Your reviews are so very lovely! The Dowager would like to have you round for tea. She may even serve crumpets. On with it, then.

There is a consummate pleasure to incense. It rises, languorously ,from its censer in parturient clouds, inciting the mind to belief in a God or gods. Incense cleanses, electrifies, awakens. If you have ever walked into a Catholic church or a Hindu temple for morning worship, the simmering clouds of incense will provoke your soul to its oldest memories, to the possibility of the transcendent, of that something that is just out of reach of your mind's eye.

Sybil Crawley, standing hidden in a side pew of the Westminster Cathedral, watches the priest incense the altar and ponders the transportive capacity of the aroma of cedar and teak. She has a fleeting memory of hiding in her father's cedar lined trunk as a child, and then another of her first experience of nature.

You may ask why Sybil Crawley, whose family's allegiance to the Church of England goes all the way back to the gleam that Henry VIII had in his eye when he espied the nubile figure of Anne Boleyn, is standing in a Catholic cathedral . To answer, we must look to the date; May 26th 1914. The day prior, the House of Commons had passed the bill on Irish Home Rule, and Sybil felt incomprehensibly drawn to the Cathedral. Certainly not for worship; even our non-judgemental Sybil cannot help wonder if there isn't something of the heathen about all those saints and rituals and flagellations. Maybe she simply wanted to hear the musical lilt of an Irish voice, or show some solidarity with how much power the English could have over another nation. Maybe we will never know the reason, but there she is. In years to come, when she and Tom are living as Mr and Mrs Branson in Dublin, Sybil will remember this morning and think of it, oddly, as the first morning of their lives together. Of course, Sybil is not thinking of marriage to Tom in this very moment. So far, she only allows herself to think that Tom is her dear, dear friend. It will take the events of the war to make Sybil truly feel that she can cross the line from friendship into love.

The Mass is ended, and Sybil feels a small hand at her elbow. Turning, she finds herself under the uncomfortable scrutiny of a rather wizened nun. Here is a universal truth about nuns- even the kindliest of nuns can fix you with a look that excoriates you to your core. Or, in Crawley family parlance, the look that Granny gets if you hold your knife incorrectly.

"May I help you young lady? Did you need to speak with Father? He won't take Confession till an hour before Vespers."

"No, no, I heard that much of the Cathedral reconstruction was complete and I wished to see inside."

"Daily Mass is not a spectator sport. Tours of the Cathedral may be requested at the presbytery. This is a sacred space."

"Of course, I am so sorry. Good day."

"Good day." The nun watches Sybil until she exits and then goes to help Father in the sacristy. She reminds herself to give him a short lecture on being more aware of those attending Daily Mass. That, she felt, was the problem with the Cardinal's scheme of ordaining men who were barely out of their teens. Not an ounce of common sense or backbone among them. Apparently, the new priest at Our Lady of Perpetual Help jumped at loud noises. Offering some regret to the Lord over her irreverent attitude towards presbyters, the nun went on her way.

Meanwhile, Lady Sybil Crawley, willing the aroma of incense away from her skirts, is hurrying to St. James' Square where her Mama and staunchly Anglican Papa are meant to arrive after three weeks of holiday.

Xx

One could never accuse Mary Crawley of being overly religious. Mary is, in some ways, a creature of duty, and she will attend church service because it is expected, and defer to the Church in matters of spiritual guidance. The aristocracy and the clergy in the United Kingdom enjoy a symbiotic relationship, with many younger sons of the aristocracy often choosing the church as a career. It is, therefore, a relationship built on internal rivalry and mutual distaste for the rabble. The church generally does as it is told, and the aristocracy generally need to keep the church on their good side in order to maintain good will.

Indeed, as we encounter Mary in the sitting room at Grantham House, she is writing a letter to Mr. Travis at Downton village to thank him for his support of one of her local charities. She is interrupted by her butler.

"Your Ladyship, I just wanted to inform you that Mr. Bates and Miss O'Brien arrive fifteen minutes ago with the luggage. His Lordship and Lady Grantham stopped to pay a call on Lady Strallan and sent the cases on ahead."

"Thank you, Barrow. Are you quite ready for the invasion?"

"Perfectly, Your Ladyship. Mr. Carson and I have worked out a strict schedule. As you know, he will be here next week to oversee the various social events."

