November 1st, 1939

Tom Branson couldn't keep a smile off of his face as he stepped out of the taxi that had taken him from the city to the countryside; he was home. It had been almost three weeks since he had made the announcement that he needed to return to Massachusetts. His entire family thought him mad and begged him to remain at Downton but after a lot of convincing, they reluctantly agreed that he should go. His and Sybil's home had been empty since late August and as the owner of a business, Tom knew his presence was important to his employees.

The travel did make Tom feel uneasy once he had boarded the ship. The news of the Germans torpedoing British battleships had frightened him, and this new fear led him to want to spend a lot of time on deck rather than below in his room. Every time he looked over the side and into the water, his mind wandered to the thought about how many German subs were below, watching and waiting. These thoughts made the travel across the Atlantic a somewhat unpleasant one, but once he knew the ship was closer to the United States than it was to England, he was able to settle his worries. When he arrived, he immediately telephoned Downton Abbey and told everyone that he had made it back safely. They were all extremely relieved, having not heard from him after days of travel. Thomas Barrow promised to get the message to Sybil in London so that she could telephone him when she was free. Tom was grateful for this and was very much looking forward to speaking with his daughter after his long journey.

With his suitcase in hand, Tom walked to the front door of his quaint cottage and took the keys from his coat pocket. Before opening the door, he took a moment to admire the beauty around his home. Oranges, browns, and reds were the colors of the scenery and he remembered how much he adored the fall season here. Sybil too loved this season because it meant Thanksgiving was near which meant Christmas was just around the corner. Her favorite part of the fall season, however, was the colors. He remembered when she was around seven years old, she became enthralled with the different colors of the leaves. She would place the leaves delicately into the pockets of her small dress and carry them with her everywhere she went. On one occasion, she even displayed them on the dinner table.

"Darling, what are you doing?" Tom asked as he sat at the table. Sybil was seated across from him and focused on arranging all of the leaves she had found outside by color. "Sybbie," Tom chuckled when his daughter did not look up from him. "Let's not put things from outside near our food, alright?"

"But, Papa," Sybbie pouted, finally looking up at her father. "They're so pretty, look. I found a red one, a brown one, a yellow one." Her little finger pointed to each leaf as she spoke proudly. "And look, this one looks purple!"

Tom raised a brow to show his daughter that he was impressed with her grand discovery. "A purple leaf! That must be a magical one," he said before taking a bite of his food. "You know, Sybbie, there's a lot of different types of leaves outside this time of year. They're all shapes and colors. How about you and I go for a walk and see how many different ones we can find?"

"Yes!" Sybbie exclaimed happily. "Yes! Let's go right now," she said, sliding down the chair.

Tom laughed and patted the table softly to get her attention. "Sybbie Branson, where do you think you're going? We're having dinner right now, darling."

Sybbie huffed and returned to her seat. "After dinner then?"

"Your bathtime is after dinner."

"After bathtime?"

Tom shook his head. "It'll be too dark outside. How about tomorrow? I'll make us pancakes and we'll go for a nice walk, maybe even ride our bicycles. How does that sound?"

Sybbie smiled widely. "That's wonderful, Papa. I love you!"

"I love you more, Sybbie."

When Tom opened the door to his home, it was eerily quiet as he expected. He remembered how many times he would return home from work and music from a record Sybbie was playing would be filling the home. She would be singing along and giggling softly as she danced around in her room to it; it delighted him to see her so carefree. This time, however, his daughter was not with him, she was the across the Atlantic; they had never been this far from each other.

Tom walked through the house briefly before going to his bedroom to set his suitcase down. He unpacked quickly and once he was finished, he went into Sybil's room. Her bedroom, filled with pinks, baby blue, and white, was still very much a young girl's room but she adored it. Tom wondered, though, if she would feel the same whenever she would return. He frowned at the thought that if the war continued on for years to come, the girl that left this room in August 1939 would return a woman who had seen too much. Though, Tom hoped the war would remain mostly uneventful and not last long at all. He wanted nothing more than to be back in Boston again with his daughter, but he also wanted to see her live passionately and do what she had her heart set on. He would support her choice whether it be her returning to Boston or staying in England.

When Tom had told Sybil about his return to Boston, Sybil was shocked and immediately became filled with worry. The thought of her father traveling back alone made her feel ill and uneasy and she wished there was something she could say to change his mind, but he was as stubborn as she was, and he had already made his mind. The morning he left, she telephoned Downton Abbey and they were able to quickly say their goodbyes. Sybil made him promise her that he would return as soon as he was able to, which he would.

Tom opened Sybil's wardrobe and quickly skimmed through her clothes, reminding himself that he needed to take more clothes back to England for her. He set aside blouses, skirts, and more to pack when he was ready to. He smiled softly as he saw the issues of Vogue stacked next to her wardrobe. It was her favorite magazine and there were many times he would find her lying on her bed completely entranced by the dresses.

Later, Tom went to see the Bensons, who had been keeping an eye on the house for them. He was greeted by Mae Benson, Sybil's best friend, who was quite surprised to see him.

"Mr. Branson! Hello!" Mae greeted. "I didn't know you were returning!"

"Hello, Mae," Tom smiled. "Yes, I'm here for a short time just to check up on things. How are you? Is your father home?"

"We're just fine. I started working at the local drug store serving ice cream, so I've been keeping myself busy. And no, my father's at work. I'll tell him you stopped by," Mae said before glancing behind Tom. "Syb isn't with you?"

Tom shook his head. "No, she's not with me. She's in England. She's training to be a nurse in London."

Mae's face held an expression of surprise for a moment. "So she really did it. Ha! Gosh, I didn't know she was that serious about it. She wrote to me in September mentioning it but I didn't think she would actually go through with it. She is very ambitious!"

Tom smiled softly. "That she is. She's enjoying it."

"That's good to hear! Honestly, we were worried about the two of you. I wrote Sybil in late September and she never responded. With the war being announced and all, we're not sure what exactly is going on there aside from what the newspapers tell us."

"I remember her getting your letter but I think life got a bit busy for her to respond. If I talk to her later, I'll tell her to write to you. Don't worry about us too much, though, Mae. Life over there is still fairly normal. There are precautions taking place for certain things but people are continuing on," Tom said, not wanting to get into too much detail. The last thing he would want is to frighten her.

"I see," Mae sighed. Suddenly, she ran back into the house, telling Tom to wait just a moment. When she returned, she held a small packet of mail tied together with a ribbon. "Here's your mail," she said as she handed the stack to Tom.

"Thank you so much! This is really appreciated. Anything important?"

Mae shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think so."

