Mr Carson handed out the morning post at the servants' breakfast, as usual. Mr Bates had a letter from an address in Dublin. He put it into the inside pocket of his jacket with a look of trepidation on his face.

"Ooh, from my mum!" said Anna, smiling and putting her letter into the pocket of her apron. "I'll look forward to reading that."

"News from home?" said William. "That's nice." But he didn't entirely look as if he thought it was.

...

"Is there any news from Matthew, Cousin Isobel?" asked Lady Grantham as she helped herself to a piece of sponge cake from William's tea tray.

"Not recently, no," Isobel replied. "I heard from him every week at the start, but in his last letter he said something like, 'The training is dragging on a bit now, so I haven't any news.'"

The Dowager Countess gave a loud but not entirely genuine laugh. "Dragging on! Oh dear."

"He must be anxious to get to the Front," said Lady Grantham.

"Yes," said Isobel, dropping the countess's gaze instantly.

Mary looked away.

...

"Mabel!" called Mrs Hughes to the maid at the top of the servants' staircase. "Have you seen Anna anywhere?"

"No, Mrs Hughes."

"Oh well, I guess I'll do the linen order later, then. Mrs Patmore?" Mrs Hughes strode towards the kitchen. "Are you free to go over the food order with me now?"

"I wish you'd just let me do it myself," said the cook, appearing at the kitchen door with a frown on her face.

"I'll let you help me, Mrs Patmore," said the housekeeper sternly. "Like I let Anna help me with the linen order."

"The head housemaid should make the linen order and the cook should make the food order – you're only making more work for yourself!"

...

"I wonder what else we can do to help," said Sybil as she and Edith climbed into the car outside the hospital.

"Don't ask me," said her sister. "I only came because Cousin Isobel insisted."

"That's more than Mary managed."

"I don't see how we can arrange a fundraising party. Mama usually does that kind of thing."

"Then we'll ask Mama how. Maybe we can make it a regular thing, once every two months or something. What do you think, Branson?"

"I think it's a nice idea, my lady," said the chauffeur, "But it'll take a lot more than a fundraiser to stop the suffering across Europe."

"There, you see?" said Lady Edith. "It's not as if we can actually do anything."

"On the contrary," said Lady Sybil. "If everybody thought that, the whole war would stand still and the poor wounded soldiers would never be cared for, but if we all do our bit, we can really make a difference."

The chauffeur smiled.

...

"Have you seen Anna?" said Miss O'Brien to William as she entered the servants' hall carrying a blue dress. "She's not in any of the bedrooms, she's completely disappeared!"

"No, sorry," William replied.

"Have you seen Anna, Mrs Hughes?" asked Miss O'Brien, stepping back into the corridor to catch the passing housekeeper. "Her ladyship wants to give this dress to Lady Sybil. Apparently his lordship's had quite enough of her wearing that callottey thing, and about time too."

"Is Anna still not back?" asked Mrs Hughes.

"Back? Back from where?"

"Nowhere, I don't know, I haven't seen her since lunch."

"That's not like Anna," said Mr Bates, rising from his chair.

"Well I do hope she hasn't gone to the moon," said Miss O'Brien. "Because I certainly won't be re-fitting this dress."

"Has anyone else seen her?" asked Mr Bates, looking at the handful of other maids and footmen in the room. There were a few shaking heads and shrugging shoulders, but nobody said anything.

"Excuse me," said Daisy, peering between Miss O'Brien and Mrs Hughes and into the room. "Oh, there it is," she said, moving to collect a small pot from the centre of the table.

"Would you mind having a look for her, Mr Bates?" asked Mrs Hughes. "I can't spare any time myself, I'm afraid. If she's not upstairs…could she have gone to the village?"

"Who are you looking for?" asked Daisy, pausing at the door.

"Anna," William explained.

"Oh, she went out," said Daisy.

"Out?" Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrows. "Out where?"

"I dunno, she just ran out of the house a little while ago."

