As the car was driven slowly through the rain, one could feel the tenseness in the air. In the front, Mr. Barrow, Mr. Crewe, and Edward were crowded together; Sybil wondered how the three fit, especially with Mr. Crewe and his bulky build. In the back, Marigold, George, Sybil, and her grandfather were packed together. Sybil, who was seated next to her grandfather, felt her grandfather's arm against her drenched coat sleeve. They were all silent. Her grandfather remained motionless as he stared out the window. Out of the corner of her eye, Sybil could see George making slight glances toward Donk to see if there were any signs of anger radiating off of him. Edward even made haste glances to the back of the car to see. Marigold rested her head on Sybil's shoulder and said nothing.
Downton soon was in view of everyone, and a wave of relief swept over the three cousins in the back of the car. When the car was stopped and park, George threw the car door open without waiting for Mr. Barrow to open the door for him. He stepped out and helped Marigold out of the car. Sybil slid out of the car next and into the pouring rain. Donk, prepared with an umbrella, got out of the car and stared at his three grandchildren.
"Do not think that I will not talk to you three about all this. Go get changed and then meet me in the drawing room," Donk ordered, seeming taut.
"Yes, Donk," Marigold said and began to go inside with her cousins.
"And, you, Mr. Trent. I want to speak to you, as well. But right now. Come inside," Sybil heard Donk say. She turned around to see Edward, giving her grandfather a vacant stare. The color had left his face and he was clearly nervous.
"Of course, Lord Grantham," he said with a curt nod and walked toward the door.
"Good luck," Sybil whispered to him as she left toward the staircase. She could not imagine what her grandfather would want to speak to Edward about. Was he now going to be sent away? Did Donk not approve of his affections for her, is there were any? Or did he think Edward was a bad influence on George? She did not know. But the questions were soon forgotten as she entered her room. Her new focus was on what Donk was going to talk to them about. She knew they were to be scolded, but how severely? Would there be consequences? She had only been at Downton for a few days and already and she and her cousins seemed to be causing trouble, not on purpose, of course.
Sybil removed her drenched coat and shrugged her damp dress off. A chill ran up her spine and she shook her head, allowing the clips in her hair to fall at her feet. A quiet knock sounded at her door and a maid came in with towels.
"Hello, Miss Sybil. I brought you some towels and am here to pick up your wet clothes," the maid smiled.
"Oh, yes, thank you," Sybil said, taking the towel and patting it on her face and arms.
"Your newly clean clothes are hung up now," the maid said, picking up Sybil's wet clothes and going to the door.
Sybil said her thanks and the maid left her alone in her room. Sybil took a simple dark green blouse and skirt from her wardrobe. Once she was dressed again, she pinned her damp hair back and slipped on a pair of short heels. She checked her appearance in the mirror and then left her room. Marigold was not waiting by the staircase, nor George, so Sybil thought that they must be in the drawing room already. She slowly walked toward the drawing room and heard the familiar voices of her aunts, uncles, and father from the library. At least they were nearby, she thought.
When she entered the drawing room, she saw Marigold, in a new light pink dress, and George, with horribly messy wet hair, in a new shirt and trousers. His face was flushed from either agitation or the cold weather.
"Donk's not here yet," Marigold said to Sybil, patting the empty space on the sofa next to her.
"We're in a decent amount of trouble, aren't we?" Sybil asked quietly as she sat next to her cousin.
"I can't imagine why, though," George said, standing and going to the fireplace to warm his hands. "We really didn't do anything wrong."
"Yes but- I hear footsteps! George, sit down!" Marigold begged, waving her hand at him. As George ran back to the sofa, Donk entered the room, alone, and closed the door behind him. "George, you know that we never run in the house," Donk said as he stood before them.
"I'm sorry," George said. Sybil could see her cousin becoming that little boy he once was in Donk's presence.
Donk took a deep breath before speaking again. "I… I understand that you think I am quite furious with you three."
"Aren't you?" Marigold asked sheepishly.
"Yes," Donk answered. "But not so furious. For one, I was quite upset that my grandchildren were nowhere to be found when it began to rain outside. This is a heavy rain, and I did not enjoy the idea of my grandchildren being out in this weather. Luckily, your mother, Marigold, told me that you had gone to the village. And when I understood that the car had broken down, I knew that it wasn't your fault, nor Mr. Crewe's fault, not anyone's fault," Donk explained as he took a seat on the sofa in front of them. "I became angry because I thought that George had left to enlist without saying a word. I was told you were at Grantham Arms but I really thought you had gone originally to enlist just to spite me."
