Beryl and Elsie continued to ponder the current challenge on the walk back to the Carsons' cottage. Elsie's favourite fundraising idea was collecting an array of sewing, knitting, quilting and needlepoint work, reasoning that they were dying arts. Beryl agreed they were dying – but too many pieces would be required, how would they ever collect enough to be the substantive fundraiser the hospital needed?

Beryl's idea was close to her own heart as well – a bake sale. Whilst Elsie agreed that baked goods were a common interest among many, she voiced her concern about freshness and people's growing mindful of too many sweets. The two laughed as they approached the cottage, not either of their men, of course!

"Beryl, it's a little early for tea, but won't you come in and have a cuppa? It might help us find a solution and we need to."

"Thank you. Is Mr. Carson home from Ripon?"

"I don't know for certain, but we'll soon find out," Elsie said as she unlocked the front door of her and Charles' cozy home. "Aye, he issei's," Elsie noted as she pointed to his bowler hanging on the coat tree inside their front door.

"Charlie?" Elsie called out once inside the threshold. Receiving no reply, she first took off her hat, before hanging it and Beryl's as well. "Well, he's either gardening or upstairs."

"Oooh, Mr. Carson's garden. I'm anxious to see what he's planted for you this year."

"Ach, it's no secret. We can take a peek. Ah, upstairs he is!" Elsie noted at the faint sound of water flowing in their upstairs pipes. "I'm going to let him know we're home, and change my shoes."

"Would you like me to put the kettle on the hob?"

"You're a dear, Beryl. Yes, please."

As Elsie disappeared, Beryl made her way to the Carsons' modest kitchen. While the kitchen in the farmhouse at Yew Tree was far from what she'd commanded at Downton, she could never survive with as simple provisioning as her friend made do with here.

Beryl set three place settings on the table and plated a few biscuits from one of the tins she gladly kept refilling for her friends. With nothing to do but wait for the water to boil, Beryl decided there would be no harm in stepping out to see the garden's latest plantings and new growth. She was stepping back in the Carson's kitchen door when Elsie reappeared. "Charlie's just taken a bath to rinse more of the chlorine smell off himself. He'll join us when he's able. You looked at the garden. What do you think?"

Beryl started chuckling. "I think we ought to consider a garden walk for the hospital fundraiser. You could have quite a queue to get in here alone."

"Ach, Beryl, I know it's a nice garden, but what Charlie's planted and how he's planted are not exceptional, let alone worthy of a paid admission."

"Oh, it's not the plants that people would pay for."

"I'm not following, Beryl. What are you suggesting?"

"I'll show you what I mean. Come, step to the window with me." Elsie did as she was asked at which point Beryl pointed to the outdoors beyond. "That's what I mean!" Beryl doubled over now as Elsie took in the sight of her husband's navy coloured trunks hanging, right as rain, from two clothespins beside his towel on the wash line.

"Oh Beryl, stop it!"

Slowly, and with difficulty, Beryl's laughs receded. As she stood up, blinking, Beryl continued, "Probably a few Quid per head we could git with them!"

"Beryl Patmore, enough!"

Wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, "Oh gosh, I haven't laughed this hard since I don't know when."

"And you best stop laughing by the time Charlie comes down here!" Beryl caught the glare of the Scottish Dragon and knew she best comply. And yet, teasing him was so tempting!

When Mr. Carson descended the stairs after his bath, his trousers were paired with a freshly starched shirt, wet hair slicked back with pomade and he smelled of sandalwood and citrus. Above all, he was overly ready for the treacle tart Elsie had told him about, Beryl having carried it from her bed and breakfast this morning and all throughout the day.

With it being such a beautiful day, Elsie asked Charles to open the windows for them. As they sat and ate, a soft breeze from outside billowed the lace curtains yet Charles was none the wiser to the hysterics of minutes before. Elsie and Beryl told Charles about the fundraising challenge and the plan to regroup with Mrs. Clarkson.

Changing the subject then, Beryl asked more than stated, "So I understand you went to Ripon to swim in the lido." Elsie stiffened. Charles was cutting through his slice of tart with his fork and nodded before wiping his mouth.

"I did."

"What, the water hole not good enough for ye?"

"I'm perfectly fine swimming in the water hole. I just knew my wife to be otherwise engaged this afternoon and she doesn't approve of me swimming alone."

"And, they have one of those Jacuzzis at the lido which is good for his tremors," Elsie added, reaching over to clutch his offending hand. Charles smiled back at her.

"Well, Albert goes to the water hole on occasion. You two might go together next time."

Charles considered the suggestion. "No offense, Mrs. Patmore, but I kind of like swimming with my wife at the water hole," he waggled his eyebrows at Elsie before closing his lips around a last bite of tart and chewed, a broad smile on his face.

Beryl looked down at her watch then realizing it was later than she thought. She made her way to get up, "Yes, well, I'm going to leave you two to do whatever it is you do here all day – when you aren't swimming. I dropped some food off to Yew Tree Farm earlier and I best be headed there now to finish preparations for Mr. Mason's supper."