Sybil spent much of the following morning in her bed. She had taken her time eating her breakfast, still frightened by a nightmare she had that night. She dreamt of being in a grand, almost palace-like, hospital with high ceilings and white marble columns. In her dream, the hospital was empty and she wandered all over the hospital searching for someone to give her directions on where she should go. She saw a figure from upstairs and suddenly found herself in a room filled with empty beds, except one. She could not clearly see who was in the bed, but as she neared it, she recognized the person as George. He had bloodied bandages around his head and arms, and his face was gaunt. Sybil cried out and placed her hand on George's shoulder and lightly shook him. "George?" She had called out his name many times, but his eyes remained closed.

The dream shifted and someone else was now in the hospital with Sybil. She left George's side and walked out into a dark hallway, where she stood alone. From one end of the hallway, she heard footsteps and saw a silhouette of someone walking past the hallway entrance. Going along with where her dream was leading her, Sybil began to walk toward the silhouette and listen for the footsteps. The closer she was, the more the silhouette revealed itself: it was Edward. Sybil felt joy in her heart as she saw that it was him. "Edward, you're here!" Sybil cried. She wanted to ask him what had happened to George and why the hospital was empty, but as she began to speak to him, Edward stared at her with an expressionless gaze. He seemed to be looking through her as if he could not see her there standing before him. She called out his name once more and he continued to walk. Confusion settled within Sybil and she began to follow him, wondering why he couldn't see her. She reached her hand out to grab his hand but as her hand touched his, she felt nothing and neither did he. Sybil watched him and leaned against the wall, defeated. She began to sink down but a voice filled the hall.

"Sybil!" She looked up and saw Marigold standing before her. Tears fell from her eyes and she was sobbing. Sybil kept herself from sinking and straightened her posture.

"Marigold, what's happened?" She asked, desperate for an answer. Marigold remained silent and kept sobbing. The sight broke Sybil's heart and as she went to comfort her cousin, Sybil awoke from the dream. Her eyes were filled with tears as she sat up in bed and held a pillow to herself for comfort. She did not know why she had dreamt a dream such as that one, but it frightened her and she thought of it all morning and all through eating her breakfast.

The dream, Sybil realized, must have been partially influenced by the conversations she had with George and Isobel at her home the previous day. She told George many stories of her time as a nurse during the Boer War. Sybil had already heard the stories before, but she listened as she ate her lunch. The stories remained in her mind without her realizing it and they took over her dreams and brought her cousins and Edward along with them. However, she did not know what the rest of the dream meant; the empty hospital, Edward ignoring her, Marigold crying; they were all nightmarish experiences. She hoped she would never face any of those things in her life, especially seeing George in a hospital bed suffering from injuries. It had seemed so real and now when she went back and thought of the battered image of him, her stomach turned.

When Sybil decided enough was enough and the dream meant nothing, she left her bed and dressed for the day. Today was Friday, and Sybil had promised that she would visit Lucy at the Cottage Hospital. She shuddered; a hospital. She would be living in a hospital after today, and she couldn't let one dream make her fearful of them.

Since this was the last visit she would have with Lucy for a while and she wanted to make it special, Sybil decided it would be perfect to take a book to read to her. She knew Marigold had kept many of the books that used to be read to them as children, so she went to her room to search for them. Marigold, who was lounging in her small settee, was jotting down notes as Sybil entered her room. "Good morning, Marigold," Sybil greeted. Marigold looked up with a smile and stood.

"Good morning," she sang. "I had the most wonderful dream!"

"Oh, what about?" Sybil asked. She did not want to tell Marigold that she ITALICIZE THIS had the most horrible dream.

"You wouldn't understand," Marigold giggled. "They were ideas for my story! I'm writing down what I can remember so that I do not forget when I write."

Sybil nodded with a smile. "Ah, that's a good idea. Marigold, do you still have the Winnie-the-Pooh book that my father used to read to us?"

"I do! Check the bottom shelf over there. I'm sure it's there. That's where I keep all the books from our childhood."

Sybil went to Marigold's bookshelf and knelt down to get a better view of the bottom shelf. She immediately found the faded spine of A.A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh. She took the book from its place and put it in her leather satchel she decided to use for the day. "I found it, Marigold," Sybil said as she stood. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Marigold answered. "What do you need it for?"

"I'm going to the Cottage Hospital to see the little patient I befriended. I'm going to take her the book to read since she always likes to tell stories like you do."

Marigold smiled. "That's sweet. I suppose children in hospitals need stories so that they can feel happy even though they are in a hospital." After Marigold spoke, her eyes lit up as though she had just had an epiphany. "Well, you best get to the hospital then. Oh, and George and I may be horseback-riding later. If you can't find us when you return, just look for us around the grounds," Marigold said, turning the page in her notebook and quickly writing something down.

"Oh, alright," Sybil said as she went to the door. "I'll see you later then." She left Marigold's room and heard the sound of her typewriter not long after.

"Papa, I'm going out to the Cottage Hospital for a while," Sybil said after she greeted her father on the staircase. "Is that alright?"

"It certainly is," her father smiled. "Will you walk or take a car?"

"I think I shall walk," Sybil answered. "I know it's a bit of a distance but I can manage."

"That's fine. Enjoy the day, Sybbie," her father said with a smile. Sybil nodded and smiled reassuringly at him.

"I will, Papa." She left the staircase and soon left Downton Abbey. The morning air felt refreshing as it filled her lungs. As she walked, she wondered what Edward was doing at this moment. He was probably in his home, with his mother, sharing a meal with her, or perhaps he was reading. She found herself smiling as she thought of him. She wished he were with her at this moment, but there was no use wishing, she told herself. At least, he was somewhere where he was safe, though his safety was only temporary.

Once Sybil walked out of Downton Abbey's gates, she became eager to see her friend, Lucy. She could not wait to see the look on her face when she saw the book she brought to read to her. Sybil knew that it would make her happy and leave her with good memories of their few visits until they saw one another again. Sybil hoped that by the time she saw Lucy again, whenever that would be, she would be out of the hospital and would no longer be ill.

