Mary and Henry review the service and reception plans again on the train back to London. Henry says, "I trust you are keeping an accountancy of the expenses? My parents' assets should be adequate to cover them at least." They have not been in touch with the banks about the accounts listed in the will, but the last pay statement from the Foreign Office indicated that his father's salary was not as meager as Henry had expected.

Mary appeases her husband, "Not to worry, darling. Someone else will be paying."

Henry is taken aback, "Your parents should not have to-"

Mary interrupts him, "My parents were second to offer. Winifred's father was first, and he was quite insistent about it when I tried to decline."

"You spoke with Mr. Hastings?" Henry remembers how distraught the man had been on the telephone, and is concerned that Mary had to deal with it.

Mary nods and answers, "He rang the day after you talked with him. He was still upset, obviously. With his wife gone, too, he confessed he was relieved that he did not have to plan anything, and paying was the least he could do. He is very comforted with how you are handling things to include the whole family, not just your parents. When he said he wanted to pay, he rambled a bit about having no heirs now, and that he has no idea what to do with his money." Mary actually had been relieved that she had been the one to talk to the man. Not only would it have made Henry more upset again, but it avoided him being a middle man for discussion of the expenses.

At this, Henry shakes his head, "That is not a good problem to have given the circumstances."

Mary says, "I was planning on introducing him to the Turners."

"I wish I had known you were ill, Laura. I would have come down and checked on you," Tom says to Laura over lunch at The Sketch office. Like everyone else so far, Laura looks tired and like she has lost some weight during her illness. Tom sees that she has her appetite back as she polishes off a sizable sandwich.

Laura says, "It's alright, Tom, I know you were very busy or up at Downton. I could not ring you-I was too weak-and I suppose Audrey didn't think to. I appreciate the sentiment, and the flowers, by the way."

"It was good that you didn't go to Brancaster after all," Tom points out.

Laura agrees, "Yes! I am amazed and glad that you did not get sick. There was no fun in it."

Tom chuckles, "I am made of tough Irish stock, I guess."

"So Sybbie must be more British than Irish," Laura teases.

"I cannot control everything," Tom says. "Are you feeling well enough to attend the services? Perhaps you should stay here and rest."

Laura says, "I am well enough that I still plan on going. Even Dr. Clarkson had said a few days after the fever breaks is adequate to not worry about being contagious. I feel we must all be there for Henry if we can."

Even though it was so long ago, Laura still recalls the pain from losing her brother. For her family, it was hard to be together-commiseration was not helpful. In hindsight, Laura thinks that was because each had lost someone different: a son, a husband, and a brother. Instead of sharing their sorrow, helping each other, they each had acted as if the others would not understand. Laura's reaction had been to leave the terribly despondent environment and make her life in London. She knows now that that may have helped herself temporarily, but it only caused more heartache for her parents for which she is now regretful. Laura wants to do her part to help Henry through his mourning, and let him know that turning to others for support can be one of the best ways to do so.

Tom nods, "Would you like to go together to London then? I am taking the late train tomorrow. Sybbie went with everyone else today."

Laura looks at Tom as if his question made her realize something she'd forgotten. "Heavens! With being ill I forgot to book a room!" Laura says.

Tom says, "Everyone else is at Grantham house, so Rosamund should have space. Shall I ring her to ask?"

"I do not want to impose, I'll find something," Laura says.

Tom reaches for the telephone, saying, "You won't be imposing if I am the one asking."

Taking a short break from proffering trays of food or drinks, Barrow surveys the guests milling about Grantham house at the reception after the service. He is pleased with what he sees. He finds Mr. Carson, who is also keeping a watchful eye on things, and says, "Mr. Carson, I want to thank you for your help on this. Not only for working on the event, but for making sure to teach me along the way." As soon as Barrow had arrived in London, Carson went through everything that had been done so far, and what had still required attention before Saturday's somber occasion. So far, everything was running smoothly.

Carson looks at Thomas, sees the genuine gratefulness in the younger man's face, and nods in acknowledgement. "It would not do to embarrass the family, today or in the future."

Barrow gives his former superior and mentor a little smirk, knowing that this is the closest he is going to get to a 'you are welcome' from the man. "No, it wouldn't."