"I would never deceive you, Donk. I don't think any of us would," George said and looked at his cousins, who nodded in agreement.
"No, I don't know why I thought you all world and I'm sorry that I had you all worried. I just needed time to calm myself. But, anyway, I do not want to discuss that anymore." Donk frowned. "I want to discuss something of a much greater importance. But, first, I shall start by asking you all a question. Children, do you know that I love you more than anything in this world?"
"Of course, Donk," Sybil said with a small smile. "You've given us so much."
"Donk, we know you love us," Marigold nervously laughed. "We don't have to be asked."
"I know you love us, Donk," George nodded. "And we love you too… Even if we -well, I - do not show it all the time."
"And I, George. Displays of affection do not come easy for me, as you know. But I hope that you have felt that I have given you love and shown you three the affection that grandchildren deserve from their grandfather."
"You have, Donk," Sybil said.
"That is a relief," Donk smiled. "You three are the future of Downton. I am getting older by the day and I don't want to leave you three with a tarnished image of me. I want you to be able to tell your children only good things about me."
Marigold nodded. "And then they shall ask why on earth we called you 'Donk'!"
Sybil laughed. "My fault. I don't remember where I got that from."
"Pin the tail on the donkey," George chuckled.
"Oh! Yes, that's right," Sybil laughed.
Their grandfather grinned. "I have become fond of the name over the years. You were always such a silly and smart little girl, Sybil," he said. "Now, I also want to apologize, especially to George, about the way I behaved during dinner last night."
George shook his head. "Oh, Donk, it's al-"
"It is not alright, George. It was ungentlemanly of me. I should not have behaved that way, especially in front of you three and our guest, Mr. Trent. But, George, what I said about war was true. It is a destructive and terrible thing, especially now with all of our advanced weaponry. It's not the same as when I was fighting. I know you have that brave fighting spirit within you, George. However, I do not think it wise to restrict a young man from wanting to find his purpose and wanting to help his country. I must say, George, that when you announced you wanted to enlist, you can imagine that, as a grandfather, I felt fear for allowing you to go and risk your life."
"Yes, Sir," George said.
"But, if it weren't for my fear becoming anger, I would have shown you how proud I was, and still am," Donk gave George a small smile. "George, I am proud of you. I am proud of you wanting to defend your country. I love you very much and I cannot stop you from doing what your heart is telling you to do. George, you have my blessing and permission to enlist."
Sybil and Marigold gasped as George stood up. "Donk, really?" He asked.
"Really, George," their grandfather said with a genuine smile.
"Thank you, Donk!" George said, running to his grandfather and hugging him. There was the young boy again. The two embraced tightly as Sybil and Marigold watched, smiles on their faces from watching the heartfelt scene.
"Of course, I do not enjoy the fact that my only grandson will be sent off to fight. In my eyes, you've always been that charming and handsome little boy; but, now, I see that you've become a charming and handsome young man. I need to accept that you have grown up and life is just waiting to be discovered by you, by all of you. In life, you shall make mistakes, but the good things you do and your victories will always outweigh the mistakes, no matter what they are. Having my children and seeing my grandchildren grow up have been the greatest victories and good in my life."
Marigold wiped her eyes with the back of her hand while Sybil put her arm around her with a teary smile.
"I love you, Donk. I only want to make you proud," George said.
"I love you too, my boy, and you have made me proud," Donk said as George returned to the sofa. "I love all of you," he continued. "The three of you have made me immensely proud. You each have grown up into such wonderful young adults, each with your own unique talents and traits."
"Thank you, Donk," Marigold said with a bright smile.
"Marigold, my little flower, you have grown into a beautiful young woman with a tremendous talent for writing. You shall have your books published and on the shelves, I'm sure," Donk said.
"Oh, Donk," Marigold blushed. "I hope so. You'll receive all my first copies! Autographed too."
"I appreciate that. You also have a love for laughter and life, as well as an incredibly good heart and youthful soul," Donk smiled and turned towards Sybil. "And you, Sybbie. You are my first grandchild and you shall always have a special place in my heart."
"Hey," George smirked.
Sybil stuck her tongue out at George playfully and looked at Donk.
"Just a minute, George," Donk said, rolling his eyes with a laugh. "Sybbie, you have your mother's soul and heart, it seems, but you are so unique. You're caring, selfless, and loving. You are going to make a difference in many lives someday."
"Thank you so much, Donk," Sybil smiled, blinking the tears away. Donk kissed her hand and looked at George. "And finally, George, my only grandson. You are brave, loyal, quite funny, and very stubborn, but not as stubborn as I was, thank goodness."