"You mustn't mind being under-butler for a month, Barrow. It is his Lordship's house, yet. Did you have a chance to look over the particulars of the two houses that I gave to you?"

"I did, milady. I found the servant's quarters of the smaller house at Montrose Place to be very agreeable, and the service area to be most suitable for preparing for full dinners. "

"Excellent, for it is the property that Mr. Crawley and I have finally settled on. In that case, Mr. Barrow, I give you leave to begin the search for a cook/housekeeper. I leave it all in your hands, but perhaps you can consult a little with Mrs. Bute and Mrs. Patmore while she is here?"

"I will begin at once, your Ladyship. "

"Lovely. And Barrow, have you seen Lady Sybil today? She was nowhere to be found when I came down after breakfast, I would not want her to be absent when my parents arrive."

"Lady Sybil left right after breakfast, your Ladyship. She said she wished to take in the portrait exhibition at the National Gallery."

Mary raised eloquent eyebrows. "The Gallery must open earlier than I expected."

"Hello, hello, hello.", said the Earl of Grantham bounding unannounced into the room.

"Goodness, Papa, how did you come in?"

"Through the door. The footman let us in. Ah, Barrow, some tea, there's a good man. What have we missed?"

"Only some races and a rather silly party at the MacDonalds. Matthew and I have been playing recluses this season. Aunt Susan keeps threatening a ball. Where is Mama?"

"Gone to take off her hat. Ah, London. When a man is tired of London he is tired of life!."

"But apparently he receives a boost when he holidays in Italy."

"Don't mind Papa, " said Cora as she came in, " he's actually giddy to be back in London."

"I have spent quite a few weeks holding your shopping bags, my dear. I am glad for my pocketbook, if anything else."

Cora smiled at him sweetly. "Mary, darling, we invited Anthony and Edith to dinner tonight. "

"I will have to let Barrow know. Tom Bellasis is coming, too. I think he is in rather hot pursuit of Sybil. I wasn't sure if I should let him come, but Sybil seems to like his company. He makes her laugh, which is good. How is Edith?"

Cora smiled brightly. Maybe too brightly. "Edith is very happy."

"Has Anthony Strallan done something slightly less than humdrum?. Oh don't look at me like that Mama. Come, let's go up and you can show me your purchases. Papa, Mr. Murray delivered a stack of papers for you yesterday. Barrow has laid them out for you in the library."

"No rest for the wicked.", said the Earl, bounding out of the room in a manner not dissimilar to his Labrador.

Xx

The dinner that night is really quite festive. Mary is a wonderful hostess, and her style is well complemented by Barrow. The intimate nature of the party also allows for a little relaxation. As always, conversations happen in twos around the dinner table. Let us flit from one to another.

Lady Sybil Crawley and the Hon. Tom Bellasis:

"So there we were, all set up for the hunt, the pack of dogs let loose before us and my horse, Pirate, stands and considers for a moment, completely ignoring my urging. Then, he turns around and walks back to the stables, still with me on his back. We couldn't get him to budge the rest of the day."

"Goodness, what did you do?"

"Sat back at the house with a cocktail. I was jolly embarrassed, I can tell you. "

"Perhaps your horse has an opinion on hunting?"

"A socially minded horse? Why not, why not. I shall change his name to Ewart."

Lady Mary Crawley and the Countess of Grantham:

"It's good to see Sybil laugh over a silly story. She's been so very serious these days, pursuing her books and schemes. I am afraid that Matthew and I have not done much to get her out socialising."

"Is she still very intent on nursing?"

"I think so. Honestly Mama, I think she just wants to feel useful. She has no interest in the things that other young ladies do. You know, dresses, parties, young men."

"I don't mind that. I never wanted you girls to be too silly, and all three of you have been brushed with a little bit of something serious, I am glad to say."

"Hmm. Although I did feel a little girlish when I saw the lace cuffs on your new morning dress. Would you mind if Anna took a look at it? I would rather like to trim one of my dresses with a similar pattern."

"Of course, darling. I brought back some sketches for Madame Swann, we could go over them tomorrow if you like."

"I am glad to see you doing so much better Mama, truly I am. How is Papa?"

"You know your father, stiff upper lip and all that. He's carrying on, and doing it rather splendidly."