"Mr. Hastings, allow me to introduce you to Mary's aunt, Rosamund Painswick, and my friends, Mr. Kenneth and Mrs. Elizabeth Turner," Henry says.

"Our sympathies, Mr. Hastings," the trio say politely.

"Painswick? Is that any relation to Marmaduke Painswick?" Mr. Hastings asks Rosamund.

"Why yes, he is my late husband," Rosamund replies. "Did you know him?"

Hastings replies, "Yes indeed, as a matter of fact. We were in banking together a long time ago."

"What a small world!" Elizabeth Turner exclaims. Her thoughts go immediately to the telephone conversation she had yesterday with Mary. Mary had discreetly suggested to Elizabeth that the Turners meet Hastings not only to express their sympathy for the loss of his daughter, but to establish a connection for him. Mary had summarized her conversation with the man, and suggested the Turners might be able to give him some advice on how to begin to select charities or other organizations for gifts. Mary had admitted to not knowing the scale of Mr. Hastings holdings, only that he seemed tortured by this new lack of direction. Elizabeth surmises two things given Mr. Hastings' banking occupation: first, that he might have significant assets, and so his worry about what to do with them is understandable; second, that his finance-minded character and Mary's report of his talkative nature means he will bring up the topic himself eventually.

"Tell us about your daughter, if it does not pain you too much," Kenneth Turner requests.

Hastings looks down a little before looking up and replying, "What can a father say that any father wouldn't? She brightened a room, she was remarkably intelligent, beautiful,..." He pauses a moment to collect himself.

"I do know my brother loved her dearly, sir," Henry says.

Hastings nods, "Yes, that was a good match. I was not sure at first; he was too much like myself, being so focused on work and money matters, and Freddie being much more skilled at social graces. But rather than oil and water as it appeared when they met, they complemented each other, didn't they?"

Henry simply nods. He never spent enough time with the couple to know, but what Mr. Hastings has described about his brother is accurate.

Hastings goes on, "Although it tragically caused their demise, I think the travel brought out the best of that partnership. I visited them last year, you know. The children were delightful."

Again, everyone is silent while Hastings remembers his daughter and her family. He takes a deep breath in, then says, "Thank you, Henry, for the wonderful service. You and the Right Reverend did a remarkable job with it. I could not have remained as composed as you."

"You are welcome, Mr. Hastings," Henry says.

"Gerald, please," Hastings continues. "You may have physical features from your mother's side, but that skill comes from your father. I saw him give a talk while I was there, and hearing you today, why, if I had closed my eyes I would have thought it was him."

Henry simply nods, not wanting to comment further on himself. Henry can tell he and Kenneth are of the same mind at the moment that Hastings needs to be the center of attention. He lost a daughter and grandchildren, but most of the attendees are here because of Sir Harold and James. Henry is also beginning to see what Mary meant about the man's rambling, but it is understandable.

To the rest of the group, Hastings says, "Thank you all for coming. It helps, knowing I am not the only one who cares."

"Of course," Rosamund says. "While these gatherings are to memorialize the deceased, they really are for us who remain, aren't they?"

Hastings looks kindly at Rosamund, thanking her for the sentiment. They both have lost spouses, and now he his children and grandchildren as well. He says, "It does help to have support. I know it is silly, but it seems to be an even more uncertain future now. I was looking forward to them being back, at least for a little while. Now I shall have to find other things to look forward to. Other ways to spend my earnings now that I have no grandchildren to spoil."

"Mr. Hastings, please accept my condolences," Bertie has approached the group and taken Hastings' hand.

"Ah, Lord Hexham, thank you kindly," Hastings says. "It is good of you to come all the way from Brancaster."

"Some things are necessary. I would much rather be meeting you at another hunt there than this occasion," Bertie says.

Henry catches Mary's eye from across the room, seeing that she is indicating he should bring Hastings in her direction. Then he sees that she and Violet have been joined by Sir Austen Chamberlain and his half-brother, Sir Neville. He says, "If you'll excuse us a moment…" then gently takes Mr. Hastings' elbow, and whispers into his ear as he guides the man over to Mary's group.

To the Turners, Bertie says, "It is good to see you again, Mr. Turner."

"This is my wife, Elizabeth," Turner says. "Have you met? She and your wife have gotten to know each other quite well."