Some time later, Sybil reached the Cottage Hospital. As she entered, she debated whether or not she should just find Lucy or ask someone for permission to see her. She chose to find Lucy on her own, since she had been there before to see her and knew which room she was staying in. She went through the hallway and into the room full of beds that were filled with the same patients that had been there when she was last here. The privacy curtains were pulled around most of the beds, even Lucy's, just as it was during the last visit. Sybil approached the curtain around her bed, slowly, so she would not startle her. "Lucy?" She asked quietly. "It's Sybil." There was no answer. Perhaps Lucy did not feel well enough to answer due to her cough, Sybil thought. Sybil then stepped out from behind the curtain and saw that the bed was empty. The white sheets were folded neatly and showed no sign of Lucy being there recently. Fear struck Sybil. She looked away from the bed and then back at it again, as if Lucy would suddenly be there and that this was all a trick of Sybil's mind. Lucy did not appear, however, but Sybil noticed something on the floor, partially under the bed. It was the red ribbon that Sybil had tied into a bow many times for Lucy's stuffed bear. She picked up the red ribbon and held it tightly in her hands. If no one had noticed the red ribbon on the floor by now, it meant that Lucy had not been gone for long. Sybil walked out from behind the curtain in a desperate search for someone who could give her an answer as to where Lucy was.

Before Sybil could leave the room, a young man walked in, pushing a cart full of medicine for the patients. "Excuse me?" Sybil began walking alongside the man as he began administering the medications.

"Yes?" He asked, curious as to why she was in there.

"What happened to the young patient that occupied the bed near the window?" Sybil asked. "Her name was Lucy."

The man looked in the direction of the empty bed and then frowned. "I believe she was taken to another hospital. I wasn't working the night that she was taken, but I heard talk that she became extremely ill in the night and there was nothing we could do for her here."

Sybil's eyes widened. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know, Miss," the man answered. "And I don't know where she was taken to, should you ask. I'm sorry." The man dismissed her and continued on with his work. Sybil stood beside the cart speechless. Lucy was no longer in Downton and Sybil had no idea if she was well or not. She wondered if her parents had gone with her or if Isobel had known about this. If she did know, she did not tell Sybil anything while she was in her home yesterday.

"Thank you," Sybil said to the man quietly. She left the room and went straight to Isobel's office to ask about Lucy. She knocked lightly and paced a bit while she looked up at the lights in the hallway. Minutes passed and there was no answer and no sound from within the office. With a sigh, Sybil opened the office door and peeked in only to find that the lamps were turned off and Isobel was not there. Frustrated, Sybil closed the door and left the hospital.

She stood for a moment on the side of the road, saddened that she did not see Lucy once more before she was transferred to another hospital. The weight of the Winnie-the-Pooh book in her satchel became more apparent when Sybil realized she would not get to share the beloved stories with her. She opened the satchel and placed the red ribbon next to the book, hoping that soon, she would be able to return the ribbon to Lucy.

Sybil walked on and away from Downton Abbey, not wanting to go back just yet. She walked amongst the people of Downton, who were going about their day. She received stares from a few people, who recognized her as Lord Grantham's granddaughter; she smiled kindly at them and continued walking.

Sybil walked past the post office but then returned to it, deciding to pick up Downton Abbey's mail since she was there anyway and it would take her mind off of Lucy. She walked in and went up to the front counter. A little bell was placed out on the counter so Sybil pressed it -causing the room to be filled with a trill- and waited. Seconds later, a man walked out and greeted Sybil. "Hello, Miss! What can I do for you?"

"Hello," Sybil smiled. "Has Downton Abbey's mail been delivered yet?"

"I don't believe so," the man answered her. "Are you a resident there?"

"Yes, I'm the granddaughter of Lord Grantham. I was on an errand and I decided to pick up the mail." Sybil could see that the man was not entirely convinced about her relation to Lord Grantham, which amused her somewhat because there were villagers she had walked by that had recognized her. "My name is Sybil Branson. My father-"

"Ah, Branson! Your father is Tom Branson?" The man asked. "I know him."

"Yes," Sybil answered with a surprised laugh. "Tom Branson is my father."

"Well, I'll check and bring you your mail. Wait just a moment, please."

"Thank you," Sybil said to the man. The man left to check for the mail but returned to the counter when the door opened again. Sybil looked over her shoulder and saw a young man enter. He nodded at her as he saw her and went to the counter.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Abrams," the man behind the counter said. Sybil rested her elbows on the counter and looked at the rolls of stamps available for purchase. Most of them were of the King and Sybil found them fascinating.

"Hello. Just stopping by to see if I have any mail," Sybil heard the young man, Mr. Abrams say. "Anything from Poland?"

Poland? Sybil began to become curious as she listened, hoping that more information would be spoken on this expected mail from Poland. "I'll see if there is," the man from behind the counter said. He disappeared through a door and Sybil was left with Mr. Abrams. She gazed at him and saw that he had a worried look on his face. He looked unfamiliar to her, as well. She felt as though she should say something but did not know what to say.

"I couldn't help hearing," Sybil began, unsure of where this conversation would lead to, "but, you're expecting mail from Poland?"

The man looked at Sybil after she spoke and nodded in response. "Yes, from Poland," he said. "I've been waiting for a letter from someone in there for quite some time."

Because of the newspapers, and the discussions her family would have during dinner, Sybil knew that Poland was being taken over by the Nazis. She wondered for the briefest moment if this man was corresponding with a Nazi and she stepped back slightly. "And no response?" Sybil asked, regretting speaking to him further.

"No," Mr. Abrams frowned. "I pray that she's alright."

"She?" Sybil asked, feeling a bit more relaxed in knowing that perhaps this man was not a Nazi ally.

"Yes, she. I don't know if it's any use in confiding in a stranger, but the girl that I'm in love with is in Poland. I met her while I was teaching there. I want to get her out of there and bring her to England before anything happens. I'm just waiting for her response. I'm not from here, though. I'm staying with a friend and his family before I return to my home in Southampton."