"When?"

"Just after lunch. She was reading that letter from her mum while she finished her cup of tea, and then she just ran out."

"Oh dear," said Mrs Hughes.

"Perhaps she's had bad news," said Mr Bates.

"It sounds like it," said the housekeeper. "Daisy, why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

"I'll find her," said Mr Bates, and he left without another word.

"Oh my, such drama," sighed Miss O'Brien, the dress crumpling on her lap as she sank into a chair.

...

He tried the courtyard first, and then the rose garden. It was winter, but Anna had once told him that she liked the shapes of plants almost as much as their leaves and flowers. She could find something positive to say about even the harshest winter landscape.

John's knee began to hurt as he sped up, heading towards the temple. Then he remembered something Anna had once said about the soothing sight and sound of water.

Turning around, John hurried towards the lake.

...

"Can I leave this dress with you?" asked Miss O'Brien, poking her head into Mrs Hughes' office.

The housekeeper's eyebrows rose again. "Why?"

"Because Anna doesn't have a sitting room."

"Oh I suppose so." Mrs Hughes looked back down at her order book.

"I don't know why you sent him after her. Now they'll both be gone for hours."

The housekeepers' head snapped up again. "What are you suggesting, Miss O'Brien?"

"Oh, nothing. Only that she won't be able to hurry back if she has to walk with him."

...

He finally saw her, sitting on a bench beside the lake. She was hunched forward slightly, and he could see the open letter in her hands, but she wasn't looking at it. She was gazing at the lake. He walked towards her.

She saw him when he was about ten metres away, and she jumped and began folding the letter and wiping her eyes.

"No no, as you were," he said. "It's alright."

"Oh no, how long have I been away? Are they wondering where I am?"

"It's fine."

"I didn't mean to be away this long!" Anna jumped up. "What time is it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, I'm meant to be at work!"

"You work hard enough the rest of the time. Let's sit down." John sat down on the bench, and looked up at Anna.

"They don't know where I am, though."

"Mrs Hughes has sent me to look for you. In time, I will bring you back, but first you have to tell me what's wrong."

The letter was still in Anna's hands. She looked down and put it back in its envelope. "Worst letter of my life," she said.

John simply looked at her, his face etched with concern. She sat down beside him.

"My younger brother…has been killed," she said.

John shook his head, looked at the ground, then back at her.

"He was 18." Anna bit her lip.

"Oh, Anna. I'm so sorry."

"So Mum wrote me this letter asking me to come home for the wake – they can't have a funeral because he fell on some battlefield somewhere and they can't…" Her voice wavered, but she continued. "She wrote me the letter, and it's covered in her tears. And mine now, I suppose." She looked away.

"There's nothing worse for any mother." John put his hand on hers, and she gripped it. "Or any sister."

"Yeah, well, it's not like it's anything new. My sister Myrtle died of consumption when she was 12, Daniel was cot death, Cousin Bertie had polio… My mum's been pregnant at least 10 times, but she's only got five children… Four now."

"That won't diminish your pain, or the tragedy of this. No young person should die. Particularly not when it can be prevented."

"This war has been going for less than six months, and already so many people have been killed. I knew that, I mean, I know war…does that, it's just… Somehow you always expect it'll happen to somebody else."

John stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "Does your mother give any more information about it?"

"Just that he was in Flanders. Which is where my other brother Alan is too. He and Mark signed up at the same time – they're in the same regiment, I think, but not the same battalion. Still, if they were in the same place, then…"

"If anything had happened to Alan, your mother would have received a telegram."

Anna nodded. "I'm worried sick about him now, though."

"Of course."

"Alan's…and the rest of them - I'm the second eldest, he's the third, and we all grew up together, you know, but Mark…Mark was the baby. I was there when he said his first word, I took him to school, I…" Anna's voice cracked. "He was my little brother, and he…"

She broke down, and John wrapped his arms around her, drawing her head into his shoulder. She sobbed, and he held her.