"It is a pleasure, madam," Bertie says. "Yes, Edith appreciates your advice immensely. I could say the same thing to my wife and it wouldn't carry the same weight."

"Of course, Lord Hexham," Elizabeth responds. "But it never hurts to keep trying." She is looking teasingly at her own husband as she says this.

"Bertie, please," Bertie says. To Kenneth, he says, "I understand you are a hunting and shooting enthusiast. Edith mentioned a suggestion to have a magazine board meeting at Brancaster rather than London one day, so spouses can attend."

Kenneth smiles, and says, "Did she? Why, that's a splendid idea that I would support fully!"

Rosamund asks Bertie, "How do you know Mr. Hastings?"

"I wouldn't say I know him well; just that he has come with a group of financiers for shooting parties."

"Apparently he knew my late husband," Rosamund informs Bertie.

Kenneth says, "That is not unusual, Rosamund. The banking sector is no different than your charity work-Elizabeth has told me how you two have found many you know in common."

Rosamund says, "Yes, and it seems we shall bring Mr. Hastings into that circle, too."

Sybbie and George peek at the crowd from a hallway. They were not specifically invited to the reception, but were not told to stay away, either. Sybbie says, "Mr. Carson told me that there would be a big gathering, but it would not be a fun party like Aunt Edith's wedding."

George says, "It shouldn't be fun; people died." He is looking for Mummy and Henry, to make sure they are alright. He sees them talking with great Granny Violet and some men, one of whom has a monocle. Everyone in the group seems to be looking sympathetically at another man, who George remembers Henry introducing before the service as his Aunt Winifred's father.

Sybbie says, "Mr. Carson said that sometimes Irish funerals are happy parties. I asked Daddy, and he said it's true."

George looks at his cousin and says, "Why would Irish people be happy that someone died?"

Sybbie says, "They aren't happy the person died. They are trying to help each other be happy again. Don't you want Uncle Henry to be happy again?"

George nods, and says, "Yes, but he's not Irish, so we'll have to think of another way."

Sir Richard Carlisle approaches Laura and says, "Miss Edmunds, I expect you already know what I am going to say."

Laura smiles and answers, "That you are pleased with the response you have received about the quarterly issue of The Sketch."

"Precisely. We shouldn't talk business too much, but since neither of us really knew the Talbots, well, we might as well take advantage of the time."

Laura agrees with Carlisle that they should not discuss business here, but it is obvious the man will not be able to help himself. So she decides to attempt to keep the conversation focused appropriately. "How will your paper cover this? The number of attendees is impressive, but this is not your typical social or political gathering."

Sir Richard thinks that Laura is smarter than her question appears on the surface. She is testing him, implying that she believes he should not simply report on who is here, what they are wearing, or which political side they are taking at the moment. For such a somber occasion, and given who the deceased are, he would not allow that, even though his paper does follow and report on society stories. It is another instance when his being friends with Henry happens to align with how the event should be covered by the press. He decides to test back. "How would you do it if you were in my place?"

Laura surveys the crowd, then answers, "I would make note of the number and importance of the attendees as indicative of how well regarded the deceased were, and with what respect they should be remembered. I would point out that the memorial service helps us remember not just that they lost their lives, but that they gave their lives before then toward England's commitment to the world. To remind us that the Kingdom daily risks sending, and therefore losing such talent, for everyone's benefit."

Carlisle smiles, admiring how she covered society, politics, and respect for the deceased with that way of summarizing it. And not from a woman's section perspective; she made no mention of attire, or menu, or floral settings. Nor even that this reception was held at the beautiful Grantham House, where the deceased never had a connection until recently through Henry. He says, "That would be my thinking as well. It is too bad I couldn't have convinced you to join my paper. I'll warn you that I haven't given up."

Laura says, "Sir Richard, I appreciate the vote of confidence. But my being at The Sketch furthers your business, too."

"Yes, it does." Carlisle likes Miss Edmunds; he has always been drawn to intelligent people who are strong enough to stand up for themselves. He says, "I look forward to continuing our association, either way."