Sybil could see the worry in the man's eyes as he spoke to her. She felt guilty for her assumption that this man was communicating with the Nazis. How silly of you, Sybil! She scolded herself. "I hope you can get her to safety here," she said.

"I have to, but she doesn't want to leave her family. I would gladly help her family but it's not that simple. I'll have to go to Poland again myself and convince her if I don't hear from her soon. I have a feeling that I'll have a letter from her today, though."

"I hope you do," Sybil said to him. "And you shouldn't go to Poland now. The Nazis are there." Sybil was only trying to help but she knew that if this man was truly in love, her words would not change his mind, especially since she did not know him.

"Yes, and I have a terrible feeling that something disastrous is going to happen soon, and I don't want my Freida to be there when it happens, especially because she's…" Mr. Abrams stopped talking, wary of whether he should continue or not. "She's Jewish." He said quickly and looked as though he regretted saying so much.

Sybil understood why he was so fearful now. She had heard only a little of the horrid attacks and murders that took place almost a year ago in Germany that destroyed Jewish buildings and businesses. She remembered seeing the headlines in the newspaper and the shock, along with anger, that she and her father felt toward it all. "You must have hope that she'll be alright," Sybil said quietly. "I hope you and her will get to be with one another again." If she were in this situation with Edward or anyone in her family, words of encouragement from a stranger, after confiding in them, would help her immensely.

"Thank you," Mr. Abrams said. The two smiled softly at one another before the man, who was searching for their mail, walked out from the back door and to the counter. "No mail, Mr. Abrams. I'm sorry."

Sybil saw Mr. Abrams' face drop and his eyes were cast downward in sadness. He looked back up at the man and nodded understandingly. "Come back tomorrow," the man said. "Perhaps there will be something for you then."

"Yes, perhaps," Mr. Abrams said. "Thank you." He turned to leave and looked at Sybil before exiting the office. "Stay safe, Miss," he said to her.

"And you," Sybil replied. "And good luck to you."

Mr. Abrams nodded in thanks to her and walked out the door. He held an expression of sadness as he walked away and Sybil knew that as the war went on, that expression would be one that she would encounter on many people.

"And here is Downton Abbey's mail, Miss Branson."

"Thank you so much," Sybil said as she took the few pieces of mail from the man. She placed them in her satchel and left the post office.

Sybil returned to Downton Abbey emotionally drained. Her entire morning had not been going very well and she wanted to be alone still. She strayed and found herself walking through the grounds of Downton Abbey. Further and further, she went until she stood upon the little bridge on a small creek that her father used to take her to when she was a child. She leaned over the bridge and saw her reflection in the water. Gone was the little girl who used to throw sticks in the water and tell stories with her father; now, a young woman's reflection was present and that young woman was about to leave to become a nurse. She turned away from the water and left the bridge.

Sybil found a large tree that seemed to welcome her to sit underneath it. She gently dropped her satchel onto the grass as she sat down under the tree and leaned against the trunk. While she watched the grass faintly sway in the wind, she stretched her hand out toward and into her satchel; she fumbled her hand around until she felt the coolness of the red ribbon between her fingers. She removed her hand from her satchel and held the ribbon in front of her. "I'm sorry, Lucy," Sybil whispered, wishing there was a way she could see Lucy again. Soon, Sybil thought, when I return to Downton.

When she put the ribbon back, she pulled out the mail she had been given at the post office. There was nothing that seemed to interest her until she saw the last letter. It was addressed to her and it was from the United States. She realized that it must be from her friend, Mae. Not wanting to rip the envelope, Sybil pulled a pin from her hair and began to carefully slide the pin under the envelope fold to open it. "Ha!" Sybil cheered as the fold opened without a tear. Before she could read the letter, however, she heard a familiar voice.

"Sybil, is that you over there?"

Sybil looked up and saw Marigold on a horse in the distance. Sybil placed the pin back in her hair and the letter back in her satchel. "It's me!" She called out with a wave. She picked up her satchel and ran over to her cousin. She saw George coming up on his horse.

"Ah, Sybil! There you are. Marigold said you went out to the Cottage Hospital."

"I did," Sybil answered, patting George's horse gently on its head. "However, it didn't go as planned. My friend, who's a patient there, is very ill and was taken to another hospital."

"Oh, no," Marigold said sadly. "I'm sorry about that."

"Thank you. I just hope she'll be well soon," Sybil sighed.

"I'm sorry, Sybil," George said as he dismounted his horse. "Would you like to join Marigold and I on a glorious ride? You're no longer busy, are you?"As George spoke, Sybil remembered the image of him from her nightmare. She saw the details she didn't want to, from his tattered and bloodied bandages to his gaunt face lightly bruised blue and black in different places. She swallowed back the fear of her cousin ever being in such a state. George must have seen a change in Sybil's expression because he stared back at her with great curiosity. "Sybil? Is everything alright?"

Sybil quickly nodded. "Yes! I'm sorry, I just - I was just distracted by something. Anyway, I would love to ride with you and Marigold."

"Perfect!" George said, happy that there was nothing wrong with his cousin. "Now, I know we don't have a horse for you at the moment, but you wouldn't mind riding with me, would you?"

"No, of course not," Sybil said and pet the horse's side. "If you could just lift me, please?"

George lifted Sybil off of the ground and onto the horse. Once she felt settled, she placed the strap of her satchel around her so that it would not fall. "Alright, George, come on."

"Your horse is going to go so slow now," Marigold teased.

"That is very rude of you to say, Marigold," George said sarcastically to her as he mounted his horse. He was seated in front of Sybil on the horse and looked back at her to make sure she was alright. "Just hold on to me, alright? Don't let go."

Sybil leaned forward and put her arms around her cousin's waist. "I won't," she said. She wished she had her own horse to ride, but holding on to her cousin would have to do for now. "How long have you two been out riding?"

"Not for too long. Aunt Mary did not approve of this but we went anyway," Marigold giggled as the horses began walking.