"Almost?" George smirked.
"Almost," Donk nodded. "Your bravery can also affect others, George. If you are to enlist and go to defend our country, I know your humor shall be a source of light when the others have lost hope."
"I do hope so, Donk. I want to make people happy. I want to make a difference."
"You shall, George. The three of you shall make a difference, whether it be big or small, we shall be proud of you. And I know, Sybil, that your mother, and Marigold, your father, and George, your father, are all looking down upon you and are feeling so proud of you three." The grandchildren became quiet and even more tears began to fall, even George began to shed a few tears. "The parents that you were not able to really meet were wonderful people," Donk began to say, becoming emotional. "Each had their own qualities that made your mothers and father love them. You children are our legacy, and we all couldn't be happier and thankful for the three of you."
Sybil stood, went to her grandfather and hugged him tightly. She sobbed into his coat. "I love you, Donk. Thank you." Marigold followed and hugged Sybil and her grandfather. "I love you!" she happily cried.
Lastly, George, the tallest of them all, completed the embrace and hugged all three of them. "My eyes sting," he laughed.
"Those are called tears, George," Marigold giggled. "You wouldn't know what they are cause you're a heartless brute." George scoffed in reply.
"You three are so funny," Donk chuckled. He kissed the girls on the heads and hugged George again. "Now, go and rest before dinner."
"Yes, Donk!" Marigold happily bounced out of the room with George and Donk following behind.
"Wait, Donk," Sybil said, walking behind him. "What did you tell Edward Trent before you came into the drawing room?"
Donk stopped walking and turned toward her. "I told him not to worry and that he wasn't in trouble nor were you three. I apologized to him, as well, for dinner last night. I also told him that he seems like a kind and honest man. I thanked him for his friendship toward you and George."
Sybil smiled. Thank goodness he did not get scolded, and thank goodness that her grandfather thought him to be a good man.
Content and feeling wonderfully relieved, Sybil began to hum as she walked toward the grand staircase, where Edward was seated and reading a book.
"What are you doing sitting on the step?" Sybil asked. "We have hundreds of chairs here."
Edward looked up and smiled. "Just reading," he said as he stood.
"What are you reading?"
"Oh, it's The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. I found it in the library," Edward said, holding out the book to her. "Have I told you that I enjoy reading?"
Sybil looked at the book. "Ah, yes, I believe George read that. And no, you haven't told me that you enjoy reading. I enjoy reading, as well, when I have the time."
"It's fantastic to read. Enough about this, how did it go with your grandfather?"
"Oh, it went wonderfully. It was all quite emotional, as well, I'm sure my face looks dreadful from crying. It's all happy tears, though."
"That's wonderful, Sybil. He told me some nice things too. He said I seemed like a good man and a good friend to you and George."
"I'm so happy, Edward," Sybil smiled. She glanced up at the staircase and then back to Edward. "Well, I am going to rest before dinner. I shall see you then." Sybil smiled at him and began to go up the staircase while Edward responded: "until then."
The atmosphere during dinner was a much more cheerful one. Jokes were told across the table, and Aunt Mary was having a laughing fit. Sybil's father was enjoying listening to George tells stories of his childhood while Aunt Edith would say something clever and humorous. Sybil's father, along with her aunts and uncles, and grandmother had heard what Donk said to the three in the drawing room, and although they did not want to say anything about it, they were immensely proud of Donk for telling the children what they needed to hear. Seeing the smiling and laughing faces of her family seated around her made Sybil feel so joyful, but the thought of war kept creeping up on her and followed her into a deep nightmarish sleep that night.
In the early morning, just before dawn, Sybil awoke from a nightmare and sat up in bed, quietly sobbing. Her face was damp with both sweat and tears. She sighed and fell back onto her pillow, kicking the covers off of her. Her dreams had been filled with loud booms and explosions like she had seen in movies. Stories from The Great War and the Civil War that she had heard in school played through her dreams as if it were a film reel. She heard men, women, and children screaming and saw shadows running about around her. She had to wake herself from the destruction she was witnessing and she was relieved that she did. She slid out of her hot bed and went to the window. The sky was a deep blue, but the horizon line was beginning to fade to orange. It was a beautiful sight, but not enough to wipe away the images in her head. She ran her fingers through her damp hair and went to the bedside table to wash her face in the water-filled basin.
