It was late that evening, and the sitting-room was half empty. The Dowager Countess had gone home and Lord Grantham had gone up to bed, when Edith came in. Being the first time she had been in the company of Matthew after he found out Edith had been the anonymous snitch, she immediately avoided eye-contact.
Though she felt no guilt when it came to the row with Mary, she did feel disappointed with herself when she thought of how awkward she had made things between herself and Matthew. She couldn't help feeling that he didn't deserve it. Though Mary got what was coming, Matthew had always been amiable towards her, though his wife must have told him enough to want to detest her very presence in any room. He had always been the one who displayed the most interest at Edith taking up the magazine column, he could be seen as more supportive than Robert on most occasions.
For that Edith did feel quite ashamed, but nothing else could be said of her remorse for her misdoings towards her elder sister.
"Hello sweetheart, I've hardly seen your face all day," Cora smiled.
"Oh... have I been so absent? Sorry for that," she sighed, and sat down opposite her mother with her usual dryness.
"Don't be," Mary said derisively, and hardly standing a flat moment in Edith's presence, she got up to go to bed as well. "Are you coming darling?"
"In a moment," Matthew nodded.
"What a shame, I'm so tired from organising the house party for this weekend with Mrs Hughes, I can hardly keep my eyes open long enough for a conversation," Cora said guiltily.
"Don't tire yourself out for us," Matthew urged kindly.
"Oh, thank you my dear, I really think I should go up."
That left him alone with Edith.
"...I expect she's told you, hasn't she?"
"What?" Matthew's eyebrows jumped, train of thought interrupted after several moments of silence.
"Mary."
"Oh... you mean that it was you who sent that letter to the house the day before our engagement?"
"I'm sorry that you've been dragged into this feud, you don't deserve it. I don't know what it is with us... Sometimes I don't even know why we're like this." Edith shook her head with a sour despair.
"Can't you forget everything, it makes me mad seeing you two unable to remember why you're so bitter at each other, but fighting it out endlessly. Most siblings grow out of it," Matthew closed his eyes disbelievingly.
"You see... I was just about to feel we'd reached civil waters when this information from years ago gets to Mary, and she comes back to me with such longing for a fight."
"You must understand what you did? That wasn't a small stain on a dinner gown, and I hear you didn't rise to the accusation with much remorse."
"You see I could remember the very thing Mary did that day to make do such a thing and send that letter to your door."
"You remember you remember you remember! If you can't forgive, at least forget and say sorry yourself." Matthew suggested with vehemence.
"How could I say that? How could I say anything, no matter if it's genuine, she would just look at me with that hateful, aloof disregard. Oh, Mary doesn't forgive. You should know."
"Well if that's what it takes," He shook his head in light determination. "I'll just have to be a jumped-up do-gooder and forgive you myself. Then perhaps you could put an end to your petty battles. I'm afraid I don't take sides, even if my wife is a side, I believe that this all started from when you were so young you couldn't possibly work out who is in the fault - and I hate the way it continues."
"...You're your mother's son, you know. Thank you." Edith said in an unexpected happiness. In a way this did make her feel much lighter.
Matthew grinned dolefully. After that evening, the man wilfully ignored Sir Anthony's request and stayed at the Abbey on Thursday afternoon, hoping things would now settle down between the sisters if Edith at least, could see reason enough.