Mrs. Bute arrived within the week. She had been between positions when she received Lady Grantham's letter. She sent a telegram to accept the offer, and then telephoned Mr. Carson to tell him what train she would arrive on. He had planned to order the car to pick her up, but both of them were in use by the family when her train was due to arrive.

"I suppose I'll walk to the station and meet her," Mr. Carson told Mrs. Hughes when he discovered this little problem. "I don't really have time, but I don't think we should leave her to manage her luggage and find her way to Downton all alone."

"Send James, then," Mrs. Hughes suggested. "He can carry her bags and show her the way."

"I had hoped to give her a slightly better welcome than that, but I suppose it can't be helped," he remarked, dissatisfied.

"Why don't I go with James?" Mrs. Hughes asked. "I can spare the time today, and I could use a walk. We can let him bring the bags ahead while I acquaint Mrs. Bute with a few main places in the village and then bring her here."

Mr. Carson smiled gratefully. "That would be excellent. Just show her the church and the post office and the like?"

"Yes, exactly," she assented. "And perhaps the hospital. But I'm sure she'll be tired, so the full tour can wait until she's settled in."

"You are a lifesaver, Mrs. Hughes. Now I must go. Let me know when you've returned with Mrs. Bute." He hurried out of her sitting room.

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A few hours later Mrs. Hughes and James were on the platform, waiting for the train due in a few minutes. "I don't expect she will have a great deal of luggage, James. When you get back to the house, Eliza or Catherine can take it up to her room; they both know which one is hers and will be expecting you."

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," James agreed.

"I'll show Mrs. Bute a few things in the village and we'll be back a bit later. If you see Mr. Carson you may tell him that she has arrived safely and I will take care of the rest."

The footman nodded. They heard the sound of the train approaching and before long Mrs. Bute had stepped out of a third-class compartment. Mrs. Hughes and James approached her.

"Welcome to Downton, Mrs. Bute," Mrs. Hughes said with a friendly smile. James nodded a greeting to her as he took charge of her two bags and headed out of the station.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."

"We had planned to send a car for you, but both of them are spoken for at the moment, so I'm afraid we'll have to walk."

"I don't mind a walk," Mrs. Bute replied. "I would like to stretch my legs."

"I can show you a few of the primary places in the village if you are not too tired," Mrs. Hughes suggested. "Otherwise we can go directly to the house."

"Oh, I should like to see a little of the village. I'm really not very tired."

"Excellent," Mrs. Hughes said. "I'll show you the church first."

"How is everything at the house?" Mrs. Bute asked as they walked.

"Very well."

"And Mr. Carson? How is he?" Mrs. Bute wanted to know.

"Mr. Carson is very well," Mrs. Hughes assured her. "Quite well." The two women made their way around the village, Mrs. Hughes pointing out a few principal points of interest. The church, the post office, and the hospital were the main buildings in the village, but she also pointed out a few other things as they passed by.

"That shop there is where Mr. Carson has his shoes repaired," she noted.

"I shouldn't think I will find much occasion to go in there," Mrs. Bute commented.

"Perhaps you won't," Mrs. Hughes agreed. "Normally one of the hall boys would take care of such an errand, but if I happen to be making a trip into the village when his shoes are ready, it's easy enough for me to stop in and pick them up. It's not something you would be required to do as housekeeper." When Mrs. Bute detected a faint flush that had risen to her companion's cheeks, she was relieved. She had never believed that Mrs. Patmore had lied to her about the Downton housekeeper's regard for Mr. Carson, but she had always worried that there might have been some misunderstanding, and that she had done wrong by interfering. Now, however, Mrs. Bute understood that Mrs. Patmore had been correct. There was most certainly something afoot if Mrs. Hughes troubled herself to take care of one of Mr. Carson's personal errands and then blushed at the mention of it. This one exchange was not enough for Mrs. Bute to feel certain that the woman was in love, but it seemed likely that she was, or something near it.

Mrs. Bute did not say much as they completed the circuit of the small village and then made their way toward Downton Abbey. She already felt that she could be comfortable and happy here, and she had not yet seen the house. She was, of course, already acquainted with the family and some of the staff, though she knew she would soon be learning the names of a small army of housemaids, kitchen maids, and hall boys.

When the two women crested the hill that brought the house into view, Mrs. Bute gasped. Mrs. Hughes smiled. "It is quite magnificent. I'm used to it, of course, but I do still appreciate the beauty of the house."

"It is magnificent," Mrs. Bute breathed.

Mrs. Hughes couldn't help laughing a little. "Your room in the attic isn't quite as magnificent, though it's nice enough."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be fine," she answered.

"You'll be staying in a smaller housemaid's room for now, though you won't have to share, but once I've moved out, you will be able to take the housekeeper's room, which is the largest and nicest of the female servants' bedrooms."

Mrs. Bute smiled. "Excellent."

"I'm glad we're going to have you with us, Mrs. Bute," Mrs. Hughes said. "I'm afraid Mr. Carson may have some difficulty adjusting to this change after twenty years in the same routine, but it will do him good to be working with someone he already knows."

"I'm glad if I can help."

"I'm sure you can," Mrs. Hughes assured her. "Mr. Carson has been in very good spirits, which I take as a good sign. He is no friend of change, and I suspect if we were bringing him a stranger to replace me, he would live in dread of the day I left."

"I suspect he dreads it at least a little anyway," Mrs. Bute said without thinking.

"What makes you say that?" Mrs. Hughes spoke a little more sharply than she had intended.

"I only meant that you and Mr. Carson must be good friends after so many years of working together. Surely he'll miss you, regardless of who takes your place."