"Well, thank you and your family for keeping an eye on our home again. I'll be here for a week or two, I haven't decided yet."

"Of course, Mr. Branson. Give Sybil my love if she calls. I'll tell my family you've returned. Oh! Come by for dinner sometime."

"I will! Thank you!"

Tom's employees at the auto shop were more than happy to see him. They updated him on all that had happened and how well business was doing. Tom was grateful to be back at the shop again and once again be surrounded by something he was passionate about. He knew how lucky he was for all to have gone well during his absence and he trusted that when he would leave again, all would continue to be well.

Tom returned home that afternoon and made himself comfortable. He eventually went to the sofa and began to read the morning's paper, but he was surprised by what he saw. He noticed that there was a lot being written about how much involvement the United States should have in the war. The majority of Americans were in favor of staying out of the war and not sending troops to fight the Germans according to a recently published poll. Many were speaking out in favor of one idea or the other and the constant back-and-forth was surely causing tension among Americans.

Before Tom could continue on to the next page of the newspaper, the telephone rang. He eagerly accepted the call from London, knowing that Sybil would be on the other end.

"Papa?"

"Sybbie! Yes, it's me, darling!"

"Papa! Oh, you haven't the slightest idea how happy I am to hear your voice," Sybbie said with a sigh. "So, you made it back safely! Thank God! I have to be quick since I don't want this call to be expensive for you, but when did you arrive?"

Tom smiled into the telephone. "I got back this morning. It was a tiring journey and I must admit I was a bit worried but it was all fine. The house is just the way we left it."

"Good, Papa! I've been so worried about you since you left."

"I know, darling but I'm here and safe. I went to the shop and everything is orderly. Oh, I went to the Benson's too to get our mail and Mae said she hasn't heard from you."

Tom heard Sybil gasp. "Mae! Oh my goodness, I forgot to respond to her letter. I'll do that straight away, Papa."

"Alright, Sybbie. What are you doing right now? It's evening there, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I'm leaving to have dinner with the Woodhams' soon. Today was a very good day, actually. I'm excelling in my courses and am getting very good marks."

"That's wonderful! I'm so happy that you're happy there, Sybbie, and that you have friends. I'll leave you to that then."

"Alright, Papa! I'm glad I was able to talk to you even for this short moment. You rest, alright? You've been traveling for days."

"I will, Sybbie. I love you."

"I love you, Papa."

Sybil was in a rather cheerful mood when she arrived at the Woodhams' home. Not only was she able to speak to her father on the telephone, but she was also able to quickly send a letter to her friend, Mae. She wrote about everything that had happened so far so that Mae could be up to date on everything; she would be eagerly awaiting her response.

"This smells delicious!" Sybil sang as she inhaled the aroma of the dinner cooking in the oven.

Helen, who was boiling potatoes on the stove, smiled proudly. "Thank you, Sybil! Would you mind cutting the carrots?"

"Of course not," Sybil smiled and went to the counter. With a knife in hand, she slowly began to chop up a carrot. She hummed softly to the music playing from the radio in the other room. She sometimes forgot how much she enjoyed preparing dinner, especially with her father. It was something she wished she could have experienced with her own mother. Though there was a lifetime of experiences she did not get to share with her mother she hoped that someday, she would be able to have her own daughter to share them with. She would take in every moment and make her future children feel loved just as her own father did. She would be the mother she imagined her mother would have been and she would cherish both her children and her husband. A smile spread across her face at the thought, especially when in her thoughts, a certain someone was her husband.

"Sybil?"

Sybil looked over her shoulder quickly. "Yes?"

Helen was laughing. "You finished chopping the carrot seconds ago but you're still continuing to chop."

Sybil looked down at the chopping board and saw that she had indeed finished chopping the carrot. She giggled softly. "Oh! I was distracted by my own thoughts it seems."

"About Edward?" Helen smirked as she stirred the pot on the stove.

Sybil brought the carrots over and quickly placed them into the pot. "Yes," she sighed. "I haven't gotten a letter from him recently. The last one I received was dated in late September. It was a couple days after we saw each other. I can't believe it's been over a month since I've spoken to him. Was it like that for you and Elliot?"

"It was, yes. There were times where we were able to write to each other frequently and then there were times where a lot of time would pass in between. We were both very busy, him off at camp and me doing my training at St. Margaret's; it's the same situation for you and Edward. Eli and I knew we wanted to get married after both of our trainings were completed and that's exactly what we did. I'm so happy we decided to marry during the summer rather than wait. Everything took an unexpected turn after August. We rushed a bit only because we thought that Eli would get sent somewhere but thank heaven that he is able to go back and forth to a local training camp. Have you and Edward discussed marriage?"

The question caught Sybil by surprise even though she expected it a little based on where the conversation was going. She tilted her head slightly in thought as she watched the potatoes and carrots boil in the pot. "I don't believe we've explicitly said 'marriage' to each other. We do talk a lot about traveling together after the war and perhaps having a future together. Everything we discuss is always after the war."

"Rightly so. It's difficult to plan things such as that during a war. Though all is calm here right now, who knows what the world will be like next year, next month, or maybe even next week."

Sybil took a step back from the stove. "Oh, Helen, don't say that. That all frightens me."

"I'm sorry," Sybil heard Helen say. "Have you and Edward said that you're in love with each other yet?"

Sybil was once again caught by surprise. "Ah, no! We haven't." She leaned back against the counter and watched Helen. "Do you think Edward is in love with me?"

Helen threw her head back as she laughed. "Sybil! You are so funny! Of course, he is! He practically holds a sign that says 'I'm in love with Sybil Branson' when he's with you. I remember the first time I met you both at the dance. He just… The way he looks at you. It was more evident when we went on that picnic in September. Sybil, I don't think you notice, but when you speak, he stares at you as if you're the only person in the world. He listens to you. He's protective of you. Trust me, you two may not be as openly affectionate as Elliot and I are but once you two come to terms with your feelings for each other, life will be even grander! Believe me, you give him those same eyes, as well."

Sybil felt herself blush and she couldn't help but smile. She had pondered frequently if her strong feeling for Edward was in fact love. "I've never been in love. I loved my family and my friends but I think what I feel for Edward must be what being in love feels like. Or perhaps I'm still falling in love as they say."

"Yes! I still fall in love with Eli every day," Helen smiled.

Sybil thought this was a beautiful thought but something else began to enter her mind. She frowned slightly. "I hate to think this but what if something were to happen to Edward during the war? What if something were to happen to me? What if-"

"Hush! Don't speak like that. In love, when something is meant to happen, it'll happen. If you and Edward aren't meant to be together and are meant to be with other people or something such as that, then that's that. I really do think you and Edward are a perfect match though based on the little I've seen of you both."