"Would you like to help me change your brother's nappy, Marigold?" Edith asks her daughter. Marigold is visiting with Mirada, Edith, and the baby in the bedroom at tea, and Edith has just finished nursing little Robert. Edith glances over to Mirada and the nanny to silently stop them from intervening, as would typically happen when a nappy needs changing. Edith wants to have Marigold be involved, to interact with her mother on some of these caregiving activities, and to get to know her brother from the beginning. In spite of their visits at Downton, Edith thinks that Marigold did not have much time in the nursery with Jack or the twins like George and Sybbie did. Marigold surprises her mother by knowing exactly what needs to be done and jumping up to help.

"Yes, Mummy," Marigold says, and briskly walks over, dips a clean cloth into the water basin and squeezes it out, and gets a clean nappy. She is just about back near the bed on which Edith has placed little Robert on a cloth when her mother begins to unpin and open the nappy. The cool air hits the baby's skin, and a stream shoots out from his lower region, narrowly missing Marigold.

The young girl laughs, "Mummy! I didn't know babies came with fountains!"

Mr. Molesley and Andy bring the last of the dinner dishes down be cleaned, and Andy says to Daisy and Mrs. Patmore, "You two ladies deserve an award for the last few days. I have heard nothing but praise for the food served at the reception." He gestures with his head to overhead, saying, "The family is still talking about it."

Mrs. Patmore looks over at Andy, grateful that their hard work is recognized, but exhausted from the effort. She had thought she was over the flu, and had felt better until this evening. The pace of the work the past two days was frantic, and has caught up with her. She needs a good night's sleep. She responds to Andy's accolade, "The guests certainly ate 'nough!"

Andy and Daisy laugh at this.

Mr. Molesley adds, "Even when I was serving today, guests came looking for some of the bites. It seemed I had just filled a tray when it was empty and I had to refill it again!"

Daisy proudly says, "I like that all those important people enjoyed our cooking."

Mr. Molesley says, "Daisy, one's government or social position has nothing to do with one's appetite."

Andy says, "I think they should be proud, Mr. Molesley-some of the guests, they have been all over the world, and eaten all sorts of things."

Daisy is pleased that Andy came to her defense.

Mr. Molesley corrects himself, "Oh, I didn't mean it that way, just that people in all classes can appreciate good cooking. I know I do-are there any more of those pastry puffs with the pâté inside?" Mr. Molesley looks hopefully around the kitchen.

Mrs. Patmore answers, "Nah-those were the first to go! And none o' the fish cakes left, either!" In a moment of subversion earlier in the day, Mrs. Patmore had allowed the staff to sample the hors d'oeuvres that were to be served, "To make sure they are edible for the fine guests who are comin'," she had said. All of them were excellent, but the two mentioned just now were superior.

Molesley pouts a little, and settles for a piece of cheese.

Mrs. Patmore turns to Daisy, "How'd ya think to wrap the ham and asparagus in pastry like that? 'Twas a good bite to make up quick."

Daisy shrugs, saying, "I dunno, I guess I been thinkin' about pie crust and pastry a lot lately. And we had the asparagus and ham..."

Andy snickers and remarks, "Some guests were nervous about using their fingers at first, but got over that quickly!" While most of the appetizers had been served with toothpicks or little forks, the oblong shape of these made that awkward. "They disappeared as fast as any of the others."

Mrs. Patmore rolls her eyes, saying, "That reminds me-the ham and asparagus was 'sposed ta be for omelets tomorrow! It's too late ta find an open market, even in London, and tomorrow bein' Sunday… Andy- have Mr. Barrow call over to Lady Rosamund's and see if they have somethin' else we can use."

As Andy turns to leave, Daisy calls after him, "Th' Hexham house is not far, either-he can check there, too."

"How do you remember London so well when you live in the country and don't spend much time here?" Andy asks Daisy as they walk back to Grantham House from Hexham house. He is carrying a small box containing an assortment of smoked fish, mushrooms, and other foodstuffs. Daisy's assistance there before Christmas had made Mrs. Smyth more than willing to provide some simple ingredients to Grantham House. Daisy had remembered where the house is, so had accompanied Andy on the errand.

"I dunno, jus' always like comin' here. Big cities are excitin'. Didn't always like going back, tho'," Daisy confides in Andy. "But I don't mind any more." To herself, Daisy thinks fondly of Mr. Mason, and how he has helped her feel like she has a home. Being at the big house always felt like she was just living in someone else's home. Which she was.

