I Don't Understand You

Summary: Elsie confuses Charles when she helps Grigg out of the workhouse. Perhaps, there is more to the story and her motives.

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Charles: Charlie Grigg is going to stay with Mrs. Crawley?

Elsie: The authorities have released him into our charge. I'm collecting him on Friday.

Charles: But why has she agreed to this?

Elsie: Because she's a kind woman, and he's a man in need.

Charles: I cannot believe that you're imposing on Mrs. Crawley at a time like this when she's almost broken by grief.

Elsie: It's because of her grief I'm imposing.

Charles: I don't understand you.

Elsie: No, you wouldn't.

Season 04 episode 01

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As she slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom, her heart ached. She had not left him a note on his desk nor indicated in any way that she would not be joining him for their nightly glass of wine. She simply tidied the books on her desk, turned off the light, and closed the door to her sitting room. Part of her was angry at Charles Carson for not caring more about his friend, especially since she had explained his living conditions and his state of health. Then again, she knew there must be more to the story than he was willing to share, and that was certainly something she could understand.

His words kept haunting her. "I don't understand you." At the time, he had managed to catch her off guard with his remark. It was not something she ever thought he would admit, though she could recall a number of times when it certainly felt like he was trying to make sense of her moods, her comments, her actions. Part of her was to blame for keeping him in the dark, especially with her cancer scare. But, she had her reasons, and she assumed he had his, too, about Mr. Grigg, though his circumstances were much worse.

As she slipped her nightgown over her head and crawled into bed, Elsie swore she could still smell the moldy air, the staleness, the mingled odors of sweat and unsanitary conditions. Even after her rather warm bath and lavender soap, she felt the workhouse was still clinging to her skin, like a reminder … or a warning, perhaps.

Images of Becky began to float through her mind. Her darling younger sister was always near in her heart and thoughts. Everything Elsie Hughes did, she did so carefully with the knowledge that it could have a serious impact on her life and the life of her sister. Becky thrived at the home where she was living now. She had friends, wonderful nurses and doctors, lush green fields and flower gardens to explore, outings into the nearby village, almost everything she could want. And it was taking almost all of Elsie's money to see that she retained that level of care, that stability and happiness, though it was a sacrifice she willingly made. She was family, the only family Elsie had left, and it was her privilege and duty to take care of Becky. She smiled as she recalled their younger, happier days when their parents were alive, family picnics, chilly winter nights curled up in front of the fire while Da read them a story.

And then their father had died. It had taken a toll on their mother and Becky. While she had felt the deep sadness at losing her father, Elsie had already moved away from home, started her own life. She knew both of her parents were proud of their lass, and her mother had encouraged her to stick with it, never give up. She assured her that they would be fine back on the farm. The local farmers had offered to give them a hand, and she had money put aside for the winter.

It was then that Elsie started sending a little money home to help with the running of the farm or to buy cloth for a new dress for her mother or Becky. It wasn't much but she had very little to buy for herself since most things were provided for her in service, and it was nice to read letters from home telling her how happy Becky was to get the material or perhaps a new doll with the leftover money.

But, that happiness was not to last. Their mother had fallen ill. Becky had not understood the seriousness of her illness, and fortunately a friend from the village stopped by the house and found Mrs. Hughes in bed with a high fever, Becky sitting silently by her mother's side. The doctor was called but it was too late. Mrs. Whittaker, being the kind and compassionate woman that she was, took Becky home with her and cared for her until Elsie could make arrangements to return home.

That was the beginning of her worries, her struggles, and even her dreams. Even with the sale of the farm and the accompanying land, Elsie would only be able to live off that income for a few years, at best if she saved every penny and lived a very meager life. And that, she reasoned, was only if nothing unexpected happened that could potentially drain their finances. That was when Elsie Hughes began exploring other living arrangements for Becky, a place she could call home, would be loved and safe. The alternative was bleak and no life for either of the Hughes girls.

Elsie had always loved to read, something she inherited from her father. So, she was not unfamiliar with the way the world worked. If you have money, you have an easier road to travel. If you lack means to support yourself, there were places you were sent, horrible places filled with disease, sadness, darkness, and a hopelessness that would be hard to shake once it invaded your soul. Those were things she never wanted to experience firsthand, for herself or for Becky. So, her choice had been made. She would seek employment in a larger house, one that might pay a little higher wage and perhaps had room for advancement.

She was lucky when she stumbled across the ad for a housemaid at Downton Abbey. It would mean moving farther away from her sister, her old life, but it also offered the future she needed, not only for herself but for Becky.

Looking back on that fateful day when she applied for the position, Elsie had to smile. That one act of faith born out of sisterly love and need had brought her here, to Downton, to this caring family, and this man called Charles Carson.

They had provided well for her which, in turn, allowed Becky to have everything she needed for a happy life. Elsie, on the rare occasion, was even able to take a little of her saved money for herself, though she was always mindful of the amount, never wanting to overspend. Her employers had proven very fair, even going so far as to offering to care for Elsie when she was at her lowest, fearing for her own life and the future of her sister. They had no way of knowing just how terrified she had been of being diagnosed with cancer, a death sentence for herself and her sister by extension.

And now, having seen the workhouse first hand, she shuddered with a chill that went straight to her bones and invaded her heart. That, but for the grace of God and her hard work, could have been the Hughes sisters. Seeing the conditions first hand had reminded her of how lucky she had been in life and how much harder she must work to maintain her position for as long as possible. There would be no retirement for her. Even if her sister passed before her, she would still need to be extra careful with her money. She assumed she would be offered a cottage on the estate, a small pittance upon which she could live, but there was always a bit of uncertainty in the world.

I don't understand you.

No, you wouldn't.

Perhaps, one day, Elsie might be brave enough to make him understand. She might trust him enough to confide in him about her lovely sister, her last living relative, the reason she worked so hard. With that knowledge, maybe he would understand why she tried so hard to help Ethel when she was down on her luck, had fed her from the kitchens at the risk of losing her own position. She didn't want the young girl to end up in the workhouse, though by some accounts she had ended up far worse. By telling him things she'd shared with no other, he might understand why it pained her so much to see Grigg in the workhouse and the cavalier way Charles dismissed his old chum. Would Charles Carson treat her as he had treated his old mate? She knew, in her heart of hearts, that he could never be so cold to her, so unfeeling and unmoved to help her. But she did not want his pity nor his charity. With him, she wanted so much more, something which seemed to be so far out of her grasp. She closed her eyes and tried to think of those happier dreams instead of the harsh realities she'd witnessed recently.

"There, but for the Grace of God, go I," she whispered softly in the cool night air.

The End.

A/N: Those lines always seemed to unsettle me. He didn't understand she she accepted that fact. With the revelation of Becky in Series 5 and her confession that they, too, could be paupers living on a pittance, or worse, in the workhouse, I think now I understand the dialogue above … and so the Charles we see towards the end of Series 5.