Sybil nodded in response and crossed her arms, not wanting to think about it anymore. She wanted the war to be over and she wanted to experience life freely with the man she was in love with. The uncertainty as to if and when that would even happen bothered her immensely.

Helen opened the oven and clapped her hands at the sight of what was baking inside. "Wonderful. Sybil, will you please tell Elliot that dinner is ready? He's outside, I believe."

"I will." Sybil swiftly left the kitchen and made her way to the front door. When she opened the door, she saw Elliot sitting on the steps of their home. He was smoking a cigarette and watching the cars pass by. Not wanting to startle him, Sybil cleared her throat softly. "Elliot?"

A billow of smoke appeared before Elliot as he exhaled. Turning his head slightly, Sybil could see him smile. "Hello, Sybil. Is dinner ready?"

"It is."

"I can smell it from out here. It must be something delicious," Elliot said as he stood up. "Tell Helen I'll be right in."

"Alright," Sybil said as she began to go back inside.

"Sybil, wait!"

Sybil froze and turned back around to face Elliot. She couldn't help but raise a brow quizzically. "Yes?"

Elliot took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled. "I just wanted to speak to you about something quickly."

Sybil took a step closer to him, coughing a bit as the smoke fill her nostrils. "What about?"

Elliot turned slightly away from her, noticing that the smoke bothered her. He looked out onto the street once more and Sybil noticed that he had a serious expression. "I don't know if you've heard what the foreign minister of Germany said last week..."

Sybil shook her head. "I don't believe so? Perhaps? What did he say?"

"He said," Elliot began before exhaling his smoke, "that Britain is to blame for the war. He said that the fighting will be on a much larger scale now because Chamberlain didn't accept Hitler's peace gesture or some nonsense like that."

"Oh! Yes, I did hear something about that. I thought I saw in the paper that we are to ignore that because it changes nothing."

"Yes, but it's still a threat."

Sybil bit her bottom lip uncomfortably. Why was Elliot talking to her about this? Was he trying to frighten her? She said nothing, hoping that he would say more that she could give valid input to. She glanced at him and saw him run his hand through his hair before looking at her. "I'm not going to say if because I know that it will happen, but when I leave to fight, I want to know that Helen is safe. I want to know that she has people she can trust nearby."

Sybil nodded. "Of course, Elliot. I'll be here for the length of my training and I'll always be ready to help her with the home or anything she may need."

"Thank you. Helen is brave but I know she needs company and if something were to happen to me, she'd be a mess. I don't want her alone when she's feeling that way. As long as she has a friend nearby, I'll feel much better. You two do everything you can to keep yourselves safe and out of harm's way."

"I will, Elliot."

Elliot smiled and placed his large hand on Sybil's shoulder. "That same goes for you, Sybil. You don't need to feel lonely when you're here. Helen tells me you have some friends at the hospital, which is wonderful. Our door is always open for you, though. See our home as your second home. You've been a wonderful friend to us and Helen almost sees you as a sister. She cares about you immensely. We both do."

"Thank you, Elliot," Sybil smiled. "I care for you both too. I love spending time with you both and am so grateful we've met. No doubt we were meant to meet from the very beginning, yes?"

"I have no doubts about that," Elliot smiled, putting out his cigarette. "Thank you for listening to me, Sybil. Now let's go see what the Mrs. made."

"You won't be disappointed. I think she mentioned that it was your favorite!" Sybil smiled as she went back into the house.

George laughed heartily before taking a swig of his beer. Edward watched him with a chuckle on his face. The men-in-training had the evening off and, naturally, the first idea they all agreed upon was going to a pub in the nearby village. Everyone was in good spirits and grateful for the short break in their demanding training schedules. Music blared from the radio while George and Edward sat at a table with their beers. George danced in his seat as he watched the soldiers dance with the girls from the village.

"Finally some fun around here!" George said over the loud music to Edward.

Edward nodded and drank his beer. "We deserve this, George! After everything we've been through this past month, I think an evening off every so often is exactly what we needed."

"Yes, after all that boot cleaning," George laughed.

Edward rolled his eyes and laughed too. "Especially after that. You know, maybe soon we'll get an entire day off, or even two."

George's nodded at the idea. "You really think so?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know but I hope so."

"Well," George began with a smirk, "I know what you'd do with those days off. You'd go see my cousin. Have you spoken to her lately?"

"There's no way I can actually speak to her, George, it's just been through letters. I sent her one yesterday, remember?"

George shook his head and held his glass up. "Let's do another toast! To you and lovely Sybil. And a toast to me and… myself. Just toast to me."

With a chuckle, Edward clinked his beer glass against George's and the two drank. Once George finished, he set his drink down and stood up. "I'm going to get another one."

"George, I think you've had enough," Edward said.

George waved his hand at Edward and took a step back from the table. "Oh, shush, you're not my mum. I'll be right back."

Edward watched as his friend made his way to the bar. He smiled to himself and went back to watching the couples dance. The sounds of a live band sounded from the radio and it gave the pub a buzzing energy. Edward couldn't help but tap his foot along to the song. As he did so, he remembered all the times he danced with Sybil and he wished she were here right now to dance with him again. He loved the smile she had when she danced and how happy she looked; it was his favorite way to pass the time with her. Taking another sip of beer, Edward began to wonder if these soldiers that were dancing with women had another woman back home. Were they in love with someone far away? Would their relationship last during the time they were apart? Edward was unsure of when he would see Sybil again but he hoped that the feelings they had for each other would remain unchanged. No matter where he was, he knew what he felt for Sybil and he was almost certain that she felt the same way, and that gave him hope.

Edward was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard George laughing from the bar. When he turned to look over at him, he saw George talking to two women, a blonde and a brunette. The two girls were giggling at what he was saying before George glanced over his shoulder, nodding at Edward. The girls both looked in the direction George was looking. The brunette made eye contact with Edward and she smiled at him. Edward gave her a quick smile before facing forward again. He hoped George would not bring the girls to the table since things weren't the way they were when they were in school together. Edward had someone that he felt committed to now so flirting with different girls was out of the question. He certainly craved affection as most of the men here did but he wasn't about to act upon anything just to fulfill that. George had always been the bigger flirt when they would go out, after all, but Edward would join in from time to time.

"Come and meet my friend!" Edward heard George say loudly. Edward groaned and rubbed his temples before finishing his beer.

"Edward!"

Edward feigned a smile and looked over at George. "George, you're back."

