Author's Note: "The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you and is willing to trust you with a friendship." ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Disclaimer: I'm not even a custodian, my dears, let alone an owner. These characters and their settings are the work of others. I hope I do not offend with my homage.

A year before, after Tom and Sybil had first announced their engagement to the assembled Crawley family, the young couple had agreed that Sybil would stay at the big house, and Tom would stay at the Grantham Arms for the week or so until their departure for Ireland.

The only 'event' that actually occurred during that period which called for the presence of both of them had been Miss Swire's funeral. Réquiem ætérnam dona ei, Dómine; et lux perpétua lúceat ei. Requiéscat in pace. Amen.

Tom had met Sybil at the church for the funeral, and that was the only time he had seen her family, and he had spoken only to Lord Grantham. That plan had turned out well, and Tom thought perhaps it could serve as a template for this event: Sybil could stay with her family, and he could join her at the church just for the wedding itself…

Tom was almost to the door of the Grantham Arms when a voice arrested him.

"Bit early for drowning your sorrows." Mr. Matthew Crawley's voice opined.

Tom turned and faced his about-to-be brother-in-law.

Of all the members of the Crawley family whom Tom had served in his time at Downton, he knew Mr. Crawley the least well. Mr. Matthew had mostly declined on principle to be driven about, preferring to walk, or to bicycle, or to take the train 'like an ordinary person.' He consented to be driven only when accompanying other family members, or going somewhere too far to reach on foot or by bicycle, and which was not accessible by train.

A servant with a different sort of mind might have been confused, or angry, or felt threatened by an employer who so steadfastly refused to avail himself of that servant's services, but Branson had plenty of customers already at Downton; he admired Mr. Crawley.

Furthermore, he liked him. He did not know how to explain it. Despite the respect he had felt for Mr. Matthew's wish to get around on his own without being, quite literally, 'chauffeured about,' on the extremely rare occasions the man had consented to be driven somewhere alone, Tom had been so happy.

Tom's personal insights into Mr. Crawley's character had been verified and augmented by listening to the way others spoke about Downton's heir presumptive: Mrs. Bird had a very high opinion of the 'young master,' born of long experience with him as boy and man, old Lady Grantham had grown used to him and considered him both decent and honorable, and Lord Grantham clearly considered Mr. Crawley in locum filium.

And of course, when Branson found himself at the count in Ripon with a Lady Sybil who refused to leave, the chauffeur had greeted the advent of Mr. Crawley on the scene with a gratitude he had never previously felt at the appearance of mortal man. Then when Sybil was injured, Mr. Matthew had commanded, and Branson had obeyed, as naturally as though the Englishman were already the Earl.

Branson thought he might have been able to find help for Lady Sybil on his own, but it would likely have involved taking her directly either to Downton or to Dr. Clarkson. Mr. Crawley's handling of matters (having Branson take them to Mrs. Crawley, then fetch Lady Mary) had been to everyone's benefit, especially Branson's, because it meant that Lady Sybil was conscious and no longer bleeding upon her arrival home. And Mr. Matthew had been more than kind in delivering and expanding upon Lady Mary's message that night… It was wonderful that Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew had settled their differences: they were clearly meant to be together.

Mary entered the dining room to find her father and Edith still at table. Papa finished first, and when he left, Edith said, "Mary, can we help Tom somehow?"

"Help him?" Mary asked.

"Papa was hateful to him while they were eating breakfast."

"What did Papa say?"

"Nothing…which is the point."

Mary frowned. "Where is Tom now?"

"I think he went up to see Sybil."

"Our proudly working class sister is having breakfast in bed waited on hand and foot by servants?"

"Well," Edith said dryly, "she is a married woman."

Edith went upstairs to talk to the Bransons; Mary stepped into the library to remonstrate with her father.

"Papa?" Mary asked, entering the huge book-lined room to find him at his desk.

"Yes?" He did not look up.

"Papa…" she sighed. "Do you think Tom will go away if you treat him badly?"

Lord Grantham gave a chuff of laughter which was half a snort. "Is he threatening to? Speed the day!"

"Papa."

Her father finally looked up at her.

"Please try to be a little kinder to him."

"I am trying," he said shortly.

"No, you're not."

"You're taking his part against me?" Lord Grantham's tone was smoothly challenging.

"Papa, you agreed that I could invite him to stay. He's a guest. Doesn't a guest deserve a little consideration?"

Lord Grantham looked at his eldest daughter for a long time. "My darling, I brought that man into this house as a servant. I treated him kindly then; I trusted him. He repaid my trust by stealing my youngest daughter from me. I am showing him consideration every moment I'm with him, by not thrashing him as he deserves."

With that, the Earl of Grantham turned back to his very important papers.

Mary went up to her youngest sister's room to report her lack of success, and give her brother-in-law some encouragement. She found Sybil and Edith, but the girls were alone. As she walked in, her two sisters turned to her, and all three of them said in unison, "Where's Tom?"

Violet had dropped a hint to her youngest granddaughter after dinner the night before that it might behoove herself and her husband to hie themselves into Ripon and procure a suit of evening clothes. Not that a ready-made suit of evening clothes wouldn't be a disaster in itself, but better than the alternatives. For Heaven's sake, she wanted the talk about Branson dampened down not stirred up by his unorthodox apparel. What on earth had Sybil been thinking to bring him here without a single stitch of suitable clothing? What did she think was going to happen to him dressed that way?! Young people have no sense.