The cousins rode together all that afternoon. They raced, they laughed, and they retold their favorite childhood memories of each other. The sadness and fear that Sybil had felt during the morning had disappeared during these moments and she kept a smile on her face as they joked with one another. The only time her smile left was when they were returning to Downton Abbey hours later, and she knew that the time she had just spent with her cousins was the last carefree moment the three would have together before she and George left. When they were riding back to the stables late in the afternoon, a heavy rain began to pour and within minutes, the cousins were drenched. The three knew that they were sure to get a scolding from someone as soon as they walked through the doors of Downton Abbey, but they had had a wonderful afternoon, and no one's scolding could spoil it for them.

"I enjoyed that very much," George said as he left the stables with his cousins.

"As did I," Sybil smiled as she felt the contents of her satchel, which were all dry, to her surprise. She held the satchel tightly to herself so that they would remain that way.

"I wish we could have gone to London to go shopping or played a cricket match like I hoped we would; but that was before the war announced and we don't have many people to play cricket with," Marigold shrugged.

"The cricket match!" George exclaimed as he was reminded of it. "That's right. I had challenged you and Sybil. Oh, well. We can play when we're all back at Downton again or until we know eleven people who are willing to play."

"That will never happen," Marigold smirked and then added hastily: "I meant us knowing eleven people who can play cricket would never happen, not us being at Downton together." She then violently shivered and squealed from the wetness of her coat. "I'm going to run inside! I don't know if you two want to run, but it's just the most dreadful feeling to have your clothes be soaked all the way through!"

"And your hair looked like a sad dog's floppy ears," George laughed.

Marigold felt her hair and glared at him. "I forgot to bring a hat. Don't tease me!" She began to run to escape the rain while Sybil and George followed after, quickening their pace.

"Why must you tease her like that?" Sybil giggled as she and George walked together.

"I was only joking. Marigold knows that it's all in good fun, " George smirked. "So, are you alright today, with Edward leaving and all?"

"Yes," Sybil answered quietly. She began to recall memories of dancing with Edward and she had a sudden yearning to see him. "Have you spoken with him today?"

"I spoke with him this morning."

Sybil froze and looked at her cousin. "This morning?" She asked, wondering if she had been home or not. "Was I still here?"

"No, you had just left," George answered. "Do you want to know what he said?"

"Yes!"

George chuckled at his cousin's reaction and began to tell her of his and Edward's conversation on the telephone. "Well, he says that he made it home safely and he is happy to be home. He misses Downton Abbey, though, and he said that he can't stop thinking of you. He really wishes he could us all again soon. Oh, and he loves the book you gave to him. A book full of places to travel to, correct? He looked through it all with his mother last night."

Sybil blushed and looked down at her shoes as she walked. "Yes. I'm glad. Anything else?"

"Oh, he did ask to speak with you but I told him you had gone out."

Sybil groaned. "If only I would have stayed home a few minutes longer. Will he call again tonight?" What would she say to him if they were able to speak? She wondered if it would even be a good idea to speak with him again since it would be difficult to say goodbye just as it had been yesterday.

"I'm afraid not," George admitted. "He said he's not going to be home for the rest of the day but he said he would be in touch with you, if possible, but not anytime soon, he thinks, especially since you're leaving."

"Well, that's alright," Sybil said. "I know that you two will be very busy once you start training."

George nodded and the two walked in silence for a few moments before George stopped walking and looked to be in distress. Sybil, now concerned, lightly touched her cousin's arm and looked up at him with questioning eyes. "George? Are you well?"

"I'm well," George sighed and looked at her. "It's just that, I had an odd dream last night and I-I don't want to think about it." George continued to walk, leaving Sybil behind in the rain.

"What about?" She asked as she caught up to him.

"It's nothing."

"Oh, come now, George," Sybil said, urging him to tell her. "You can't have a dream that lingers on your mind the entire day and tell me that it is nothing; believe me, I-"

"You were in my dream but I couldn't see you."

Sybil blinked and tilted her head in confusion. "I don't understand."

George, annoyed now at himself for bringing up the subject, stopped to tell Sybil exactly what had happened in his dream. "I was somewhere, I don't know where I was, but everything was destroyed. I kept hearing you screaming for help and every time I would think I was nearing you, your voice would be elsewhere."

Sybil remained silent as she listened and wondered if she should tell George her dream of him, as well. Would it be wrong of me to do so?

"And it was a terrifying feeling," George continued, "because I thought it was real and that you were in danger. All I want is my family to be safe and if any of you were ever in danger and I couldn't help, I don't know what I'd do!" George hesitated to finish his sentence due to the fact that he was forcing tears back and trying to keep his composure.

Sybil, who did not mind that she was now more drenched than ever from the rain, decided to quickly tell George about her dream. "I dreamt a terrifying dream, as well," she said. George gave her a curious expression and she continued. "I was in an empty hospital. There was a room full of empty hospital beds and you were in one. You had bandages all over you and you looked so different. So-" a tear fell down Sybil's face but she quickly wiped it away with her wet coat sleeve. "It was dreadful. Edward was also in my dream but he wouldn't speak to me and Marigold was just there weeping."

George immediately held his cousin and the two embraced. "The dreams mean nothing, Sybil," he said softly.

"Then why do we think of them so much and why are they both nightmares?"

"I don't know," she heard George said with a light chuckle. "Maybe it's because we're family and we just want each other to be safe. My grandmother's stories must have frightened us."

"I just don't want to lose any of you," Sybil said, gently pulling away from her cousin to dry at her eyes.

"And I don't want to lose any of you, either," George sighed, wiping his face with the back of his coat sleeve. "Ugh, this war is making us all act absurd, isn't it? What is it that word Americans say? Sappy! We've become sappy!"

Sybil could not help but laugh. "I'm afraid we've all been a bit sappy." A sudden powerful boom of thunder sounded from above them, which prompted the cousins to sprint back to Downton.

"Ah, run! It's the Nazis!" George teased as he and Sybil began to run together.