"I am, and look who I brought with me. This is Norma and Ruby. Norma, Ruby, this is Edward."

Norma smiled at Edward before she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Hello, I'm Norma."

"And I'm Ruby," the brunette said.

Edward smiled at them. "Nice to meet you, Norma and Ruby." He shot a quick glare at George. "I see you've met my friend, George."

Norma giggled. "He's quite funny! Charming too."

George smiled and drank from his new glass of beer. "Thank you, Norma. Shall we sit?"

"Yes!" Ruby said, taking a seat next to Edward, who shifted his seat back slightly when she wasn't looking. Norma then took a seat next to her and George plopped down in the next empty seat.

Norma turned her body toward George and rested her chin in her hand. Her blue eyes enchanting him. "It's such a sight to see you boys in uniform. You must be really brave."

Edward wanted to roll his eyes at both her words and George's grin.

"Oh, yes, we are very brave," George said proudly. "Well, most of us. I think I'm the bravest."

Norma and Ruby giggled and Edward suddenly wished he had another beer. He then felt new eyes on him and glanced over only to find Ruby smiling at him before looking back at George. Edward sighed quietly. Both and Ruby and Norma were very pretty. Months ago he probably would have been more social with them but he wasn't sure what their intentions were.

"We should dance, George!" Norma said as she stood from her seat.

George sprang up onto his feet. "I thought you'd never ask," he teased as he took her hand, leading her to the dancing area.

Edward knew that was bound to happen and he realized that he was now alone with Ruby at the table. When the two looked at each other, Ruby's eyes lit up. "How long have you been at training?" She asked.

"Since late September," Edward answered. "It feels like much longer, I must admit."

"I'm sure," Ruby smiled and leaned in slightly. "You have very nice eyes. Hazel, are they not?"

Edward nodded and Ruby stood, extending her hand out to him. "Would you like to dance?"

Edward longed to dance, but again the thought of him dancing with someone other than Sybil bothered him somewhat. "Ah, no, thank you. I'm actually very tired."

"Oh, come now," Ruby smiled as she grabbed his hand. "One dance and then you can return to the table. Please, I haven't had a dance all night."

Edward sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. What harm could there be in sharing one dance with this girl? Reluctantly, he stood from his seat. "Alright, then. One dance."

Ruby smiled triumphantly and with his hand still in hers, she led him to the dancing area. When the two began to dance, Edward heard George let out a cheer.
"You got him up from the table!" George said as he and Norma danced near them.

Ruby blushed and glanced over at him. "Trust me, it wasn't easy."

Edward said nothing and continued to dance, not giving Ruby eye contact. He tensed up when a familiar song began to sound from the radio; it was the Fred Astaire song that Sybil loved and they danced to a couple of times before.

"Someday, when I'm awfully low… When the world is cold… "

"So who is she?" Ruby asked as she watched Edward.

Edward blinked and looked at her, her dark eyes on him. "Excuse me?" He asked gently.

"I will feel a glow just thinking of you… And the way you look tonight."

"The girl you're thinking about," she said with a soft smile. "I can tell you're not comfortable dancing with another woman and you had that look in your eye when the song began."

Edward was taken aback by her frankness. "I'm not uncomfortable dancing with you. What look in my eye?" He asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Ruby laughed and leaned in a tad bit closer to him. "You're in love, aren't you?"

Edward averted his gaze and stared at the wall as he danced with her. Of course, he was in love, at least he thought he was. He had never been in love before but with Sybil, he felt the happiest he had ever been and as though he could conquer the world: it must be love.

"You don't have to answer," Ruby said to him. "Do you see her often?"

"I haven't seen her since late September," Edward said, looking back at Ruby. "She's in London training to become a nurse."

Ruby frowned. "London? That is quite far. I'm sure you miss her terribly."

"I do," Edward sighed.

"I'm sure she's lovely."

That she is, Edward thought to himself. To him, Sybil was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He found everything about her enchanting. Her adored the waves in her hair and how the darkness of it and made her blue eyes seem even brighter. He adored the way her nose scrunched slightly when she laughed and how her eyes lit up when she smiled. He adored the way she carried herself; confidently and with purpose. He adored the way she spoke; sometimes she would sound like a proper member of English nobility, other times she would sound like a girl from Ireland, and other times Edward could hear her pronouncing things in a way that made her sound American. She was the most interesting girl he had ever met and he only wanted to know more of her. "She's wonderful," he finally said.

Ruby simply smiled and stopped asking questions. The two were silent for the remainder of the dance and once it ended, Edward and Ruby returned to the table. After staring into his empty beer glass for a moment and debating on whether or not he should have another, he looked up and saw George and Norma talking in the corner with each other. Norma was giggling while George was rambling on about something animatedly. Edward shook his head softly at the sight; at least George was enjoying himself. Training had not been easy for him but as the days went on, he complained less and less and was more willing to do what he needed to do. The evening off was good for all of them.

"It's nice you have this Wednesday evening free," Ruby said to him, as though she could read his thoughts.

"It is," Edward responded. He then looked at her with great interest. "What day did you say it was?"

Ruby blinked in confusion and giggled. "Wednesday."

"Wednesday! Why did I think it was Thursday?" Edward immediately stood from his seat. If it was Wednesday, he knew this meant that Sybil was surely having dinner with Helen and Elliot Woodhams. If he could find a telephone and get through to them, he would be able to talk to Sybil. "Ruby, where's the nearest telephone?"

Ruby thought for a moment before looking over at the pub door. "Outside near the first light post to your right, there should be a telephone box."

"Thank you. If George asks where I went, tell him I'll be back soon," Edward said before quickly walking out of the pub. Just as Ruby said, a red telephone box was under the first street lamp. He walked over and said a quick prayer in hopes that he could get through and speak to Sybil.

After some waiting, Edward was told that he was being connected and that there would be an answer shortly. He swayed slightly in the telephone box out of eagerness, or perhaps it was the beer, he wasn't sure. "Come on, come on," he said quietly into the phone.

"Hello?"

Edward was relieved when he heard a woman's voice through the telephone. It wasn't Sybil's voice, so he assumed it was Helen's. "Hello? Is this Helen Woodham?"

"Yes, this is Helen. I'm sorry, who is this?"

"Ah, this is Edward. Edward Trent, I'm Sybil's…" What was he?

"Oh! Edward Trent!" Helen beamed. " I recognize your voice now. Hello! How are you over there at camp?"

"I'm doing well, how are you and Mr. Woodhams?"

"We're well, as well!" Helen chuckled. "What made you want to call?"