Andy asks, cautiously, "What did you think about the Molesleys having their honeymoon here?"

Daisy is oblivious to the hint that Andy just made. She chuckles and responds, "'At twas funny, weren't it?"

Andy asks, "What do you mean, funny?"

Daisy says, "I overheard Phyllis tell Anna that all Mr. Molesley wanted ta do was go ta the museums all day-all of 'em! She obliged, 'cause he loved it so much. But they were so tired they didn't get ta see any shows or do much else that she wanted ta do."

Andy ponders this. From his stories, Mr. Molesley had come back thrilled with the honeymoon trip. He must not have even realized his bride felt differently. Andy had not heard Phyllis' side. He says, "'Twas nice of Mrs. Molesley to do that for her new husband."

Daisy nods, still smiling at the story.

Andy again proceeds with caution, "I guess most married folks do things for each other."

Again Daisy does not see where Andy is headed. She says, "'Course! Look at the whole family! Someone always has to move, or give up somethin'. Usually it's the woman, like Lady Edith, but Mr. Branson, Mr. Talbot..."

"That's different...I mean, the little things, like Phyllis putting up with the museums to make Molesley happy." Andy pauses a little, then asks, "What little things would make you happy?"

Daisy finally looks over at Andy, and gives him a curious look, almost embarrassed by his question. "Uh, er, …"

They really don't talk about their relationship, but she can see from Andy's expression that his question is in earnest. She's never had anyone who wanted to make her happy before, who she liked back. She supposes William did, but she was always so conflicted about him. Mr. Mason does, but that is different. Neither of them even realize it, but Andy has just made a huge leap within Daisy.

She tries to think of an answer...when is she pleased?

"I like when people notice and say kind things...not just about me. 'Twas nice when ya told Mr. Branson I'm a good driver, but also tonight when ya said good things about our food. I could tell Mrs. Patmore was happy to hear it."

Andy says, "I was just being honest, Daisy." He continues with a little smile, "But I'll try to be honest more often."

Daisy smiles back, "Thank ye." Daisy feels she needs to ask the same question of him, "Is there anythin' that would make you happy? Besides more kissin', I mean?"

There is something that Andy thinks would make him very happy, but he doesn't know if Daisy is ready yet based on this conversation. And he himself said they are talking about little things. Andy knows that he can be a teaser, and that Daisy doesn't always appreciate it. "You know when I tease you it's 'cause I like you? I'm just tryin' to make you laugh. I like it when you smile. I would like it if you don't get upset if I tease you."

Daisy smirks, inwardly laughing at the situation. Now she realizes she should have asked Andy not to tease her as much. Too late for that given his request. Now she has a sense of what Phyllis felt like with the museums. At least she'll be able to laugh at the situation if not his teasing, but he won't know the difference. Just like Mr. Molesley probably does not know. She tells Andy, "I dunno if I can promise it...but I guess I can try."

Rosamund and Laura have a casual breakfast together the next morning. Rosamund says, "I was actually pleased when Tom asked for you to stay here, Laura. It gives us a chance to discuss the scholarship at Hillcroft College."

Laura asks, "Oh, do they have questions about it? I would have expected Mrs. Harding would be in touch if so. I understand the money was transferred last month."

"I am sure there will be questions, especially if you and Edith want to put restrictions, or the opposite, for that matter, on recipients or on what the money can cover." Rosamund explains.

"In what way?" Laura inquires.

Rosamund says, "If I understand from our earlier discussions, you and Edith would like the scholarship to go to a clever girl who would be able to handle the academics at a school like Hillcroft, but whose family does not have the means to send her themselves. Am I correct?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Well, finding such applicants may be a challenge in itself: girls from families like that may not even realize the opportunity exists."

"Good point, Rosamund. Would it be helpful to place advertisements, say in the magazine?" Laura asks. "I am sure I can find some space for that, and work with Hillcroft on it."

Rosamund nods, "Excellent idea! My other thought is that, well, girls in that situation might not feel like they fit in at a place like Hillcroft. You might want to consider allowing scholarship money to be used for things beyond tuition, room and board, and books."

