The Downstairs was early to rise. Even while there was a war on, they were constantly reminded that they couldn't stop. Daisy seemed a little distracted from last night. She had gone up to see Mr. Crawley, to thank him for trying to keep William safe, it was the least he could have done. But he wouldn't or couldn't respond. He had just lied there in a blank state. She couldn't stop thinking about it or talking about it.
"It's because Lady Mary probably didn't want nothing to do with him." Daisy addressed the other servants as she tried to multitask. "Poor Mr. Crawley. He wouldn't be like that if she hadn't turned him away. Now he's going to get worse and he could die of a broken heart. Then she'll be sorry."
"He was the one who turned her away. No one is going to die." Miss Patmore said. "Enough with your fanciful romance tales and get back to work."
"I am working." Daisy said as she hastily scrubbed the dishes that seemed to keep staking up, and it wasn't even noon yet.
"It's always poor everyone else. It's never poor Ethel is it?" All heads turned in her direction.
"Your soldier dying isn't the same." Daisy told her. "Sneaking off, probably seeing someone else. You've forgotten him already."
"Daisy!" Miss Hughes said, scandalized.
"All I can say is I think it would be an insult to William if I fell in love with another man if he was barley cold in his grave."
"That's quite enough." The housekeeper was appalled, growing impatient.
"It's alright Miss Hughes. I'm used to taking the hint when I'm not wanted. If you'll excuse me, I have my duties to attend to." She turned to go to the stairs but turned back around, "he's most likely to die from infection than anything else. But I'm sure that won't happen since he's got the best possible care."
"How would you know all that?" Miss Patmore asked with surprise.
"I listen." With that Ethel continued on her way. She saw Lady Edith crying in the hallway, most likely over Mr. Crawley. Ethel would have comforted her if it wasn't inappropriate, or if it wasn't such a hard emotion for her to display. She dodged out of sight on her way to the library.
"Alright. The show is over." Miss Hughes said to the others. "All of you go back to your duties. All except for …"All the servants halted, standing to attention, "you Daisy." She patiently added.
The relieved servants went off to do their morning duties as Daisy looked down at the floor, feeling guilty.
"Can you tell me what's on your mind?"
"I can't help it if I miss William. I can't sleep from crying most nights. I don't know what to do with myself without him."
"We all miss him." Miss Hughes said. "And I know you targeted your anger at her because she's not the easiest person to get along with, but that is no excuse. I want you to apologize. No matter how unpleasant someone might seem, we don't know what they've been through."
"Alright, I'll apologize to Lady Mary."
Miss Hughes sighed. "I meant Ethel."
Daisy didn't find her in the library, which she was always schedule to tidy. If she searched all over and still couldn't find her, she would have no excuse to apologize.
Well, I tried then.
Turning to leave, she suddenly stopped, thinking that she had heard crying, coming from the closet. It could be no one else but Ethel.
A few inches away, Ethel was re-reading the telegraph about her soldier. Daisy was about to turn away again. No, I have to do the right thing. Just before she could open the door, Ethel burst out.
"What are you lookin at? What do you want?"
"I'm really sorry for the way I acted Ethel."
"I got work to do." She shoved past the young girl and started with her delayed chores.
"Truly I am. I was just that I'm grieving and I projected my anger on to you. I knew it wasn't fair or right."
Ethel continued to dust as if she hadn't heard her.
"Miss Hughes wants to see you after your duties are done." With that Daisy bustled out of the room.
They didn't know her or what she'd been through. Ethel thought as she descended the stairs to the servants hall. To be on the verge of poverty or go hungry. She had been born to Irish immigrant parents. They had died of cholera when she was really young and had was taken in by her father's relatives that already lived in England. To have said they had treated her unfairly, would be an understatement. They had become successful and looked down on the lower class from once they had come. She was stuck with the worst of the chores and was stuck with taking care of the younger children. They didn't know the situation she got herself in. She was at least two months with child, she was sure of it.
"You know why I called you down here? It's about this morning. Daisy's behavior is not to be excused as much as yours..."
"Miss Hughes, I was thinking of handing in my notice."
"Miss Hughes asked her if it had to do anything with her and Daisy's disagreements.
"No, ma'am. I just think it's time I moved on from here to where I'm appreciated."
"Very well, then. I wish the best of luck to you."
Ethel returned to Downton, a few months later, desperate and four months pregnant, not knowing what to do. She turned to Miss Hughes.
"I've gotten myself into a situation."
But she was turned out. She found herself walking aimlessly. No one would want to hire a pregnant prostitute. It probably wasn't her soldiers baby, but there was a possibility. Having found herself destitute, unable to find a job, she had had no other choice.
She could take a bus, somewhere, anywhere but she did not know if she would have enough. The light in the window of one the houses drew her attention, recognizing it as Crawley House. Mrs. Crawley is a nurse, she remembers. She'd know what to do.