"Well, truthfully I want to talk to Syb," Edward chuckled as he ran his free hand through his hair. "I know she has dinner with you and your husband Wednesday nights and tonight I have the evening off so I think it's the perfect time to talk to her. May I speak to her, please?"

Helen cheerful tone suddenly saddened. "Oh, Edward… I'm so sorry, but she just left. Really, she left about five minutes ago."

Edward gently leaned against the side of the telephone box, defeated. "I see," he said softly.

"Well, wait, just a moment," Helen said quickly. "Maybe she hasn't gone far. Elliot!"

Edward heard Helen's voice farther away from the telephone, followed by a man's voice. After a few seconds, Helen spoke to Edward again. "Elliot is going to see if she's nearby. Really if you called five minutes ago, you would have just caught her."

Edward frowned. Five minutes would have made all the difference but he had been dancing and sitting with Ruby. "Yes, I should have called five minutes ago."

"She was in a rush to leave, though, I must admit. She wanted to return to St. Margaret's before a possible blackout."

Edward stood straight again. "Is Sybil walking back to the hospital alone then?"

Helen hesitated before answering. "Yes."

A sigh escaped Edward. "She promised me she wouldn't walk alone during a blackout. Even if the street lamps are lit, it's still dangerous for her to walk alone."

"I know," Helen said. "Elliot offers to walk her back but she never wants to inconvenience us. Oh, Elliot just came back in, wait just a moment."

Muffled voices could be heard and Edward already knew that Sybil had not returned.

"Edward, I'm so sorry but Elliot can't see her. She must have walked quickly because she's no longer on our street."

Edward was quite disappointed. It had all been too good to be true it seems yet all he wanted to do was speak to her for even just a minute. "That's alright," he said. "When you see her, tell her that I miss her and that I'm always thinking about her."

"I will, Edward. I know she missed you terribly, as well. She talks about you a lot. She really does love you."

Edward felt his heart skip a beat at her last words. Had he heard her correctly? "I'm sorry, what was that?"

He heard a muffled voice in response before Helen spoke into the telephone again. "Perhaps you may try again next Wednesday if you have the evening off?"

Still overwhelmed with what he previously heard Helen say, all Edward could do was nod. However, realizing that Helen couldn't see him, he brought himself back to reality and spoke: "Yes, I'll try again next Wednesday if I'm able to. Thank you, Helen. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Edward."

Edward hung up the telephone and again leaned against the glass of the telephone box. She really does love you. The words brought a smile to his face but he knew for it to be fully true, he had to hear the words from Sybil herself.

When Edward walked back into the pub, he saw Ruby had left the table and was dancing with another man. He was glad for that, though, since she deserved to have a nice time with someone. He sat down at the table and noticed George almost sauntering over to him. Edward raised a brow in question and gestured to the seat next to him. George fell into the chair with a smile on his face.

"You look like a very happy man," Edward chuckled. "Where's the girl you were dancing with?"

"Norma? Not sure," George smiled. "She kissed me and then left."

Edward suppressed a laugh. "She kissed you? Goodness, George. First evening off and you're already getting yourself into trouble."

"Good trouble!" George sang. "And you? I saw you dancing with Ruby. She's pretty isn't she?"

"She is but I didn't make an impression on her because she's dancing with another man already," Edward joked.

George pouted and looked at Edward. "That's right, my cousin is the only one who can stand boring old you. Where did you go anyway? I looked over earlier and you weren't at the table."

Edward leaned back in his seat. "I went out to see if I could speak to Sybil on the telephone. She has dinner with friends on Wednesdays but she had just left their home when I called."

George snapped his finger in disappointment. "What bad luck! I'm sorry, Ed. There's always next time."

"Yes, next time," Edward sighed. "Are you ready to go back to camp? We still have an early morning tomorrow."

"Bah, you're right. I suppose we should start going back soon. Curse the enemy for causing us to need to wake up so early."

Edward chuckled and patted George's back. "At least our hours are filled with what we need to know to defeat them."

Helen held a sad expression on her face when she set the telephone down. How disappointed Edward must be, she thought, since he had only missed Sybil by minutes. Helen understood how important contact was during these difficult times of separation; she had gone through it with Elliot. With a sigh, Helen turned over to her husband, who was seated on the sofa, listening to the radio.

"Elliot," Helen said walking over to him. "We should go to bed."

"Bed?" Elliot asked. "It's not that late, Helen. Sit next to me," he said, patting the spot on the sofa next to him.

Helen blushed and sat down next to her husband, but the moment she did so, a knock sounded from the door. Elliot and Helen immediately sat up in surprise and glanced at each other without saying a word. The knock continued to Elliot groaned as he stood up. "Who could that be?"

Helen stood, as well, and followed him closely from behind. "I don't know. Check the window before answering it, Elliot."

Elliot nodded and peaked through the curtain of the window. He then chuckled and went to the door. "It's no one but a shivering Sybil Branson," he said as he opened the door. Sybil stood before him, hugging herself through her coat.

"I'm so sorry to bother again but I believe I left my purse here," Sybil said, almost laughing at her mistake.

Elliot stepped aside for her to come in. "It's alright, Sybil. You may find it."

"Thank you!" Sybil said, sounding relieved. She quickly walked in and began her search.

"Sybil!" Helen said excitedly. "You won't believe who called minutes after you left earlier!"

"Who?" Sybil asked as she checked behind the pillows of the sofa.

"Edward!"

Sybil looked at Helen in great astonishment. "What?"

Helen nodded frantically. "Yes, Edward! He telephoned us from I don't know where but he knew you were having with dinner with us and wanted to speak to you. I told him he had just missed you and I can tell he was quite upset. He says he misses you and is always thinking of you."

"I miss him and am always thinking about him too," Sybil frowned as her shoulders slumped. She slowly went back to searching the sofa for her purse. "I would have been able to speak to him," she said sounding as though she were in a daze. "Oh, that is upsetting. I wish I wouldn't have left so quickly! I wonder where he was calling from. He must have had time off."

"He did. Try not to let it upset you too much, Sybil. I told him he should try again next Wednesday if he was able to," Helen said to her.

Sybil nodded and checked under the sofa. An "aha!" escaped her as she reached under and pulled her purse to her. She stood back up and smoothed her skirt out under her coat. "I found it," she said, holding her purse up. Elliot clapped, which caused Helen and Sybil to laugh.

After saying her thanks to the Woodhams', Sybil stepped out into the cold once more and walked quickly down the street. Though she remained focused on her destination, her mind was distracted greatly. Being able to speak to Edward on the telephone would have been the most perfect way to end her already good day. It upset her that she had missed him minutes before and she wondered if she would ever have that chance again. When would she even see him again? She thought it would surely be Christmas, that is if he chose to spend Christmas at Downton. His mother wouldn't particularly enjoy that idea, though. With a sigh, Sybil pulled the collar of her coat up and continued on her way to St. Margaret's.