Laura nods in understanding immediately. In some ways, it is like how she feels whenever she stays with the Crawley family, even just Rosamund. Laura herself is a mature, self-confident woman, and the upper class lifestyle is not intimidating to her, but it is different. She suspects that Hillcroft is not so grand, but it could be just enough different to be intimidating or at least uncomfortable for a younger, less experienced girl. She would like to visit Hillcroft and assess that herself; she thinks she might be better at doing so than Edith. They do not want a young scholarship recipient to be unsuccessful simply because she has not been taught formal dinner manners, or does not feel like she has the right clothing to fit in. She says, "Rosamund, I agree. Please let me know the next time you will be visiting Hillcroft. I would like to go with you to represent The Sketch. Edith and I will discuss this beforehand, and we will make sure Hillcroft knows our wishes."

Mary and Henry sit near Aunt Prudence on the train back to York.

Prudence says, "Mary, the reception was perfect. Your mother told me you were the organizing force and I think it showed that someone who cares so much for us took the reins."

Mary bows her head slightly in gratitude for the recognition. Prudence continues, "It reminds me a little of my sister...although right now everything does. If it is said that behind every great man there is a great woman, that couple was the proof of it. Winifred and James, too, I think."

"I always thought of both of my parents as organized and competent," Henry remarks.

Prudence snickers, saying, "You see? She made everyone think that. Clarissa had a way of influencing your father. Take you, for example."

"Me?" Henry asks.

"Of course." Prudence chuckles a little. "All children present challenges to their parents at some point or another, but with you, it was constant. Clarissa made sure your father realized that there are some traits that just are."

Henry raises his eyebrows in surprise, and Mary smirks a little, wanting to know more. For the first time with this pregnancy, she has not been feeling well, all day so far, and would love a distraction. "Please, Aunt Prudence, go on. I sense stories I have not heard yet."

Prudence smiles at Mary, saying, "Henry was an active child: up early, wanting to be outside and running around rather than doing his lessons, and always getting into things. Once, the nanny asked how his robe belt had gotten torn, and it turned out he had used it to swing from a chandelier!"

Mary gives her husband a small smile of surprise, and Henry laughs a little, remembering the incident.

Prudence continues, "It was his unlimited energy that forced his parents to find summer holiday retreats in Yorkshire or other country spots. Even there, you would never know if you would find Henry out climbing trees or in the barns taking apart the farming equipment."

Henry smiles, and asks, "I did not realize my mother would have needed to convince my father to summer in the country."

"Oh, I think it was just as much for herself as you. She was an active spirit, too, and riding was one of her outlets for it. You recall she loved riding, don't you?" Henry nods with a smile. Mary looks pleasantly surprised. Prudence continues, "You gave her an excuse for going somewhere she could do it. When you were a youngster, it was easier for them to do these things. It was more when you got older that you caused the greater conflict."

Henry sighs, and says, "Because of racing."

Prudence tilts her head in a small shrug, and says, "Yes, in part."

There is something in the way that Aunt Prudence said this that makes Mary think it is more than Henry thinks. She asks, "Can you bear to tell us?"

Prudence looks down at her hands and silently considers the simple request. Yes, she can bear it, for the rest of the train ride to York even, to talk, about Clarissa or anything else. Henry and Mary are listening, which nobody else seems to do these days. She never did have the presence that Violet still has. She has her stateliness and grace and proper carriage. She always did throw a grand party, but there has been no money for those in years. And she still has her instinctive ability to know when something needs fixing at the estate, before it breaks and causes greater damage. Muriel could do it but does not put in the effort. Nobody in her immediate family notices or cares about her contributions anymore. So she will bask in this attention, especially from the man who resembles her sister so much.

She says, "You know Henry is smart; he figured out early on how to get just good enough marks in his schooling to do well and not upset his parents. Then he could have free time to pursue his other activities. Or so he thought. Clarissa and Harold argued on end anyway because they knew that Henry could get even better marks. They disagreed about what to do about it. Harold wanted to confront him, but Clarissa thought it would do no good and he should have the extra time for the things that gave him joy."

Prudence addresses Henry, "You are a lot like your mother, you know. Did you realize that it was she who convinced your father to turn to diplomacy? She had a taste for adventure, and that was a way for her to fulfill it while being a dutiful spouse. She could see herself in you, that you needed stimulation, and books alone could not do it like they could for James. You have always liked to figure things out, what makes people and things do what they do. Your laboratory was the world around you: people and the physical sciences, including machines."