"Oh, I don't know," Mrs. Hughes said evasively. "He's promised to take tea with me on some of his half days, so we'll not be strangers."

"But certainly you will miss him after being used to spending all day, every day together," Mrs. Bute persisted.

"And if I did, what have you to say about it, Mrs. Bute?" Mrs. Hughes challenged stringently.

"I apologize, Mrs. Hughes," Mrs. Bute replied. "I had no right to question you in that impertinent manner." She could perceive the sternness in the older woman now. She knew from the butler's and cook's accounts that a severe edge accompanied a generous nature, but this was her first encounter with the sharp side of Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. Bute could understand why all respected her and why those who knew her little even feared her.

Mrs. Hughes relaxed. "And I am sorry I spoke harshly. I must remember I'm not giving a telling-off to one of my housemaids. We'll say no more about it."

What a very interesting woman - made of kindness and steel and fire, Mrs. Bute marveled. There might be no more perfect match for Mr. Carson in all the world.

#####

If Mrs. Bute had arrived at Downton on the next train, Mrs. Hughes and James would also have witnessed the return of Miss Baxter. She was back a little sooner than expected and had not sent a letter or telephoned, so her appearance in the servants' hall that afternoon was a surprise to everyone. To Mrs. Hughes it was a great relief. Lady Grantham would begin interviewing candidates for Madge's replacement soon, and with Miss Baxter back at Downton, she could really spend her time training Mrs. Bute properly. The countess considered this a priority as well and had sent word to Mrs. Hughes that she was relieved of the duty of dressing Lady Edith's hair. Mrs. Hughes did notice that Miss Baxter did not look well when she first appeared at the back door. Her complexion looked slightly gray, there were shadows under her eyes, and she seemed nervous and rattled, though she assured everyone that her sister was well. Within a day or two Miss Baxter was once again herself, however, and Mrs. Hughes wondered if the lady's maid and her sister were not on good terms. It must have been a difficult time for her, wherever she had been and whatever she had done, for the difference in her appearance from the day she arrived to the next was striking.

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Mrs. Bute was welcomed cordially by the staff she already knew, and began to acquaint herself with the rest. Some of the servants wondered how the two housekeepers would get on, a few laying odds that there would be a histrionic falling out within a few days, but all speculation was laid to rest very shortly. Mrs. Hughes was a firm but patient teacher and Mrs. Bute a capable pupil, and they could be found a few times a week taking tea together in the housekeeper's sitting room, occasionally joined by Mr. Carson or Mrs. Patmore.

Lord and Lady Grantham were also pleased with Mrs. Bute's progress, and soon she and Mrs. Hughes were alternating taking care of the various housekeeper's duties at Downton Abbey. Mrs. Hughes used the extra free time to set up her home. Knowing that the young man was fond of Mrs. Hughes, Lord Grantham and Lady Mary had left the selection up to Tom Branson, and he had chosen a modernized cottage near the house. Mrs. Hughes thought it was rather too large at first, but she reminded herself that just about any home might seem large after a life lived in service, having only a single room to oneself, and even then sometimes shared with another person. The cottage had some furnishings, and Lady Grantham helped her find the rest of what she would need from the attics at the big house. Mrs. Hughes moved everything but the necessities from her bedroom and her sitting room to the cottage and began to decorate her new home. She was very pleased with how it was taking shape. Her biggest task had been getting the extra furniture moved in and, now, making curtains for every single window. It was good that Mrs. Bute was settling in so well. Otherwise Mrs. Hughes might not have finished everything in time.

Mrs. Hughes was so busy that she did not notice she was being closely watched. Mr. Carson was looking for the right moment to make his feelings and intentions clear to her, but she was always so busy with preparations for her move, or occupied with Mrs. Bute, that he did not want to disturb her. The only benefit to her being so busy and preoccupied was that he could observe her without her noticing. Sometimes when it was quiet downstairs, he stood in the corridor outside her open sitting room door and followed her movements with his eyes. Her fingers were nimble with a needle and she seemed to make good progress on the curtains, though she did occasionally make little sounds of frustration when she pricked her finger or when a bit of her skirt was somehow caught up in her stitches and she had to start again. Mr. Carson watched her hands, but he watched her face as well. It was so familiar to him, and yet he never bored of it. Occasionally, he let his eyes drift down to her ankles, feeling ridiculous but unable to resist a quick look. They were always covered now with dark stockings, so there was not much to see, but he was still reminded of their day together by the sea. Even now he blushed when he thought of his blundering comment, but he smiled as well. She was beautiful from her head to her toes.

What Mr. Carson didn't know was that he was being observed. While he was absorbed in the task of staring silently at Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore caught sight of him looking through the open sitting room door. The first time, she thought he must have lost track of what he was doing and stopped for a moment to think about it, but then she lost track of how many times she had seen him doing the same thing and was almost shocked by how long he stood there. If she hadn't known the real reason for Mr. Carson's behavior, this strange summer might have convinced her that he was out of his mind.

Mrs. Patmore was a woman of action. As she punched and kneaded some dough, she thought over all she had seen and made a decision about what she would do about it. If Mr. Carson could stand in the corridor for minutes on end, keeping quiet as he stared at Mrs. Hughes, he might not be trusted to ever address her as he should. Mrs. Patmore was well enough acquainted with him to know it was no good to openly chivvy him about it. She simply needed to find ways of hurrying things along, of placing the two of them in situations conducive to romantic conversation. Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes often drank wine together in the evening, but that had clearly yielded nothing, even though Mrs. Patmore knew for a fact that since his return from London, they had met faithfully in his pantry every night but one. No, she would have to do better than that, and an idea was already forming in her mind for her first attempt.

To be continued...

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