"Will I 'eck as like," was Miss O'Brien's reply to the request. William looked taken aback. "I've got her Ladyship to see to, you'll have to ask Anna or Gwen."

"I'll do it," Gwen rose hurriedly and followed William away from the table. He looked extremely grateful.

Although her flat refusal to help William earned her a familiar feeling of resentment from the other members of staff gathered around the table, Miss O'Brien appeared not to notice and appeared not to notice and continued her sewing without acknowledging that they were even there. Mrs Hughes, seated at the head of the table in Mr Carson's usual chair delicately cleared her throat: no response.

"Miss O'Brien," she began, her cough having fallen upon- selectively- deaf ears. O'Brien looked up with a haughty irritation, "Don't you think had better see to her Ladyship, Mr Carson is about to ring the dressing gong."

"He's about to in five minutes," O'Brien replied, "I don't see why I can't wait until then."

"Just do it, Miss O'Brien, just do it."

Anna had to hand it to Mrs Hughes, at times- particularly in handling Miss O'Brien, the woman had nerves of steel.

"Shouldn't you be telling Anna to see to the girls as well, then?" O'Brien wanted to know.

Mrs Hughes was ready for her.

"As you know, Miss O'Brien, Lady Edith is away visiting his Lordship's cousin in Oxfordshire with her aunt. Lady Mary has been invited to dine at Crawley house tonight and Lady Sybil requested not to be woken until the last moment- I don't think the girl is well at the moment. So, no, Miss O'Brien; I would wager that five minutes have now passed during this worthless discuss. Kindly attend to her Ladyship."

Although Miss O'Brien left in silence she did not go quietly. For the most part she kept her eyes fixed on the table as she rose, glowering all the while and threw the housekeeper a look of the utmost distaste as she passed. Mrs Hughes, Anna would have guessed, had probably noticed but bore it with a composure that betrayed no evidence that any kind of hostility had passed between the herself and the maid. Miss O'Brien's departure, all parties seemed to realise too late, had left Mrs Hughes alone at the table with Anna and Mr Bates.

Mrs Hughes sat with the same straight back that Anna had seen her with earlier in the week in her office. The room was suddenly so quiet that every sound seemed to be magnified. The housekeeper gave another delicate cough and looked back at the pillow case she was mending. Although Mr Bates had not been party the discussions that had taken place between the two women but it was painfully obvious that something was wrong such was the tension between them. Across the table he exchanged half a frown with Anna. She shook her gently in response- it would take far too much explaining and it would be better on the whole if he did not ask. Mrs Hughes was stitching away furiously.

"I'd better go and see to his Lordship," Mr Bates finally announced.

Anna did not blame him, she would have escaped if she could- if Mrs Hughes did not know exactly how long she could reasonably detain her for. She smiled to him as he got up but looked abruptly down again, determined not to accidentally catch the housekeeper's eye. Mrs Hughes, it seemed, was not about to let that get in her way. She watched Mr Bates depart, Anna could see out of the corner of her eye and her felt the same eyes fix upon her once he had gone. Anna said nothing: if Mrs Hughes wanted to lecture her, she was going to have to find her own introduction. She evidently needed no help with that either.

"Have you had a chance, Anna, to think about what I said the other day?"

Anna was marginally surprised by the softness of the tone in which the housekeeper spoke, so much so that her eyes left the table and she looked up.

"I have, Mrs Hughes," she responded.

It was truthful: in one way or another she had been pondering the subject in one way or another ever since their initial conversation. At times she had felt indignation at Mrs Hughes' forwardness when her position was based on so little actual evidence. Then, at others, she found herself wondering where the basis- apart from Miss O'Brien's remarks- had come from in the first place. The housekeeper raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"And?"

Anna was not quite sure how to elaborate and was certain that she didn't want to, however Mrs Hughes' expression showed no sign of becoming anything other than inquisitive.

"Circumstances between Mr Bates and I are rather... complicated at the moment," she began carefully.

"Aren't they always?"

Anna was unsure as to whether Mrs Hughes was trying to admonish her or give her comfort. Judging by the look on her face, she was not exactly sure herself. There was nothing Anna could do but remain silent. She watched the frown grow on Mrs Hughes' face and the housekeeper put her hand half-over her eye for a moment. It seemed that she was excessively distracted.

"Anna," she said finally, "I am responsible for your welfare while you are here at Downton. Now you may deny it, you may not even realise it yourself, but it seems to me that you are abundantly attached to Mr Bates. I have reminded you of the house rules regarding your position and gentleman callers...-"

"I don't see that he's really a caller, Mrs Hughes," Anna interrupted, "If you'll pardon me, he lives here too and so doesn't really 'call' however you look at it."

"The principle if exactly the same," Mrs Hughes pointed out. She looked at Anna with something between pity and exasperation, "Anna, you are so young to be getting involved with a man like this. Consider: you have your whole future ahead of you, a great career in service. Would it not be foolish to throw it all away so early?"

"Would it be throwing it away," Anna wanted to know, "If it was for something better?"

This seemed, she thought, to take the housekeeper by surprise.

Indeed it had, there was no answer that Elsie could give to this question; how could she know herself?

Anna was already sitting up in bed by the time Gwen came upstairs.

"You're early," her friend remarked.

Anna looked up from the book in her lap.

