Here's a little something I cooked up on a whim. Hope you enjoy.
Elsie was working at her desk when she heard a soft knock on her door. She turned to find little Sybil standing there, waiting to be invited in. The seven-year-old fidgeted, dancing from one foot to the other, her hands hidden behind her back.
"Well, hello, Lady Sybil!" she greeted her visitor. "Won't you come in? Is everything all right?" She knew the girl sometimes came to her sitting room when she was upset about something.
Sybil took a few steps inside. "I've brought you something, Mrs. Hughes," she said with a little secret smile.
"You've brought me something? Well that's very sweet of you." She got up from her desk and gestured toward the settee. "Why don't we sit down together and you can show me what it is?"
Sybil's smile grew and she nodded enthusiastically. "You sit down first, Mrs. Hughes."
Elsie was curious, but she complied with the girl's request and then patted the seat beside her on the settee, smiling encouragingly at Sybil. Once she was seated, Sybil rushed over to her and thrust into her hands a single yellow rose before scrambling up into her seat on the settee and hugging Elsie around the middle.
Elsie's mouth opened in surprise and then her lips curved into smile. She rested her arm around Sybil's shoulder. "Thank you, Lady Sybil. This is very pretty." She suspected it had been taken from one of the arrangements in the drawing room, for she could see that all of the thorns had been removed.
"It's from the garden," Sybil answered. "I asked the gardener for one so I could give it to you, and he cut off all the thorns so you wouldn't hurt your fingers." She looked up at Elsie, her eyes shining. "Wasn't that nice of him?"
Elsie smiled and hugged the girl to her. "Yes, very nice. But what's brought this on, Lady Sybil? It's not my birthday."
Sybil turned a little shy now, burying her face under Elsie's arm. She said something into Elsie's side, which the housekeeper could not understand.
"I can't understand you when you speak into my dress like that, dear," she said.
Sybil raised her head. "It's for always being nice to me when I'm sad," she answered softly.
"I hope you're not feeling sad today, little one."
"No, I'm happy. But someone else was sad today."
Elsie frowned. "Someone else?"
Sybil nodded. "This morning. A servant. He was sad and I saw you talk to him and then he smiled, so I know you made him feel better."
Elsie smiled. Sybil must have seen her speaking to the new second footman, John, who was feeling a bit overwhelmed by his new position and the large house.
"But then Carson came and told him to get back to work right away so he didn't have time to say thank you for making him feel better." Elsie didn't know what to say. The girl continued. "At first I thought Carson was going to be angry at you, too, but he wasn't."
Elsie bit her lip to suppress a little laugh. Mr. Carson had looked like he might scold her, might say she was coddling his footman, but then he'd just smiled and walked away.
"So I brought you the flower to say thank you for always being nice to me when I'm sad, and for being nice to that footman this morning."
"Well, thank you for the flower. You can come to my sitting room anytime you like if it makes you feel better when you're sad."
"Not anytime, Mrs. Hughes. Sometimes you're not here and then I have to come back later."
"I'm sure you could speak to Mr. Carson if I'm not here when you come downstairs, Lady Sybil," Elsie suggested. "He's very good at drying little girls' tears when they are sad." She dropped her voice to a whisper, as though imparting a great secret. "And sometimes he even has candy in his pocket."
"No, I couldn't speak to Carson," Sybil said, shaking her head vehemently. "Carson belongs to Mary."
Elsie couldn't help laughing. "And I suppose I belong to you?"
"No," Sybil said thoughtfully. "You belong to everyone."
"Do I?" Elsie asked, looking down into the girl's serious blue eyes. They were so youthful and innocent, but somehow very wise at the same time.
"Yes. You help everyone when they are sad, Mrs. Hughes. You are like the nicest nanny in the world, but not just for children! Even the gardener said you were kind to him always, and he's almost as old as Granny!" Once again, Elsie was speechless, but she didn't need to say anything. Her small companion talked enough for both of them. "But who makes you feel better when you are sad?" Sybil asked, concerned.
Elsie had teared up a little at the girl's sweet words, but she smiled and said, "I'm almost never sad, but when I am there are people here who help me."
"Are you sad now? You have tears in your eyes!"
"No, I'm very happy right now. I think some dust got into my eyes."
Sybil was not quite old enough to understand tears that weren't caused by sadness, and just young enough to accept Elsie's explanation. "Good," she said, with a firm nod and a smile. "I have to go now, Mrs. Hughes."
"Be off with you, then," Elsie said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before letting her go. "You're a good girl."
Sybil slid down from the settee and bounced away. She stopped in the doorway, though, and turned back to Elsie. "When I'm grown up I want to be like you, Mrs. Hughes," she said. "I want to make everyone feel better when they are sad." And then she turned and was gone.
Elsie smiled at the empty doorway and listened to Sybil's quick step on the stairs. She knew that girl was special, and had no doubt she would do exactly as she said. No one could stay sad for long in Lady Sybil Crawley's presence.
The End.