Dread followed Mr. Carson on all his morning rounds. The last time he'd taken the girls cycling, it had taken three weeks to repair the damage to his clothing. The shoes he had worn were now relegated to 'emergency only' status as he had been unable to polish the tread marks out of them to his liking. Both Mrs. Pearson and Mrs. Hughes told him it was unnoticeable, but he had seen the damage and could not unsee it.

He was wearing these 'emergency only' shoes today, in anticipation of the cycling outing. No doubt the girls were much more accomplished than before, but he knew they had not been allowed back to the big hill by the lake since that first day. He suspected the whole reason he was wanted was so they could return there to test their much improved riding skills. Lady Sybil had graduated to a bike with pedals while the family was in London, but she was still a little vague on the business of stopping. Thankfully, most of the parks in London were remarkably flat. Carson knew he was going to have his hands full keeping her out of the lake. He wondered absently if he could attach some sort of floatation device onto her or the bike. Maybe he could convince them to stop by the boat house on their way to the hill. Without Patrick to goad her, Carson might be able to appeal to Lady Mary's good sense.

Lady Grantham had taken breakfast in bed and the girls had eaten in the nursery with Fraulein Kelda. The bicycles were waiting around the front of the house where the hall boys had taken them first thing this morning. The girls were to ring for him when they were ready. Their hour begins the second that bell rings, he pledged, looking at his watch. Mr. Carson stood in the servant's hall staring at the bell for the drawing room. He looked like a man standing before a firing squad. Mrs. Hughes was sitting comfortably in her chair at the main table, ostensibly mending a pillow case. She wanted to tease him by offering him a blindfold and a cigarette, but he was clearly not in the mood to jest.

Finally, the tiny bell jumped and jangled.

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls…" he grumbled as he turned towards the stairs. He walked up them as though they led to the gallows.

She wanted to say something encouraging but all she could think to say was, "No man is an island, Mr. Carson." She waited until he was up the stairs and then hurried out the backdoor. She was NOT going to miss this!

The drawing room was empty when Mr. Carson arrived. He could hear their excited chatter outside already. When he reached the front door, he took a deep breath to collect himself before pulling it open.

"SURPRISE!" The three voices called loudly, almost simultaneously. The girls were holding up an adult sized bicycle with a great bow on it. Lady Grantham was there as well. He was flummoxed. "Are you planning on riding as well, My Lady?"

She laughed lightly and shook her head as the Edith and Sybil ran forward to grab Mr. Carson's hands. Lady Mary held the bicycle for him. Instinctively, he took the handlebars. The truth finally hit him like a ton of bricks. This bicycle was for him.

He'd never been given anything but books or clothing by the family; certainly nothing as frivolous as a bicycle. Then he realized with terror that he was expected to ride this bicycle...today.

He looked imploringly at Lady Grantham. "Oh, no, My Lady. This is not a wise thing." He had never ridden a bicycle before. He was wary of anything that involved momentum. Also, he had an absurd idea that no bicycle could hold him.

When he was only eight years old, his grandfather, who was still head groomsman at that point, had told him very seriously, "My boy, you are too large for a pony and too young for a horse. By the time you are old enough for a horse, I shouldn't be surprised if you are too big for that as well." Perhaps this last part had not been meant seriously, but it had been taken as such.

"The girls planned all of this themselves, Mr. Carson. They chose the bicycle when we were shopping for Sybil's new bicycle. They even arranged to have it shipped back to Downton before we all returned." Lady Grantham was very proud of them.

"Mrs. Hughes hid it for us." Edith offered proudly.

"And added the bow," Sybil said happily.

"And packed us lunch for today," Mary concluded, motioning to the basket on her own bicycle.

He looked towards the side of the house, where he knew she would be standing. And here he was thinking she was on his side. He shook his head at her to show how very much he felt this betrayal. The smile on her face made it difficult for him to be too angry. He rolled his eyes. He would deal with her later.

Turning back to the dilemma directly before him, he made one last appeal to Her Ladyship's maternal instinct. "I shall crush them if I fall, My Lady."

"Then I believe I can trust you not to fall, Mr. Carson. And Carson, take the whole day off." Lady Cora could barely stifle her laughter.

The girls were all on their own bicycles by now. Sybil was still shaky, but getting stronger with every stroke of the pedal. They buzzed around waiting for him to mount up.

Obediently, Charles Carson straddled the bicycle. He sat on the seat and tested the strength of the frame by taking first one foot and then the other off the gravel drive. He balanced for a moment and started to trust the craftsmanship of the bicycle before placing one foot back on the ground.

Encouraged by this, the girls started pedaling off towards the lake. Mr. Carson started after them, walking the bike underneath him until he had enough speed to begin pedaling. The bow on the handlebars flapped weakly in front of him. He was not a natural, but it could have been worse. His steering was erratic, but it was improving and there was nothing for him to run into, yet.

Carson thought of the hill by the lake. He wondered how he could possibly be expected to stop at the bottom of it. He wondered how Lady Sybil was going to stop at the bottom of it without him there to catch her. This thought made him pedal faster.

"I do not think this is a very good idea." He called after the girls as he followed them; trying to catch up with them. Like Lady Sybil, he gained speed and confidence with every pump of the pedal.

They were gone all day. None of the four could ever be brought to talk about that day except to say it was one of the most perfect days of their lives. They were not sworn to secrecy, it was just a memory they each wanted instinctively to keep for themselves. Mr. Carson's 'emergency only' shoes were never seen again.

Many years later, in a small Dublin apartment, after hanging her little bicycle on their little tree, Sybil did admit to Tom that it was on that day she had learned to swim.

CE-

December, 1921.

"Higher."

Charles Carson lifted Sybbie up as high on the tree as he could. She hung the little copper bicycle on an empty branch so that an electric light shone behind it, catching the silver inlay which read "Sybil". Just below it, there already hung an almost identical ornament with heart shaped wheels.

Indeed, there are all kinds of families. Elsie thought as she watched her man with little Sybbie.

Elsie smiled at Tom who stood across the room obviously enjoying the scene as much as she. She knew that Sybil had taken that ornament with her to Ireland. What emotions must be battling in his heart right now? Was he remembering their only Christmas together as man and wife? Elsie imagined so.

Lady Sybil had left the ornament behind her in Dublin with the rest of her possessions when she and Tom had fled. A cousin of his had packed up their belongings and sent them to Downton. Lady Sybil had been greatly relieved when she found the ornament amongst the hastily packed detritus of their Dublin home. She had shown Mrs. Hughes the memento as proudly that day as she had on the day she'd first received it. Less than a month later, Sybil was gone.

Now, Charles squatted next to Sybbie after setting her down. They looked up at the tree very seriously in unison; his great large face even with her tiny doll-like features.

"That is a very fine branch, my girl. Well placed." She smiled proudly at his approval. Impulsively, she grabbed him by one ear and the tip of his Roman nose and kissed him lightly and naturally on the cheek; much like another Sybil had done almost twenty years before.

THE END

A/N- If you want to know exactly where this Christmas tree is located, you'll have to read my next story..."Moving On".

Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting.

If you want further adventures of young Crawley girls (and of course Carson), let me know. They are very entertaining to write. Poor Edith.

I own none of these characters, but I love them like my own. I hope you love them too, J. Fellowes.