"George! That's not funny," Sybil scolded with a wry smile.

"I'm sorry," George chuckled. "But I don't want to get struck by lightning so hurry!"

George and Sybil ran into Downton Abbey, leaving a puddle of water wherever they went. Mary was already by the staircase with a stern look on her face. "Look at the two of you!" She cried as she saw how soaked her son and niece were. "Marigold is already upstairs trying to get dry."

"We won't get ill from this, Mother. Don't worry," George said as he was catching his breath.

"Yes, well, Sybil has to leave tomorrow to a hospital and if she goes there ill, they won't let her in," Aunt Mary said. Sybil's father appeared soon and held back laughter at the sight of Sybil and George.

"I recommend you both dry off immediately," he said.

"I agree," Mary said. She eyed George and raised a brow at him. "Go, George."

"Yes, Mother," George said and quickly went upstairs. Aunt Mary sighed and left to the drawing room, leaving Sybil and her father together by the staircase.

Sybil looked at him. "I feel as though I've barely seen you all day, Papa."

"That's because you haven't," her father smiled. "How did everything go?"

"Not as planned," Sybil told him. "I couldn't visit at the hospital because Lucy wasn't there. Oh, and I went to the post office, Papa." Sybil reached into her satchel and pulled out the dry letters. "There was a letter from Mae, so I'm going to read it in my room, later."

"Oh, wonderful," her father said as he took the letters. "I'll give these to your grandfather right away. We were beginning to wonder why we hadn't received any mail."

"Oh, sorry," Sybil smiled shyly. "I was a bit bored and in need of a distraction so I went to fetch the mail." Sybil remembered the young Mr. Abrams, who was waiting for a letter from a woman in Poland. She kept the memory to herself and just smiled at her father. "I should go upstairs and dry myself off," she said as she stepped onto the first staircase step. "Or, actually," she began, "I think I may have a bath instead."

Her father nodded. "That sounds refreshing. A nice hot bath, Sybil. Once your done, dinner will most likely be close to being served."

"Oh, good. I am quite hungry," Sybil said and left to her room. Before going to take a bath, Sybil decided to read Mae's letter first. She removed her drenched coat and hung it to dry. She put her satchel down and sat down on the bed with it before she took Mae's letter and began to read.

September 10, 1939

September 10th was Sunday, Sybil thought. It was now September 15th and so much had already changed for Sybil since Sunday.

Dear Syb,

Sybil was caught by surprise as she saw her shortened name. She remembered that Mae called used the same nickname for her as Edward did. She smiled and continued reading.

You don't have any idea of how happy I was to receive your last letter in the mail. Do you know how worried I was when I found out that England was going to war? Very worried! You seem to be doing well, though, which is good. Are you really going to train to be a nurse? Where? And why? I know you have a heart of gold and want to help, but wouldn't you rather stay out of all this? I am your friend, though, so I support you, even though I don't agree with it. Just be safe.

I hope by the time this letter reaches you, you and this Edward Trent you told me about have grown closer! You'll have to tell me about him, Syb. Did I not tell you an English boy would sweep you off your feet? He is English, yes? If not, I was only partially right.

Sybil set down the letter for a moment because she couldn't stop smiling. Mae always could make her laugh. She was like George in that way. Now that Sybil thought about it, Mae and George would get along very well if they were to meet. It's a shame Mae has a boyfriend, Sybil thought, she was someone she could approve of George being with, but other than that, they would be very good friends. She read on:

As for me, I've been so busy! I got a new job at the local drugstore! I serve ice cream, isn't that great (and sweet)? Arthur has been taking me out a lot, too. I like him so much, Syb. When I'm with him all is perfect. Maybe you feel the same way about Edward Trent?

Yes, Sybil thought. I feel the same way.

I have to cut this letter short because I have to send it off soon. I'm leaving to spend a few days with Arthur and his family at their lake house. I should be back by Wednesday or Thursday. Write back to me if possible; I really want to know how you are and what's new.

Oh, and I will most definitely watch a Clark Gable film for you.

I hope to hear from you soon! Take care, Syb.

Your friend,

Mae Benson

After Sybil read the letter, she went to take a hot bath. As she stepped in and sat in the water, she felt more relaxed than she had felt in quite some time. She sighed and looked up at the grand ceiling of the bathroom. This was a luxury she knew she would not have at the hospital. Everything at Downton Abbey was a luxury she would not have at the hospital but she was prepared for it since she and her father lived simply, anyway.

As Sybil relaxed in the bathtub, she thought of Mae's letter. Reading the letter made Sybil miss seeing her friend every day. She missed riding her bike through town and through the countryside with her and going to one another's houses. She had an odd feeling that those days would not return and she somewhat believed it. Things had changed that were out of anyone's control and she wondered if she and her father would even get to see their home again. Perhaps they would have to remain at Downton permanently, which was fine with Sybil, but there was something special about living away with her father. They lived their lives free from the wealth and glamour of upper-class life and it was a lifestyle that she preferred. When she would live in her own house, Sybil thought, she wanted to live in a simple home; she didn't care where. If she and her father were to remain in England, she would be more than content to live in the countryside, away from the busy cities. Perhaps they would even live in Ireland. After the war, Sybil thought, I can plan more.

By this time tomorrow, Sybil would be already settled in at the hospital, or at least, she hoped she would be. Even though her day did not go as she planned it, she was satisfied with how her last day at Downton was spent. What's better than spending the day with your only cousins? She was grateful she had George and Marigold in her life because she realized life would be quite dull without them. Even when she was in America with her father, she was happy but she wished she could see her cousins more often. She knew she would miss them terribly while she was away in London but she hoped she could be in contact with them as much as possible to see how they were, especially George since he was to leave soon, as well.

Once Sybil was through with her bath and washing her hair, she decided to remain in the bathtub because she knew she how cold it would be once she left the tub, and nothing could pull her away from the tempting hot water she was in. Before she could relax again, there was a loud knock on the bathroom door, which startled Sybil. Even though she thought she had locked the door, she lowered herself into the water just in case she had forgotten. "Yes?" She asked loudly.

