Mary spoke first.
Robert and Cora weren't surprised by this, of course. Whenever they shared news, thoughts or concerns with their three daughters Mary was almost always the first one to speak up. Though she heard Mary's voice ring out of the silence that had fallen between them when Robert had told them about Amelia, Cora had looked instead at Sybil. As the girls had grown up, Mary had routinely felt slighted because she was the oldest, though, she usually unleashed her furies upon Edith. Though Edith had grown accustomed to taking the brunt of Mary's edge, she managed to keep a level head about most troubles that had befallen the Crawley's in years past. Sybil, the baby of the family, was less predictable than her two older sisters. Cora found herself most interested in how she would react to the news that they wanted to take in a young charge.
"Papa, you know absolutely nothing about this girl - and very little about this man, Mr. Brody. Don't you think it odd that he regarded you with so much affection when, in your mind, he was no more than a casual correspondence?"
Mary had already set about bemoaning the prospect with her natural skepticism. Edith, who had cocked her head curiously at the suggestion looked to be forming a supportive argument. Sybil, however, did or said nothing. Cora wasn't even sure she had taken a breath.
"Now Mary, I would appreciate if you focused less on the nature of my relationship with Mr. Brody and thought in broader terms about the well-being of his young child, as this is the true matter at hand that we need to consider." Robert said, offering the letter and photograph to Mary for inspection. She took it, begrudgingly, and Edith leaned over to inspect it as well. While they were sufficiently occupied, Cora leaned forward to further inspect Sybil, whose face had fallen.
"My darling, you haven't made a peep. What do you think?" she cooed, reaching a hand across to take Sybil's. Meeting her mother's gaze, she blinked away the dampness that had come into her eyes.
"Mama, it's all terribly sad. That poor girl."
Cora nodded, moved by her daughter's sweetness. At times, Sybil's ideas about her life and, really, the lives of everyone could overwhelm Cora - who, though far more liberal than her English counterpart was still deeply rooted in the tradition of Downton- but Sybil's empathy and sense of purpose found in other's pain made her heart fill with pride.
"I think we have to take her in," Sybil sniffled, "I don't want her to go to an orphanage!"
Mary scoffed, "Sybil, you are at times insufferably sensitive. For all we know this child is perfectly bratty and, if she's anything like her father, entitled."
Robert smacked his hand loudly against the arm of his chair, "Mary, that is enough!"
Cora jumped at the sound of Robert's raised voice, bringing a hand to her chest. He turned away from the girls and looked at Cora, his face softening.
"John was a very good man. He served his country selflessly, made an honest wage and supported his family. It doesn't matter to me whether he was an Earl or no more than a cobbler - his values are quite in line with my own." he turned back to the girl's, particularly Mary, "I would hope that your Mama and I have instilled in you girls a sense of humility when it comes to helping others." he looked over at Sybil, who had begun to fully cry, the intensity of the previous moment having rocked her. "Sybil, it would appear, has more heart than any of us."
He snatched the letter and photograph from Mary's hands and rose, crossing the room to his desk where he took a seat. "Mary, sometimes I wonder what has made you so cold."
Remaining firm in her convictions, Mary lowered her gaze. Cora exhaled slowly and turned to Edith, who still had not spoken.
"Edith, what do you think?" she ventured, her voice low.
"Honestly, Mama - not to give Mary any undue satisfaction, but I tend to lean toward her skepticism of Mr. Brody. I think we ought to at least inquire further into the situation before we decide." she looked up beyond Cora to her father, who appeared to be listening but refused to look at the girls. "Papa, I don't see the harm in bringing her here. It would give us all a chance to become a bit more educated before we pass judgment." she turned purposefully to Mary who rolled her eyes in response- but did appear to be considering her sister's words.
Cora looked at her daughters - Mary, whose dark gaze had begun to soften at the edges of her face, as though perhaps she did feel a bit of remorse about her coolness even if she wouldn't give them all the satisfaction of admitting to it. Edith, whose face was open, level and willing. And Sybil, whose love for all creatures great and small poured out of her without abandon. After a moment, Cora rose and went to Robert, standing behind him at the desk and placing a hand upon his shoulder.
"Robert? Will you? Will you write to the lawyer and have him bring the girl?"
Looking at his daughters, then panning his gaze up to Cora, he nodded definitively, reaching a hand across his body and up to her hand, bringing it down into his lap.
"Yes, I'll write him this afternoon."
From across the room, Sybil's sniffles had begun to subside, though she did squeak out a small mew of relief. Edith, seemingly pleased at her ability to be a mediator, contentedly sipped her tea.
And Mary, her eyes still narrowed, sat motionless and deep in sighed, regarding Mary with the same distant fascination as she had since she was a child, as small as Amelia perhaps. It wasn't that Mary was cold-hearted, though she hardly expected Robert to understand. Mary was not cold, just deeply loyal- something Cora took pleasure in realizing had come straight down the Crawley line from Robert to his eldest daughter.
Robert's inability to see it in her was no different than his inability to see it in himself.