Mary says, "Aunt Prudence, if Henry's mother knew that about him, what was the conflict?"

"They disagreed about his profession, of course. Harold wanted him to follow in his steps-you would have been much better at it than James. However, Clarissa was thrilled that Henry was pursuing something that enlivened him."

Mary looks over at Henry, who is looking at Prudence with an expression of disbelief.

"Oh, yes, Henry. She was so proud of your racing career! She followed all of them, at least the ones for which I could send her news clippings."

Mary reaches out and takes Henry's hand, giving it a squeeze. But Aunt Prudence is not done yet. "It was interesting that they disagreed in almost opposite fashion about the money."

Henry looks bewildered. "Pardon?"

"After the war. Harold wanted you to have a leg to stand on, a sense that you had something to fall back on if you needed to. Clarissa disagreed. Oh, that argument was bloody awful from a distance, excuse my language but it is the only phrase that fits. I can only imagine what it must have been like for the participants. Your mother thought it better for you to make your own way-she had confidence you could do so. But she also she feared that you might 'invest' the money-and I do not use that word in a positive light-on expensive race cars. As much as she loved that you found a profession that suited you, she knew from your stories how long most race cars last."

Henry snickers. There were some seasons he recalls when a car might last only for a practice run and a race, getting ruined say, when an errant stone kicked up from another car's tires punctured the gas tank and the whole thing caught fire. He had no idea that his mother had paid that much attention.

"Your father, on the other hand, had faith in you. He ultimately won out, and I believe he was correct, was he not?"

Mary has a smirk on her face. It seems that both she and her husband were accurate in their assessment of Henry's parents. She says, "Aunt Prudence, thank you for telling us these stories."

Prudence chuckles a little, "I could go on for hours; the telling...it feels right to talk about them, Clarissa especially for me."

Henry looks sincerely at his aunt, and says, "You have our ears always, and my thanks."

Prudence looks over at Mary again and confides, "I am not sure I should relate this, but Clarissa was worried about Henry's changed lifestyle since marriage, that it might not be the best thing for him."

Mary says, "Heavens! But she never met me!"

Prudence tuts and pats Mary's arm, "Of course it was not you, Mary. She knew that her son would never marry unless it was a very special woman. I helped some, too, giving her a more first hand account of your relationship. Not to worry, I believe Henry's letters appeased her somewhat, that his new business and the children were giving him the challenges he needs. She was especially happy to hear there was George-a young child is so much more engaging than a baby." Aunt Prudence looks wistfully out the window of the train. "I wish she had been able to meet everyone..."

Henry sadly says, "So do I, Aunt Prudence. So do we all."

In seats a few away from the trio, Cora pulls out a notebook from a bag that is a feminine version of an attache. As she looks at an appointment book to see what lays in store for her the upcoming week, she gasps, "Goodness!"

Robert puts down his newspaper and says, "What is it, dear?"

"With all of the excitement of the birth and the distraction of the funeral, we never sent invitations for the staff luncheon! It is supposed to be next Sunday!"

Robert pats her hand, saying, "Dear, why don't we just delay it a week this month?"

Cora gives her husband a thankful smile, "Of course that is what we will do, thank you, dear."

"Who will it be this time?" Robert asks.

"I am not sure. Let me ask George and Sybbie." Cora gets up and sits down near the children, and Robert can see a smiling exchange between the three.

"Who are the lucky ones?" Robert asks upon her return.

"Mrs. Patmore, and the groom." Cora answers.

Henry knocks sharply on Cora's bedroom door. Cora has just finished changing into nightwear and Mrs. Bates was about to brush out her hair.

Henry looks like he was interrupted as he was getting undressed. His shirt is unbuttoned at the top and his collar open. His face is like nothing Cora has ever seen before. If she had gotten to the scene of Charlie Roger's car crash with some of the early arrivers, she would have. His habitual politeness is unusual coming with a voice that is panicked, "Pardon me, Cora, but Mary needs Anna-Mrs. Bates. Actually, she needs both of you."

Cora asks, "What is it?"

Henry says, "I've asked Barrow to ring for Dr. Clarkson. Mary fears...she thinks she's lost the baby."