"Sybil, are you almost done in there?" It was Marigold. Sybil looked around and reached over for her towels that were folded neatly on the floor adjacent to the tub. "Somewhat," Sybil answered. "I'm still in but I'm about to get out to dry myself. Why?"

"Oh, I don't mean to rush you," she heard Marigold say. "It's just that there's a telephone call waiting for you."

Sybil looked at the door as though she could see Marigold through it. "A telephone call from whom?" She asked.

"I don't know. I just know Uncle Tom said you're needed on the telephone. Whoever was wanting to speak to you said they would telephone again in ten minutes because your father said that you were busy at the moment."

It must be Edward! "I'll be downstairs soon then, Marigold! Thank you!" Once Sybil could no longer hear Marigold outside of the door, she carefully got out of the bathtub. After drying herself hurriedly with the towels, she put her robe on and sat at the vanity, brushing her hair. Edward must have found time to call her and her heartbeat with joy as she realized she would be able to speak with him very soon. She pinned her hair up neatly since it was not completely dry before she got dressed in an outfit for dinner. "My shoes!" Sybil sighed as she realized she had no shoes to put on. She looked herself over in the full-length mirror once before she left the bathroom. She tiptoed through the halls and to her room in a flurry, where she grabbed a pair of black shoes from her wardrobe and slipped them on.

Sybil practically ran downstairs and immediately went to the telephone. Her father had written a note by the telephone that simply stated there was a call for Sybil. She waited patiently by the telephone and began to count the seconds in her head as she waited to hear the ring. What should I say to him? Sybil wondered as the telephone began to ring. As anxious as Sybil was to talk, she let it ring for a few seconds before answering. "Hello?" She asked, surprised that she seemed to sound almost breathless.

"Sybil? Oh, I'm so glad I can speak to you." It was a woman's voice. A bit of disappointment filled Sybil as she heard that it was Aunt Isobel and not Edward. She wouldn't let her disappointment be obvious, though, since she was genuinely happy to speak to her aunt. "It's Isobel," she heard her say after Sybil did not respond to her.

"Oh, yes, forgive me, Isobel," Sybil said cooly. "How are you?"

"Just fine, dear," Isobel said. "How are you? Eager about tomorrow?"

"A bit, yes," Sybil said. "I haven't even packed."

"You ought to!" Isobel laughed. "I just wanted to call and wish you luck since I won't be able to see you. You will do very well, Sybil. Do not be afraid and remember to study. Do not miss any learning opportunities because anything and everything you learn will be of use to you. Be sure to make friends, too. I know you may feel lonely at first but those nurses will become your sisters and you never know when you shall need them in a situation that you can't overcome alone."

"Thank you so much, Isobel," Sybil said. The advice was great advice and Sybil would be sure to remember all that she said.

"You're welcome, dear. Oh, and I heard that you stopped by the Cottage Hospital to see Lucy?"

"Yes, that's correct," Sybil answered. She heard Isobel Crawley sigh.

"I'm sorry, Sybil. I had known that she had been taken to another hospital but I had forgotten to tell you yesterday. She is very ill."

"I hope to see her again," Sybil said sadly.

"I'm sure you will."

Sybil saw her family begin to go to the dining room for dinner and George waved her over. "I think dinner is going to be served now," she said into the telephone.

"Ah, the same for me, as well," Isobel laughed. "I should go then."

"Thank you so much for all your help. I truly appreciate it. I think I've told you this already," Sybil chuckled. "But I do really mean it."

"I was happy to help your mother with this and now am more than happy to help you, Sybil. Good luck. I shall see you when I see you."

"Goodbye, Isobel."

"Goodbye, dear."

Sybil hung up the telephone and joined her family in the dining room. She sat next to her father and across from her cousin Marigold. She was so used to seeing Edward seated across from her and she missed exchanging glances with him during dinner. "So, was it Edward?" Marigold asked quietly as their dinner was being served.

"No," Sybil answered. "It was Aunt Isobel."

Her father, who was listening to her and Marigold, decided to join in on the conversation. "What did she say?"

"She gave me very good advice about tomorrow and my training," Sybil said. "I really appreciate her. Oh, and, Papa, would you mind helping me pack after dinner for tomorrow? I haven't done so yet."

"I'll help you, darling," her father smiled. She smiled at him graciously and soon everyone had their plates in front of them. Donk stood from his set with his glass of wine for a toast. "Well, the evening I've been dreading has finally arrived. My eldest grandchild, Sybbie, is leaving to start a new chapter of her life at St. Margaret's in London. I have no doubt that she will be an excellent nurse."

"Thank you, Donk," Sybil smiled, feeling bittersweet emotions.

"Ah, and she'll be the prettiest nurse too. Just as her mother was," Donk said, clearly teary eyed.

"Oh, Donk," Sybil sighed. "You're going to make me cry into my dinner."

"Indeed," her aunt, Mary, said as she gently dabbed at her eye with her napkin.

"I know Sybil will be courageous no matter what challenges she may face," her grandfather continued. "Sybil, I know I have told you time and time again but we are all immensely proud of you and supportive of you. You have already made us proud. Please do not stay away for too long because we shall all miss you dearly." Sybil's other family members agreed with her grandfather's statements by nodding their heads and smiling at her. "To Sybil,' her grandfather said, raising his glass along with the rest of her family. "To Sybil!" They repeated. Once everyone had taken a drink from their glasses, Sybil set her glass down and wanted to express her thanks.

"Thank you, Donk, for that. I shall miss all of you but I will return here again. I love you all so much and thank you for making this stay at Downton one of the most special. It certainly was full of surprises from my birthday celebration to the war being announced and me leaving for London. I'm going to work very hard at St. Margaret's and I'm hoping I can help a lot of people while I am there. No matter what happens, Downton Abbey will always be my home."

"And Downton Abbey will always be here waiting for your return," her grandmother said.