"I fancied an early night," she replied.

"I thought you were just frightened of Mrs Hughes."

"How do you know about that?"

Gwen grinned, removing her apron and hanging it up.

"You didn't say anything all through dinner and pushed your face at the plate every time she looked in your direction. And you left like a shot as soon as you'd finished."

Anna had obviously never given Gwen the due credit for her observance. The young maid clambered into her nightdress and sat down cross-legged on her bed facing Anna.

"What've you done and what's she said to you about it?"

"You don't half ask a question!" Anna remarked with a grin. Then she saw that Gwen was not about to be deterred by this accusation and so continued: "It's after what O'Brien said to me. She's convinced that me and Bates are... I don't know: walking out or something."

"So... you're not?"

Anna stared at her.

"No Gwen, we're not! Don't tell me you think we are as well!"

The uncomfortable look on Gwen's face did not bode well.

"Well," she began with great unease, "Everyone's sort of thought that for a while now."

This was certainly news to Anna.

"Who's everyone?" she wanted to know.

Gwen shrugged.

"Well, Mrs Patmore and Miss O'Brien. And William, though he doesn't often say. And now Daisy."

If this was indeed true, Anna thought, then Mrs Hughes had had more evidence to support her claims than she had initially supposed. If, as this week's events had indicated, her aptitude for listening into conversations was indeed that strong, it was hardly surprising that she had felt herself sufficiently grounded to approach Anna about it. Having felt angry with Mrs Hughes before, Anna's displeasure was now turned to the rest of the staff.

"The talk in this house!" she murmured angrily, shuffling down her bed to lie and throwing the cover around herself. She turned so her back was to Gwen.

"I'm sorry, Anna," came Gwen's voice, "None of us meant any harm. We- well most of us, you know what Miss O'Brien's like- are really pleased for you."

"You could explain that to Mrs Hughes," Anna muttered, but found she did not have the will to remain angry at Gwen- after all she herself was equally as bad the rest of the time.

There was silence for a moment.

"It's fine Gwen," Anna eventually managed, "I know you don't mean it in a bad way. I'm pretty certain that Sarah O'Brien does though."

Gwen laughed as she moved to blow out the candle.

"That you can be sure of," she remarked, "Goodnight Anna."

"Goodnight Gwen."

It must have been at least two hours since she had extinguished her light, Elise thought, and her mind did not show any signs of allowing her any rest. However, she was determined not to be extravagant with her use of the candles- at least in that respect she could set a good example- and so remained in the dark. She turned over to face the wall. The bed sheet had somehow become tangled around her and she couldn't get her pillow to rest comfortably under her head. She shoved her wrist under her temple to try to help her gain a feeling of balance.

She was still feeling guilty about Anna. There was no escaping the fact that she had absolutely no right to tell the girl how to behave; her own position in the house- with regard to the standards of her behaviour- made the very idea of it all the more laughable. But that same position bound her to do, to say something. It was not a duty that she would usually shirk away from and that made it all the more important that she do it- lest she start overhearing conversations that she was the topic of. The image of Mrs Patmore or Miss O'Brien or Thomas gossiping about her having a fancy man, or worse still, slacking in her duties made her all the more uneasy and feel all the more awake. She shuffled a little where she lay, trying to dispel the thought.

The wall although plain and light became her focal point. Her bed was practically touching it. Absent-mindedly her hand reached out and brushed the smooth faded wallpaper. She paused as a thought suddenly rendered her rigid. Her room was the one next to the door separating the male and female servants' quarters: as the housekeeper it stood to reason as she was responsible for opening it. Charles, as her counterpart on the male staff, occupied the room next to the door on the other side. His bed, as was hers, was positioned directly next to the wall but on the right-hand side of the room as opposed to the left- she had noticed when Anna and Gwen had been cleaning it. The thought that aside from a single thin column of bricks and wall paper Charles and she were practically lying in the same bed was the last one she needed now.

She turned abruptly away, dragging the blanket with her. The pillow was colder on this side and she was able to settle better. She shuffled backwards again into her usual position, until she remembered the proximity of the wall to her back. The thought of Charles lying behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, head resting by hers was enough to send her from the bed convinced that she would never get any sleep there. She paced to the opposite wall and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon her knees. It was no good, she could still see the barrier that separated them. She crossed to her window sill, this would have to do. Fortunately it was sufficiently wide for her to use it as a seat. She rested her forehead against the glass and watched her breathe condense against the glass.

How would he react?- she thought, how would he react if I went to him? Now? Adversely, was the only conclusion she could come to. That would be her job gone, effectively. She could never carry on here after he turned her away, although she sure enough that he would have the could grace to hide her shame to save her in the eyes of others, it was only his opinion that mattered to her at the moment. But would she even want a job at Downton, without him being there for her every evening? He was sure to keep his distance if he only knew the effect he was having on her.

Elsie felt wretched but did not want to cry: she felt instead an overwhelming bitterness towards the state of her affairs. She was cross with herself for letting them become that way but, as much as she wanted to, she could not feel cross with him. It was she and she alone who had allowed this extremely awkward situation to arise.

I have no plan at all for this story so you will have to tell me if you want me to write more. I am quite enjoying writing for Anna but I'm not sure how well I'm doing it and I'm wondering if I have knocked Mrs Hughes a little out of character. Please tell me what you think.