After she quickly wiped her face, she looked up, and before her was a small frame that she was given with photograph of her mother. She instantly felt comfort seeing her mother's smile but she was also saddened when she began to imagine her mother comforting her. "Mother?" She quietly whispered to the portrait. "The world scares me, Mother. I am so happy here at Downton but I know it won't last. There's a war happening," she sighed. "I don't want George to go to fight, and I don't want to leave Marigold, Papa, Donk or anyone behind, but I have to do something with myself. I think you felt the same way." Sybil took the photograph in her hands. "You were so beautiful, Mother. I wish I could have met you and remembered… I wish I knew what your voice sounded like. Does my voice sound like yours? Was your voice beautiful and full of love? I wish I knew how it felt to be held by you. I wish I knew you." Sybil quaked and sat on her bed, wondering why she was being so emotional. It had been a happy day, but the reality of the world seemed to overpower it all. "I miss you, Momma." Sybil cried into her hands until she realized that she had forgotten to do something that she should have done upon arriving to Downton. She quickly got up and went to her wardrobe, wiping her tears away with one hand as she opened the wardrobe with the other. She dressed herself in a black dress and put on her coat. She braided her hair, pinned it up, and searched for shoes quietly.
Everyone seemed to still be asleep so she tiptoed down the stairs. When she left the staircase, she saw a faint light coming from the library. Someone was awake, as well. But who? She slowly walked over and poked her head into the room. Her father was standing before the window, already dressed for the day.
"Papa?" She asked quietly, so as not to startle him. He turned and Sybil saw the surprise on his face through the dim light.
"Sybil? Darling, what are you doing up? You're supposed to be asleep and in bed."
"I couldn't sleep," Sybil admitted.
Her father tilted his head slightly. "Neither could I. Nightmare?"
Sybil nodded and hugged herself. "Of war," she said and she joined his side. Her father put his arm around her and kissed her head. "I'm sorry, Sybbie."
Sybil shook her head and gently leaned against him. "What did you dream about, Papa? Bad things?"
"No," he sighed. "I dreamt of your mother. It was a beautiful dream, actually. We were sitting together on the porch of our home in America. You were riding your bicycle around the house and waving to us as you passed by. You looked like you did when you were about ten years old."
Sybil's sighed and tried to imagine it. "I wish it would have been that way."
"I know, darling," her father whispered. "Why are you all dressed as though you're going out? And why are you wearing a black dress?" He asked.
Sybil rubbed her eyes. "I was going to go visit her. Come with me, Papa, please."
Her father sadly smiled and nodded. "I will." He walked over to a vase and took a pink tulip from the flower arrangement. "No one will notice," he lightly chuckled. Sybil smiled and soon, father and daughter walked away from Downton, arm in arm, to the cemetery of St. Michael and All Angels.
When they arrived at the cemetery, daylight had begun to illuminate the world around them. The grass was dewy, and the bells of the chapel began to chime the hour. Sybil and her father soon were standing before the grave of Sybil Cora Branson. "Hello, Mother," Sybil whispered as she knelt down in front of the headstone, not caring about getting her dress wet from the dew. Her father placed his hand on her shoulder. Tears began to fall from Sybil's face as she placed the tulip before the tomb. She heard her father steady his breathing as if he were trying not to cry.
"I know she isn't here, Papa. Her body is, but not her. Not her soul. Her soul is elsewhere," Sybil said. "She's an angel, isn't she?"
"A beautiful angel that is always watching over us, Sybbie," her father said.
Sybil smiled softly at the thought and her eyes welled up with tears. "I wish I would have known her, Papa. Everyone speaks of her in such wonderful ways and I'm so jealous that I wasn't there to have wonderful things to say about her, as well. George and Marigold both have mothers, why couldn't I have you and her?" She sobbed.
"Darling, but George and Marigold never got a chance to meet their fathers either. They must feel the same way you do," her father said in a soothing voice.
"I know I'm lucky to have you, Papa. Sometimes I feel like she's gone because of me. She would still be alive if it weren't for me," Sybil sobbed.
"Sybbie!" Her father immediately knelt down beside his daughter and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sybil had felt this all her life and she used to have crying fits about it when she was younger and found out the cause of her mother's death. It broke her father's heart every time.
"I've told you, my darling," her father said, "you did nothing to cause her death. Do you know how happy we were when we found out you were going to be born? Yes, we were scared at first of being parents because we were young and newly married, but we were so excited. We wanted to give you the best life possible."
"And you have given me the best life, Papa," Sybil said, resting her head on her father's shoulder as she did when she was a little girl.
"Your mother and I would stay awake for hours into the night just talking about the wonderful things you would have. We would speak of taking our baby all over Ireland and going on little trips with you. Your mother even wanted to learn how to sew so that she can make our children clothes. We had dreams for you, darling. I tried my best to do what your mother wanted," her father said quietly. "When you were born, your mother wouldn't look away from you. She was enchanted by you, just as I was."