Sybil's last dinner at Downton Abbey before she left was filled with sweet and supportive words from all of her family members. There were a few tears but George was ready with his humor to make the tears turn into laughter. As Sybil ate her dinner and listened to her family, she realized how lucky she was to have them all and be in this family. None of them were perfect but in her eyes, they were irreplaceable and she loved them with all her heart. The family dinners would be something she would miss dearly while she was in London. She soon would have to be having dinner alone or at a table full of strangers, who would hopefully in time become friends and maybe even seem like family. The comforts of her family may not be present physically for her while she was gone, but she would carry them in her heart and think of them whenever she felt lonely.

"I'm going upstairs to help Sybbie pack up," her father announced as the family left the dining room after dinner. When her family left for the drawing room, Sybil and her father went upstairs together and to her bedroom. "Now, what do you think you will be taking?" Her father asked as he entered her room with her. Sybil shrugged and opened her wardrobe.

"A few day outfits that are casual enough to walk around London in, I suppose." Sybil began to take out clothing from her wardrobe that she thought would be perfect for London. While her father helped her, she separated casual dresses, blouses, skirts, stockings, and other articles of clothing that were necessary. She began to place the clothing in her suitcase as her father looked further through her wardrobe.

"Sybil, why don't you take one or two evening gowns?"

Sybil looked up from her suitcase in disbelief. "What for, Papa? I'm going to be at the hospital most of the time, I'm sure. I don't think that I'll have a need or reason to go anywhere that requires an evening gown."

"You never know, Sybbie," her father said, taking out a red evening gown, along with a dark blue one that she had worn during her stay. "These are lovely. You don't need to take the dress I bought you for your birthday; that one is too elegant. Just take these."

"But, Papa," Sybil began to say but her father had already placed the dresses in her hands. "They won't get used."

"I have a feeling that they will," her father said with a wink. Sybil raised a brow out of curiosity.

"You seem quite certain."

"I'm not exactly certain," her father chuckled. "But you never know when they may be needed. I don't just want you to work and be cooped up in that hospital every single day. If you make friends and they want to go do something during the evenings, go with them. Make the most of life, Sybil, just as you did here. Go out to dinner, spend time with new people, go dancing. I know you can be trusted and are very responsible so go out and enjoy yourself."

Sybil had not thought about how her social life would be once she was in London. She could make friends but she didn't think that she would be going out with them, especially dancing. She couldn't imagine herself going out to dance with anyone except Edward anyway. "I suppose I can take them," Sybil said with slight hesitation. "I can't guarantee I shall be going out in the evenings but you're right, it is good to have them available."

Her father smiled. He had high hopes that Edward would visit Sybil in London at some point, and if he were to take her out dancing, Sybil would need something to wear for the occasion. "I'll try to visit you as often as I can, Sybil. On Sunday's I can go and we can have breakfast together. Or every other Sunday, we can do that."

"Perfect," Sybil smiled as she took a few hats and pairs of shoes from her wardrobe.

Her father walked over to her vanity and saw the portrait of her mother. With a gentle smile, he picked up the portrait and lightly touched it. "Keep your mother's bracelet that I gave to you here, Sybbie," he said, not looking away from the portrait.

"I will, Papa," Sybil said. "I'm wary about taking evening gowns so I would never ever think to take my mother's bracelet." She looked up from the suitcase and saw that her father was admiring her mother's portrait. She smiled at the sight and continued packing. "I wish the both of you were taking me to London tomorrow."

Her father looked away from the portrait. "We are, Sybbie," he smiled. "She is always with us and she will most definitely be with us tomorrow. She is so proud of you. We both are."

With a light sigh, Sybil went over to her father and hugged him. "And I love you both, Papa," she said and kissed his cheek. She looked at the portrait of her mother and touched the frame. "May I take this with me, Papa?"

"Please do," her father said, gingerly placing the portrait in her hands. "I have a few more photographs of your mother so there is no problem with you taking this with you. Besides, I think it would bring much comfort to you if you can see her."

"Thank you, Papa," Sybil said and returned to her suitcase. She placed the portrait between her dresses so that it would not get damaged during their travels. "I hope that I shall have a place to put her. What else should I take?"

"Whatever you want, darling," her father said and sat on her bed. The opened letter from Mae was still there and her father picked up the letter. "Did Mae have anything interesting to say?"

"She misses me," Sybil answered. "I miss her too. Will we return to America, Papa? I can't imagine us doing so anytime soon unless the war ends."

Her father shrugged and thought about it. "I don't know yet, Sybil. We may not be returning for a while. I was even thinking of selling our house."

The mention of selling their home caught Sybil's attention. "Sell our house?"

"Yes," her father said. "I would sell it and have our belongings sent here somehow. It's something for me to think about some other day. Right now, it's a bit stressful to ponder on it."

"I understand," Sybil said. Selling their home would not be an easy decision for her father to make but she trusted that he would end up making the right choice for them both. "No matter what, Papa, we have family here that would be more than happy to have us for forever."

"I know," her father said. "We're so lucky to be here, as well. We're safe here in the countryside. I can't imagine how frightened other families must feel elsewhere."

Like in Poland, Sybil thought. "I hope all the other people in the countries involved in this war feel safe soon," she said. "I actually met a man today who was expecting a letter from a loved one in Poland."

"Oh, really?" Her father asked. "Was he an Englishman?"

"I believe so," Sybil answered. "He's worried because the woman he loves won't come to England without her family. She's Jewish too."

Her father shook his head. It broke his heart to hear of loved ones being separated and families feeling like they were in danger for doing nothing but living. "There are already many people who have had to face that trial. We can only hope and pray that people like him are reunited with their loved ones and are far away from any danger. So far, I feel that we've abandoned Poland."

"We have?" Sybil asked curiously.

"Unfortunately," her father sighed. "War is messy, Sybil, but we must help those who we can. Let's not discuss it anymore. Let's just continue on packing."

Dropping the subject, Sybil continued to pack. There wasn't much else for her to take, however, aside from what she had already packed. She emptied her satchel that she had with her throughout the day and decided to take Lucy's red ribbon. To her, the ribbon symbolized hope. It symbolized hope that Sybil would see Lucy again which meant that she would return home to Downton.