Earl of Grantham and Sir Anthony Strallan:

"There are rumblings in Europe you say? There were rumblings when Edith and I were on our honeymoon too. I am afraid Europe is always full of rumblings, Grantham."

"I feel a sense of foreboding this time, I must say. Have you not felt that 1914 so far has been a most unstable year? Too many strikes and political actions. I am glad none of my girls felt the need to wield a meat cleaver, but Sybil spent a few weeks in cautious solidarity with the strikers in Leeds. Something may have to give."

"There may be civil war in Ireland. Dangerous business, Home Rule. My cousin Bartholomew who is with the East India Company says that there is similar chafing in the Subcontinent."

"I would say that such chafing often comes to nothing, but Ireland will dispel us of that fantasy. If war comes to Europe, it will not help us to have any kind of civil unrest."

"Let us hope war does not come. The waste of lives, the disruption of families. I would not wish to go away to war, certainly not now."

"I understand, Strallan. Although, war also allows for profitable investments, infrastructure. There is an arms race surrounding us, and we may have to bow to the inevitable."

"You make a good point, Grantham, but I hope the Lord spares us from it."

"Amen, Amen. Till then, a focus on the joys that the season may bring us."

"Indeed. Is your mother not coming up this summer?"

"She will be here next week. Isobel and Mama will drive up. I can't wait, they are bringing Isis with them. Well, I have entrusted Isis to the chauffeur, Branson, and he is driving the ladies."

Mr. Matthew Crawley and Lady Edith Strallan:

"How are you finding work, Matthew? Is it very different from your work as a lawyer?"

"Not too different. Quite a lot of paperwork and reports. Charles and I will be on a tour of estates in Scotland in August, so that we can collect some empirical information for the policy proposals we are drafting. I'm sure it all sounds dull to you. How is your column?"

"it doesn't sound so very dull. I am taking a little summer break from my column, the editors are very kind to allow me this flexibility."

"Ah, well I hope you go back to it. I particularly enjoyed your thoughts on the women's movement, although I don't think Mary did."

"I am surprised Mary reads my column. Speaking of Mary, I overheard her telling Papa that you have settled on a house. Why aren't you just staying here?"

"We wanted something of our own. It's also a little tricky for us to be claiming this house as our continued residence when your parents have first rights to it for whenever they are in London. We'd rather like a separate life until we have to shoulder the burdens, as it were. Besides, property is always a good investment and we decided that Mary's share of your Grandfather's trust would be most advantageously used in that way. Who knows, in twenty years' time our bachelor son may use it as his London stomping grounds."

" Quite. When do you move?"

"As soon as the season ends. Mary will be at her leisure to set up the house in August, before joining me at your Uncle Shrimpie's for the customary Scotland trip."

" How jolly. We're coming up too. Anthony's looking forward to the Ghillies Ball."

As the ladies rise for the end of dinner, Edith walks over to her husband and places a hand on his shoulder

"Listen everyone, we wanted to make an announcement. Well, an announcement for my sisters, really. We are expecting to welcome a little Strallan at Christmas time."

"Oh Edith! How simply marvellous!", said Sybil walking across the room to kiss her sister on the cheek.

"Indeed. Many congratulations, Anthony and Edith. Barrow, won't you bring a bottle of champagne to the drawing room?", said Mary, quite genuinely.

Xx

Her sincerity was not missed by her husband. As they got into bed that night, he pulled her to him and gave her a long, sweet kiss.

"I was very proud of your generosity towards Edith tonight."

"I am happy for her. She has made no secret of wanting a baby. Although, with those two for parents, it's sure to be a boring little thing."

"Don't be unkind, Mary. Not when I have just rejoiced over your charity."

"Matthew, darling, it is not for my charity that you love me. It is for my verve and spirit. Come closer, I feel as if I haven't seen you properly today. How was your day?"

"Long and busy. I had luncheon with Reggie Swire, he has asked me to look over some investment contracts for him. He is an estimable man and I am very fond of him."

"As you were of his daughter, not too long ago?"

"This feels like a trap."

"Not at all. But darling you work so very hard. Even on the weekends, you have Downton on the brain. Try to take some time for a little fun."

"And what would you propose for a little fun?"

"All sorts of things.", said Mary, and, drawing him to her, she spent the rest of the night capably demonstrating to him exactly the sort of fun she had in mind.