Sybil smiled against her father's shoulder.
"All she wanted was for you and me to be accepted into the family. I've told you how I was rejected at first by her family, haven't I?"
Sybil nodded.
"She died knowing that you and I were going to be loved and accepted by her family. She told that to your grandmother, Cora. I miss your mother so much, as well, Sybbie. She was my love and my life. That is why I named you after her. The first moment I laid eyes on you, you too became my love and life. You were my little girl and you had me by my heart, just as your mother did. I could never give anyone else in the world the love I have for you and your mother," her father said. Sybil pulled away slightly and looked up at her father, who was also crying.
"I love you, Papa," she smiled through her tears. "You've given me such a wonderful life and have raised me to be the person I am today all on your own."
"I love you too, darling," he smiled back. "I sometimes wondered if I should have ever remarried so that you can have a woman in your life to give you advice and be a role model to you."
Sybil shrugged her shoulders. "Would you have been happy, Papa?"
"I thought I would be… But I realized that no one was going to make me as happy as your mother did. Also, I think I was doing alright with you on my own," he laughed.
Sybil giggled. "I think you did alright, Papa. You still are. I probably wouldn't have been truly happy with another woman in our house. I would have taken a baby toad from the lake and put it on her pillow."
Her father let out a hearty laugh. "You would have! You were quite the little trickster as a child," he smiled and looked back at his wife's grave. Sybil smiled and followed his gaze. "Don't ever believe that it was your fault, Sybbie. You were meant to be in our lives and I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world," her father said.
Sybil sighed and stared at the grave. "Do you think she would have enjoyed the things I enjoy?"
"Oh, without a doubt, Sybbie," her father responded. "She would have loved to go to see movies with you, dance with you, sing with you, laugh with you."
"And you did all that with me instead," Sybil smiled.
"Anything and everything for my daughter."
Sybil sighed and touched the etching of her mother's name on the tomb. "Do you think she would have thought Clark Gable handsome too?"
"Probably," her father smirked.
"That'd be funny," Sybil smiled. She then looked at her father. "I'm worried about the future, Papa. The war scares me. Are we even able to return home?"
"Do not worry, Sybbie; and I don't think we can return home for a while. I'll have to see if it is safe to travel," her father said. "You have nothing to be afraid of. The Great War did not reach Downton and nor will this one."
"George wants to fight. You didn't fight, did you, Papa?"
"If George goes to fight, it would be an honor for this family. I could never fight because of my heart murmur. I think the heart murmur was a blessing in disguise, though. If I had gone to fight, there's a chance your mother and I would have never married and you would not exist. It's strange how just one little thing in life can possibly change everything."
"You're right," Sybil said. She wondered if she should tell her father about what Aunt Isobel told her about becoming a nurse. Perhaps she would wait, they were both far too emotional right now, but something inside her was pestering her to tell him, so she went with her gut feeling.
"Aunt Isobel thinks I should become a nurse," she blurted out quickly.
Her father looked at her. "A nurse? Like your mother?"
Sybil nodded in response. "She said I could do a lot of good and change people's lives. I want to help others, Papa."
"You're just like your mother," he sighed. "That's a good thing… But, Sybil, you could possibly be on the front lines, not to mention, a hospital during wartime is filled with gruesome-"
"I think I can handle it, Papa. I'm sure I can with the proper training. If George can do something honorable, I want to as well."
Her father ran his fingers through his hair and thought. "What else did Isobel say?"
"She said she can find me a training hospital. She told me just to think about it and come back to her for advice or help."
"Well," her father said and put his arm around her. "In a couple of days, I'll go with you to talk to her. We can find out more information together. If you want to become a nurse, Sybil, you may become a nurse."
Sybil beamed. "Oh, Papa!" She cried as she hugged him. "Thank you! I love you so much!"
"I love you too," he smiled at his daughter. The years had escaped them both, and his little girl was now a young woman who wanted to venture out into the world and having her mother's spirit, what could he do to stop her?
Sybil shivered suddenly. "Oh! There was a chill," she laughed.
"I think it was your mother," her father smiled. "She supports you following in her footsteps."
Sybil sighed happily and looked at the grave, and then up to the sky. "Thank you, Mother."
Father and daughter sat in front of the grave together for a while longer and watched the sun rise high into the sky, shining through any clouds from the day before and making them forget any cloudy thoughts of war and sadness they had. When the chapel bells chimed in the next hour, the pair left the cemetery and went back to Downton Abbey to join their family for breakfast.