A heavy rain arrived the following morning, which Marigold didn't mind too much since she was planning to stay in already. Marigold had been going to visit Lewis once or twice a week to spend time with him; a few kisses were stolen here and there. Now that the weather had changed drastically, he and his family were busier than ever and Marigold did not want to be an annoyance or inconvenience.

With legs stretched out onto the settee, Marigold was enthralled in the book she was reading: The Clue of the Tapping Heels. It was the newest Nancy Drew novel and Marigold had finally received a copy, thanks to her mother. She adored the heroine, Nancy Drew. She was sixteen years old just as Marigold was and had a gift for sleuthing, which Marigold also found quite interesting.

As Marigold was reading through a particularly thrilling scene, she heard voices from outside. She recognized her father's voice straight away, followed by her grandfather's. Their voices echoed, and she concluded that they must have been standing in the main hall. She decided to ignore them and continue reading but when she heard one of them say something about the Nazi party, curiosity got the better of her. She immediately closed her book and sat up on the settee. Their voices became muffled now as they must have been walking throughout the hall. Why on earth are they talking about that? Marigold wondered as she went to the library door. Slowly, she opened the door a bit and stood next to the opening, hoping to hear more.

"They've done it before, Robert, they can do it again just as well," Marigold heard her Uncle Henry say.

"He's right, Robert," her father said. "We should be prepared somehow."

Marigold heard Donk sigh. "Fine. What on earth would you suggest?"

"Well, for one thing, all these windows," Henry said.

Their voices suddenly grew distant and Marigold peeked out from the library; they had moved. Learning from her favorite sleuth, Marigold tip-toed out from behind the library door and darted through the main hall, eventually hiding behind a pillar. As she peeked out, she saw her grandfather, father, and uncle, again.

"In a blast, the windows would burst," Henry said, gesturing to the few windows nearby. "What have they been doing in London for all of this?"

"I've seen photographs of shops boarding up windows and sandbags being laid out," Marigold's father answered. "Boarding up all the windows here would take a small army though."

Donk scoffed. "We won't be boarding up any windows. That's nonsense. They won't come here. They didn't in the Great War and they won't during this one. They won't do anything in London either! My granddaughter is there."

"Robert, do you think they're going to care if the Earl of Grantham's granddaughter is in London? They seek to destroy us!" Henry said. "We must take precautions. One air raid is all it takes and Downton Abbey is gone forever."

Marigold gasped from behind the pillar and covered her mouth after she did so. Her gasp caught the attention of her father, who glanced around the room, sure that he heard something.

"Now, now, let's not get hysterical. Lower your voice too, Henry. The Germans aren't even on our soil,"

"Yet, Bertie," Henry said through gritted teeth. "I'm just worried."

"We all are, Henry," Donk said as he rubbed his temples. "We'll see what we can do. We've already been issued blackout curtains that have yet to go up."

"Let's have them be hung up then," Henry said as he paced slowly. "At least that'll give me some peace of mind."

Marigold watched as her father shook his head and rubbed his chin. "I don't think anything will happen here, Henry, but it is best to be prepared just in case. The girls and I need to return to Northumberland soon to see that things are done at Brancaster, as well. I know Marigold won't want to leave but I don't think Edith will want to be gone long."

"Whatever you think is best, Bertie," Donk said. "We will begin taking precautions here at Downton Abbey. I know this place isn't invincible but if it can last through one war, it can last through another, especially if conflict never comes near."

"Let's hope you're right, Robert."

When the three men began to walk to the drawing room, a now frightened Marigold quickly left her spot behind the pillar and went to the grand staircase. Before going onto the first step, however, Marigold realized that she did not want to escape to her room. She didn't want to be alone, especially now that her mind was swarming with thoughts of what she just heard. She knew her mother, aunt, and grandmother were somewhere but she wanted to spend time with someone other than them. Marigold huffed as she sat down on the first stop, her hand resting under her chin. She missed her cousins, she even missed Edward. The days were long and almost dull without them, except when she was with Lewis, of course. When it was just her and George, they spent hours together and the time was never boring, even when they began to annoy each other. What she could give to have George return at this moment. She would welcome his antics that annoyed her so; she'd welcome anything that would make her feel completely happy again.

Wanting a change of scenery, Marigold decided to go downstairs to see if there was someone she could talk to. She descended the stairs into the servant's hall and immediately knew exactly who she wanted to speak to. With a little hop in her step, Marigold made her way to Thomas Barrow's small office. The door was open when she arrived but she saw that the butler was reading the newspaper. Not wanting to startle him, Marigold gently knocked on the open door, which caused Barrow to look up from the paper. He immediately smiled at Marigold and stood.

"Miss Marigold," he greeted. "What brings you down here? Do you need something?"

Marigold lingered by the doorway, not wanting to seem too imposing. "I don't need anything really other than some good company. Would you be that for me? If you're busy, I understand."

Barrow bowed slightly. "It would be an honor to be your company, Miss Marigold. Have a seat."

"Thank you!" Marigold giggled, rushing in to sit in the chair near his desk.

With a smile still on his face, Barrow sat down and faced her. "Now, what's on your mind?"

"Well," Marigold began slowly. "I heard Donk, Papa, and Uncle Henry talking about something upstairs and it frightened me."

"And what was that?"

"War," Marigold said grimly. "They said something about preparing Downton Abbey for an air raid or something such as that, I'm not entirely sure. Whatever it was, I didn't like it. I don't want Downton Abbey to be destroyed or any part of England, as a matter of fact."

Barrow frowned and hesitated before responding. He did not like those thoughts either but in times of war, everyone had to be prepared for anything and everything. He didn't want to scare the young girl, however, but he did not want to lie to her either. "Well, Miss Marigold," he began carefully, "I think it's always good to be prepared no matter what, not just in war but in anything. For example, in the pantry, we have extra plates and glasses just in case something breaks during dinner. Now, do plates and glasses get broken often during dinner?"

"Not at all," Marigold said. "Actually, there was one incident…"

"Exactly," Barrow nodded. "Now, we quickly replaced the broken glass with a new one and there, all was well! Imagine if we had not been prepared with an extra glass? Someone would have been without a drink and very unhappy."

Marigold laughed softly. "That is true!"

"And that's why we must always be prepared for the small things and the big. They may not happen at all or maybe even just once but knowing that we all have knowledge on how to fix that situation makes everyone feel better."

