mr. Talbot, is this part of your plan to convince me?" Mary coos. "Look, you don't have to if you don't want to," says Henry. "Plenty of drivers' wives never go near the race track!" "'Wives'!" gasps Mary, amused. And then, you guys, you know how we all thought Matthew Goode's sex appeal, on a scale of 1 to 10, was already like a 17? Brace yourselves.

[melts]

"I only meant that if we do get involved, it doesn't have to be part of the plan," says Henry, still chuckling at his slip. "It's not compulsory." "But you'd like me there to watch," Mary surmises. "Yes," says Henry, adding with a shrug, "but only so I can be near you." [melllllllllllts]

Mary says that "this is moving much faster than [she'd] imagined," which cues Henry to get a bit serious: "Look. I know I'm not what you're after. My prospects are modest at best, and you -- well, you're a great catch. But you're also a woman that I happen to be falling in love with." Mary:

Even when Henry's just declared himself, Mary can barely stop herself staring at his hot mouth, AND WHO CAN BLAME HER. "Gosh, that sounds rather feeble, doesn't it," sighs Henry. Mary goes a little too far denying it, but jokes, "As an argument, I find it rather compelling." "...Thank you," says Henry, because what else can an oily driver really say? And then Mary decides to break the spell, for now.

I never get tired of people saying it, even in jest, because MARY IS THE BOSS OF ALL Y'ALL. (Also: check her. She CANNOT keep her eyes off his mouth! Mary's lust, or Michelle Dockery's? Is there a difference? Need there be?!)

Bride Of Way-Too-Frankenstein

Do These Broads Even Know The Alamo Doesn't Have A Basement?!

What's the occasion? The Downton Abbey open house fundraiser is finally here!

How's it going? Terrible! People have been queuing for hours before the doors open. Apparently it also never occurred to anyone to organize any kind of program before Bertie, at dinner the night before, laid out a whole plan of attack on how to keep randos from wandering into forbidden areas and that maybe Cora, Mary, and Edith should lead smaller groups on a specific route through the house while offering interesting facts about what the patrons are looking at. Unfortunately, the house librarian is away, and the Crawley women know surprisingly little about the house that two out of three of them have lived in their entire lives, so when guests ask questions about the history of the house or the provenance of specific pieces of art, they're just like, "Dunno. MOVING ON." One might worry that the customers aren't getting their money's worth UNTIL...

Whose big public scene will everyone be talking about tomorrow? ...the Dowager C storms in and confronts Cora IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!!! She's just received the letter from York and demands to know whether Cora knew this decision had been made when the Dowager C was last at Downton. Cora tries to get the Dowager C to shut it until they're no longer standing in front of the whole village, but clearly the lady's not for turning, and takes Cora's silence as the admission it is: "And you let me babble on about my victory. Have you told Robert?!" Oh man, she thinks Lord G's not in on it already? So this is going to get worse before it gets better!

Mrs. Patmore, quick: pop some popcorn!!!

A gleeful Molesley's come downstairs to report the row to Baxter only to get hit in the face with a shock of his own: Baxter's had a letter from Peter Coyle! He wants her to come visit him in prison! Molesley tells her to throw it away! Sure, because the woman who can't stop saying she's kind of disappointed she didn't get to testify against him has obviously had all the closure she needs!

Upstairs, Lord G is getting it from both the Dowager C's barrels about Cora's "conniving" at the Dowager C's humiliation! Lord G defends Cora, and further tries to get the Dowager C to understand that the days of her automatically getting special treatment because of the accident of her birth (cough flower show cough) are over, and that despite her Chamberlain gambit, that was never going to go anywhere: "The truth is, Mama, officialdom doesn't care what we think anymore. Our influence is finished." Exhausted, he begs her to be logical about the fact that emergency services will still be available post-merger, but she's past it: "I am sick and tired of logic! If I could choose between principle and logic, I'd take principle every time!" Furthermore, she declares that she doesn't want to see Cora "until [she is] used to having a traitor in the family," and stomps off as fast as her elderly bones can carry her, which is...actually pretty fast.

And then an angelic little poor leans in: "Why is she in such a tizzy?" Lord G is more relaxed and warm with this kid than we've basically ever seen him be with his own grandchildren, sighing, "Well, you know mothers. They get terribly wrought up about things." This kid not only has no qualms about being on a floor he's not supposed to: he also doesn't scruple to opine about Lord G's crib, sniffing, "Why is it so big, your house?...Why not buy somewhere comfy? You must have enough money." "You like what you're used to," says Lord G wisely.

Just then, a hilariously scandalized Molesley enters to chase the kid out. Molesley tells Lord G he's going to go after the kid and turn out his pockets, but Lord G tells him not to bother: "He was more of a philosopher than a thief." Hee hee, it's true! And Lord G really has changed if he can appreciate that.

Mrs. Patmore's just finished announcing to Mrs. Hughes that the house she bought is ready to let -- her niece is going to run it -- when she decides the time is right to tell Carson what she thinks she witnessed in the hall between Andy and Thomas: "He's young, and you ought to know." Andy seems fine, but sure, Mrs. Patmore, assume Thomas is sexually harassing him. It's not enough to get me on Daisy's side against her, but right now Daisy and Patmore can both can go blow.

As the Dowager C is leaving, she runs into Lord Merton and this Miss Cruikshank, who apparently is insisting to everyone she meets that Larry is not Isobel's enemy. "He gives a marvelous impression of it!" burbles the Dowager C. Seriously, no one cares about Lord Merton and Isobel, right? Isobel and Clarkson is the OTP!

Cora rushes out to try to talk to the Dowager C. SHE IS REBUFFED.

Carson kicks out Molesley and Baxter (good, they can discuss this stupid Peter Coyle letter somewhere off-camera) so that Carson can report to Thomas what he heard from Mrs. Patmore and what he witnessed himself, in the process calling Andy "a vulnerable young man," which, like, I know he can't read, but he's hardly Tim. To his credit, Thomas doesn't try to explain and/or escape his current predicament by diming out Andy for his illiteracy.

Poor Thomas! Even when he's being honourable, he can't catch a break!

After everyone's left the open house, the Crawleys have a post-mortem about it. Apparently they raised a fuck-ton of money, and Tom wonders if they shouldn't keep the house open for tours all the time (though, presumably, tours conducted by people who know what the hell they're talking about), since people are obviously interested in looking around grand old homes and the family shouldn't ignore a potential source of considerable income. Edith thinks it sad that people are interested in the house since it means their way of life is strange enough to warrant buying a ticket to look at it, like a museum exhibit or "a fat lady in the circus," to which Mary sneers, "Trust you to cast a pall of doom over our successful day." Lord G tells them about his new young friend's suggestion that the Crawleys consider a spin on Tiny House Nation (I'm paraphrasing), wistfully adding, "I suppose we all realize it may not last forever." But Mary will not entertain that kind of talk for a second: "I refuse to listen. Downton Abbey is where the Crawleys belong." "I hope we'll stay as long as we can," says Cora, "but I suppose we all realize it may not last forever." "This is weakling talk!" scoffs Mary. "Thankfully, George and I are made of sterner stuff than the rest of you." "That, I'm sure, is quite true," says Tom, and of course, he's right. Plus Mary will probably end up being able to hang on to the joint for at least three more episodes!

But will everyone who's been here from the start make it to the end? How many piggybacks does a brother have to give, or ladies of the house save, or dogs hide and then miraculously "find," to be considered trustworthy?!