There was one important batch of items that she wanted to take with her to London but did not have: the portraits that she had taken with her family and Edward. "Papa, do you know when we will receive the portraits we took together? I had hoped that I could take them with me."

"I imagine we should be receiving them soon. When they arrive, I shall take the ones of you to you in London."

"I would appreciate that, Papa. Thank you." Good, Sybil thought. That was something I could look forward to. "I wish Edward would have been able to take the portrait I took with him. If he wanted to take it, of course."

"I'm sure he would have," her father said. "If there is more than one copy of that photograph, I shall see that he receives it."

"Thank you, Papa!" Sybil beamed. "You're so wonderful! I hope Edward has a chance to visit me in London. Do you think he will?"

"I'm sure he will," her father said with a smile. "So, you'll be alright tomorrow, Sybbie?"

Sybil nodded confidently. "I'll be alright, Papa. Our train leaves at ten o'clock?"

"Ten o'clock," her father repeated. "We'll have to leave here at half-past nine. Tomorrow is Saturday so the train station will be much busier than it was when I took Edward."

"I'll have breakfast downstairs then since we have to leave early," Sybil said. "Then I can say goodbye to everyone and we can be on our way."

Once Sybil and her father felt that she had packed enough, she closed her two suitcases and set them aside. With a yawn, Sybil looked at the clock in her room and pondered on whether she should get ready for bed or not. It was still early, but it also was an appropriate time for her to go to bed, especially since she knew her nerves for tomorrow would keep her awake for some time. "Papa, I think I'm going to get ready for bed now and attempt to fall asleep early," Sybil said.

"Alright then," her father said as he picked up her suitcases. "I'll put these downstairs so that we don't have to worry about bringing them downstairs tomorrow morning. I'll tell the rest of the family that you're tired."

"Thank you," Sybil said and hugged her father. "Good night, Papa."

"Goodnight, my darling. Sleep well. Wake up at a reasonable hour, please."

"I will," Sybil smiled. She closed the door after her father left and began to get herself changed and ready for bed. Later, as she lay in bed, she looked out the window at the clear dark night sky. She knew that whatever window she would look through tomorrow night would be obstructed by buildings and London smog. It would be a such a change. Her silk plush bed covers wouldn't be with her tomorrow night either; she sighed at the thought. She would have to abandon what made her comfortable because it was no longer about her; as a nurse, it would be all about her studies and her patients. She was ready for it.

That night she slept with little to no disruptions to her sleep and only dreamt of happy things. The nightmares were gone for now.

"The Germans sank one of our steam merchants," Sybil's grandfather announced as he slammed the newspaper onto the dining room table after breakfast the following morning. Sybil looked up from her almost empty plate and took a peek at the newspaper on the table. Her father took the newspaper out of her sight before she could read any of it. He father flipped through the pages looked at the story.

"Terrible," he muttered as he placed the newspaper back on the table.

"And this is only the beginning," Donk sighed as he stood and began to leave the room. George stood and followed his grandfather.

"Don't worry, Donk, I'll stop them," he said. Sybil stood with her father and walked with him, arm-in-arm, to the drawing room.

"We'll have to leave soon, Sybil," her father said to her. Moments later, the women of the family joined them in the drawing room and immediately began saying their goodbyes to Sybil.

"Goodbye, my darling," her grandmother said with a sad smile as she embraced Sybil. "I love you, Sybbie."

"I love you too," Sybil smiled and then went to say goodbye to her aunts.

"Take care, Sybil," her aunt Edith said after she hugged her.

"Write to us," Uncle Bertie said as he hugged his niece.

"I will," Sybil said reassuringly. Her eyes became clouded with tears by the time she finished saying goodbye to her Uncle Henry and reached her aunt Mary. The two said nothing to one another and just pulled each other into a tight embrace.

"If you don't return by Christmas, I'm going to be furious with you," her aunt playfully warned. Sybil laughed and wiped her tears.

"I'll return, I promise."

Marigold was already in tears when she said her goodbyes to Sybil. "I'm going to miss you very much, Sybbie." The cousins embraced and soon, George joined in and held both of his cousins.

"We love you, Sybbie."

"I love you both so much," Sybil cried softly as she huddled together with her cousins.

"We must all be brave," George said. Sybil nodded with a smile and pulled away, drying her face with her handkerchief she had kept handy for the morning. When she turned, Donk was standing before her with open arms.

"Donk, I don't want you to worry about me," Sybil said to him and he held her.

"I can't help that," her grandfather said as a tear fell from his eye. "If you ever need anything from any of us, please call us right away. We love you, Sybbie."

"I will, Donk. Thank you," Sybil smiled. She kissed her grandfather's cheek and lightly squeezed his hands. "I love you, Donk." She turned towards her father and held onto his arm. "Shall we go now, Papa?"

"We should. I wanted us to see one more person on our way to the train station," her father said. He checked his watch to see if they had enough time. With a nod, he and Sybil walked out of the drawing room with her family following behind. Sybil's suitcases were already waiting by the entrance to Downton Abbey. Her father picked up the suitcases and opened the door. "I'll return later today," he said to everyone. Sybil watched as her father walked out to the car.

Mr. Crewe was waiting by the car and immediately helped with a suitcase when her father neared him. Sybil hesitated in following her father and remained in the doorway with her family. It had been a quick morning but Sybil could do nothing to slow the moment now. "Goodbye, everyone," she said to her family with a sad smile. After her family restated their goodbyes, Sybil looked around the grand entrance of Downton Abbey. The memories of everything she had experienced with her family and Edward filled her mind as she took in the elegance of her true home. "Goodbye, Downton," she sighed, touching the doorway gently. "I love you all." She turned away and walked out of Downton Abbey with confidence but at the same time, a heavy sadness. It was the first time she had walked out of Downton Abbey with no knowledge of when she would return. In a few hours, she would be in London and life, as she knew it, was going to be very different.