Marigold smiled, immediately feeling some comfort in his words. "You're right, Barrow. I never thought of it that way. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Barrow said. He then folded the newspaper and placed it in a drawer, not wanting any headlines to worry Marigold. "How are your cousins? Have you spoken to them?"

Marigold shook her head softly. "I haven't. I keep meaning to write to Sybil but I'd much rather see her in person. Perhaps I can have mother take me to London soon."

"That may be a good idea. I'm sure Miss Sybil would love to see you. You'll see her for Christmas, won't you?"

"Oh, yes!" Marigold beamed. "She will be home for Christmas. I hope George will too! Having them both home for Christmas would make everything absolutely perfect again."

Barrow chuckled. "I'm sure we all would feel the same way."

Marigold nodded in response and took a quick glance around the room before looking back at Barrow. "You fought in the Great War, didn't you?"

Marigold noticed Barrow straighten up in his seat. His brows furrowed for just a second and Marigold could see that the topic made him uncomfortable. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Ah, no, it's quite alright," Thomas said, forcing a smile. "I was trained as a medic for the war. I never really wanted to actually fight. I ended up in the trenches though, with your uncle."

"Uncle Matthew?"

"Yes. It was… really one of the worst experiences of my life. I still have nightmares about it but I'm alright now. Being in those trenches was really like being in a nightmare, though."

Marigold stared at Barrow as he spoke, his eyes staring straight ahead of him as though he were watching his memories before him. She said nothing and waited for him to continue, which he did.

"You see suffering everywhere and all you hear is - well, I don't need to tell you that," Barrow said, exhaling with a nervous chuckle.

Marigold tilted her head in curiosity. "How did you get out of the trenches?" She asked him. She saw his eyes quickly glance down at his hand before looking back at her.

"I was shot in the hand," he said quietly. "Once you're hurt badly, you're not useful anymore so they get you out."

Marigold's mouth hung open slightly in surprise. "You were shot! Oh, Barrow, that must have been terrible!"

"It was extremely terrible," Barrow said to her. "I'm glad it's all over with. Now, let's talk about something else shall we? That's a part of my life I don't really enjoy revisiting."

"I understand. Hm, what else should we talk about?" Marigold asked as she tried to think of a new subject. She had a new found admiration for Thomas Barrow; he had been through so much.

Suddenly, a bell sounded from the wall and both Marigold and Barrow looked over. Barrow immediately stood and went to the door. "I'm needed in the drawing room. Would you like to join me, Miss Marigold?"

With a smile, Marigold got up from the chair and joined his side. "Yes! Let's go see what my demanding grandfather wants," she giggled.

Sybil hummed softly to herself as she replaced the sheets of a now empty hospital bed. Her lectures that morning had gone well and after, she and Grace were scheduled to help with the hospital's laundry. For almost three hours, the two had been replacing old linens with new ones and making sure each bed was ready for a new patient. The work wasn't difficult at all and she and Grace were actually enjoying their time working.

"I think these blankets are softer than the ones they give us upstairs," Grace said with a smirk as she fluffed a pillow.

"Grace!" Sybil whispered with a giggle. "Don't say things like that. If Sister Agnes heard you, she'll send you out onto the street."

Grace laughed and set the pillow down. "It's the truth, though!"

Sybil shook her head and finished tucking in the bedsheet. She then went over to the small trolley of blankets she had been pushing down the wards and brought it to the next empty bed. "This is our last one, Grace."

"Already?" Grace said as she walked over. "That was fast! We finished quickly, I'd say!"

"We really did," Sybil smiled as she removed the old linens. "We make a wonderful team."

"We do," Grace said. As she removed the pillowcase from the pillow, she couldn't help but glance out the window behind her. The sight of the rain made her shiver. "You can feel how cold it is outside just by standing next to this window. We'll have to tell a nurse to put coal in the heater. Can you believe it's already the 2nd of November? I can't."

"I can't believe it," Sybil said, looking out the window too. Grey clouds rested above London, which made the world look grey. "I do enjoy November, though."

Grace made a face. "Why?" She asked as she grabbed a new pillowcase from the trolley. "All November brings is the cold."

"And Thanksgiving!" Sybil smiled. She leaned over the bed and began to replace the sheets. "I always look forward to Thanksgiving."

Grace stopped changing the pillowcase and stared at Sybil. She started to giggle but covered her mouth so that she wouldn't bother any nearby patients. "Sybil, you are too much. Thanksgiving, really? That's an American holiday."

Sybil wasn't sure why Grace had giggled, but she couldn't help but smile. "I know, Grace. My father and I celebrate Thanksgiving together at home and it's always so special."

Has she gone mad? Grace chuckled in disbelief and stared at her friend. "You celebrate Thanksgiving in Downton?"

Sybil shook her head. "No, in Boston. Boston, Massachusetts."

Grace's head suddenly felt like it was spinning. Boston? "What?" She asked in utter shock. The tone of her voice alarmed Sybil and she looked at Grace. Suddenly, it dawned upon Sybil what she had just revealed. She covered her mouth as though she could take the words back but it was too late. Mentally, she scolded herself for saying anything at all before thinking. As she lowered her hand from her mouth, she began to think of ways to explain herself but Grace was already ready with questions.

"Sybil," Grace said her name in a serious tone. "Sybil, you're from Boston? The United States?"

Sybil wanted to pull the hospital bed curtain out and cower behind it but she had to answer the questions coming at her. "Not originally, no," she said slowly. "I was born in Downton. I am from Downton, Grace."

"So you say," Grace said sharply. "But you just said Massachusetts is your home. Sybil, you told me that you were from a village called Downton, not once did you ever mention you lived in the United States. How long have you lived there and what on earth are you doing here?"

Sybil glanced around the room quickly to see if anyone was being nosy, but the other patients and nurses were preoccupied with more important matters. Still, Sybil spoke quietly. "I was born in Downton and when I was around five years old, my father and I left to start a new life in America. The rest of my family still resides in Downton and we visit them frequently. We arrived there in September for my birthday celebration and after the war was announced, I wanted to serve England by training to be a nurse just as my mother did. I would be back in Boston now if it weren't for the war announcement. My father is back in Boston right now for the time being to check on our home and his auto shop."

Grace couldn't believe what she was hearing. She began to feel hurt that Sybil had not told her any of this previously. "What? Why haven't you told me any of this, Sybil? We're friends! I don't understand why you haven't told me about this. I told you all about myself and my family when I met you."

Sybil sighed. "I know, Grace, and I'm sorry, but I just didn't… I don't know, I just didn't know how you would react if I had told you earlier."

"I would have been perfectly fine with it all, Sybil! What's there to hide? I would have loved to have heard about your life in America. You rarely tell me anything. I don't even know much about your family other than you all living on a farm."

Sybil bit her lip as Grace finished speaking. Nervously, she fiddled with the sleeve of her uniform. Her gestures frustrated Grace and she let out a low groan. "There is no farm, is there? Your cousin, George, said you lived on your grandparent's farm."

Drat, George! Sybil began to distract herself with the sheets again. "Ah, no, there is no farm, Grace."

"No farm?" Grace cried.

"Shh! Well, there is a farm in Downton but we don't live there."

"Sybil, you lied to me and I don't understand why! You've been lying to me, Sarah, and Peter, and everyone," Grace said in a quieter tone. "So there's no farm. What's next? Don't tell me your family lives in a castle instead."

Sybil opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Grace didn't need words, however; Sybil had already revealed the truth. "You do!" Grace said, placing her hands over her face. "Your family lives in a castle? Is Downton even a place?"

The truth was all out now and Sybil couldn't deny anything anymore. "Yes," she began warily. "I was born in Downton Abbey. My grandfather is the Earl of Grantham and most of my family still resides in Downton Abbey. Grace, I was never lying to you, I-"

"You're an earl's granddaughter?" Grace asked, holding onto the trolley for support. She wanted to laugh but all she could do was glare at Sybil. "It all makes sense. You and your cousins have this air about you, I mentioned it before. You three act differently. Now I know you three were waited on all your lives."

"I was not waited on my entire life," Sybil said; now she was becoming frustrated. "Grace, please don't be upset. I was going to tell you eventually, I just-"

Grace interrupted her again. "No, I'm not upset," she said rather calmly. "I understand perfectly. You didn't want to tell the poor girl from Bristol that you live in luxury because you didn't want her to cause trouble for you or take advantage, is that right? Or perhaps the lie of you all living on a farm would be easier for her to understand. What would I know of nobility?"

Sybil was shocked. "Of course not, Grace! I could never think of you that way!"

Grace stuck her nose up in the air and set the pillow down on the bed. "Well, it doesn't matter anymore. I thought we were friends, Sybil. I've known you longer than I've known Sarah and she felt comfortable telling me that she's Jewish and from Poland but you can't even say you're practically an heiress living in both America and England. No wonder you were unassigned from washing dishes the first week. You didn't want to dirty your hands unlike the rest of us poor girls. You probably expected special treatment."

Sybil sucked in her breath as she felt the hurt of Grace's words. "Grace, that was Sister Agnes' doing, I never wanted or expected special treatment. Grace, you've lived with me for over a month now, when have I ever desired special treatment? I do everything the rest of the girls here do."

"That doesn't change the fact that you've been lying to your friends about yourself," Grace muttered as she stepped away from the hospital bed. "You can finish the bed. I'm going to the library to study. I'll see you later." Grace promptly turned around and quickly walked out of the ward.

Sybil watched as she left, not calling out after her. She felt absolutely terrible. She understood that Grace was hurt but Sybil had never meant to hurt her and did not expect her to be this upset. She was worried that she lost Grace's trust and Grace would surely tell Sarah all about it, which may cause Sarah to distrust Sybil too. Sybil sighed deeply and kept a stiff upper lip as she put a clean pillowcase over the pillow and fluffed it. Once that was finished, Sybil slowly took the trolly back to the laundry area and closed the door behind her. She walked through the hospital halls in silence, placing one hand in the apron pocket of her uniform. She wanted to make herself small as the sadness began to overwhelm her. She blinked quickly so that the ready tears could escape. Once they did, she wiped them away quickly, not wanting anyone passing by to see.

As she walked down the hall near her living quarters, she saw Peter entering the hallway through a side door. Sybil stopped walking and panicked; he couldn't see her upset like this and she really wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone at the moment. Turning the other way, she began to walk where she had just come from but Peter had already spotted her.

"Sybil Branson!"

Sybil continued walking down the hall, pretending not to hear Peter, but she could hear his footsteps catching up to her.

"Oi! Branson!" Peter laughed as he joined her side. "Are you ignoring me?"

Sybil stopped walking and glanced at him. "Oh, Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."

"That's alright," Peter smiled. "Are you done with work?"

Sybil nodded in response.

"Where are you off to now?"

Sybil glanced in the opposite direction. "Upstairs, I think. I have to study," she said.

Peter smirked and crossed his arms. "Well, you're headed in the wrong direction if you want to go upstairs to your room, silly."

Sybil feigned a light laugh. "Am I? Oh, you're right. Silly me. It's been quite the day."

"It has, it has," Peter said. He then began to look around the hall, almost nervously, and the looked at Sybil. More than once, he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, as though he were mentally going over what exactly he wanted to say. Sybil watched him before taking a step away from him.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but I really-"

"Wait, just a moment," Peter said. "I, ah, wanted to ask you something. There's a dance soon at a nearby hall and I remember you said you love to dance so I was wondering if you would like to go to it together."

Peter spoke so quickly and Sybil's mind was so focused on the ordeal that had just taken place with Grace that she did not have time to process what was being said. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't remember the exact date but I will find out as soon as possible. What do you say? Will you go with me?"

"To a dance?" Sybil asked. She understood now. Attending a dance did sound like it would be nice but the only man she only ever wanted to dance with was Edward. However, Peter must have understood that they were only friends. If they were to attend as just friends, there would be no harm in it. She did not want to fully commit, though, as she needed to be in a better state of mind to give him an answer. "When you find out the details, I'll give you an answer. My studies are more demanding now and I need to be sure I'm focused."

Peter nodded understandingly. "Of course, Sybil. That's a good idea. I'll find out as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Sybil sighed.

Peter could sense something was not right with Sybil and he couldn't help but ask her what was wrong. "Sybil, is everything alright? You seem upset?"

Sybil forced a small smile. "I'm not upset, Peter. I'm just tired. As I said, it's been quite the day. I really need to go and study. I'll see you soon," she said, leaving Peter where he stood.

Quickly, Sybil made her way down the hall and up the stairs to the living quarters. When she entered the room, it was empty. A small sob escaped her as she went to her bed and lay down, hugging her pillow to her. The knowledge that Grace was upset with her bothered her so much and she wasn't sure how she could make things right; she would have to wait until Grace forgave her. As she lay there in her bed, Sybil felt completely alone. She missed her father, her cousins, her family, and Edward. She knew she would be home in less than two months but the distance she felt from them weighed heavy on her. Letters and telephone calls could not suffice for the true completeness she felt when she was with her family and she yearned to feel that feeling again.