I'm surprised it's taken me this long to write again but the last few months have taken their toll on me. Thank you for the reviews of the last chapter and for the expressions of concern for my health. I am finally home and walking with a cane but some days my legs still really hurt - so I still have quite a ways to go. Hope you enjoy this chapter and as always reviews would be welcomed.

"I think … what … how … I'm just not sure" a befuddled Carson stammered as he and Mrs. Hughes made their way across the empty servants hall towards his office. Neither had spoken a word as they had left the library and slowly walked down the servants' staircase, the silence broken only by the click of their footsteps on the stone stairs. Entering his office Carson immediate walked to his desk and wearily sat down in his chair while Mrs. Hughes remained standing just inside the doorway. "It will be …" he sighed again before staring blankly at the wall.

It wasn't often that the stately butler was flummoxed and at another time Mrs. Hughes might have found it rather endearing. As she had walked down the stairs she had felt a bit overwhelmed but now in the butler's office she became her usual practical self.

"We'll have to-" she began but as if he hadn't heard her Carson said "So the war comes to Downton. Mrs. Crawley got her way."

"I think the war has been here for some time Mr. Carson."

"Well yes … but to now actually have soldiers sleeping in the drawing room and lounging in" he looked at her "where will they lounge? Or dine?"

"That will be up to his lordship" she retorted.

He snickered. "More likely Mrs. Crawley I imagine"

"His lordship may have agreed to the house becoming a convalescent ward but I'm sure he will not give Mrs. Crawley free reign. What we need to do now Mr. Carson is consider how this will affect our work and as his lordship asked come to him with any issues we foresee."

"We do have a few days" she continued. "It will take the army some time to bring in cots and-"

"I never thought I'd see cots in the grand salon." As if he wasn't hearing her Carson had once again interrupted her. With his elbows resting on the desk top he leaned over and rubbed his right hand across his forehead.

Thinking there was no use trying to talk him at this time and aware that she too had mixed feelings on the subject of the house being used as a convalescent ward she said "I think I'll take a short break outside. Maybe some fresh air will clear my head."

Although it was sunny the air still had a nip to it as if to let one know that winter hadn't fully departed despite trees sporting newly green leaves and buds sprouting on many of the flowering shrubs. As she walked through the courtyard Mrs. Hughes stopped to take a closer look at the line of roses that bordered the stone wall. Bending over to get a closer look she thought it would still be a several weeks before the barely visible buds began to open.

"Are ya thinking of becoming a gardener?" The chauffeur's Irish lilt held a hint of laughter.

Straightening up but still facing the roses she said "Some days it does seem appealing."

"Aye just think of being out here in the sunshine with a warm breeze caressing your cheek" he teased.

"And what of those cold winter days with a howling wind or" she tilted her head to look up at the sky "those days of drenching rain?" she replied.

"And who might come looking for ya on those days?" He laughed. "Those are the days ya hide out in one of those big greenhouses or better yet warming yerself sitting by the stove in the gardener's shed."

"The gardeners have a shed with a stove?" she asked.

"Ya don't know much of what goes on around here outside of that servants hall." He chuckled. "Anyway, it's grand just seeing ya here taking some time to admire the roses. It will only be a matter of weeks before this courtyard will be perfumed with their sweet scent and just standing here in the sunshine will make ya forget if even only for a few minutes the trouble around you."

She turned and looked at him just as a light breeze ruffled his hair causing her to think he looked like a ray of sunshine himself. Her "quite a bit of the blarney this morning Mr. Branson" caused him to laugh.

As he did a mock bow he said "we Irish do have a way with words." While she might have thought he looked like a bit of sunshine he thought she seemed as if something was weighing on her mind. He lifted his head and looked around. "So what is troubling you today?"

"And did I say I was troubled?"

"In my job I've learned to observe people … to know if I … well let's just say sometimes it's the eyes or the way one stands that speaks for them" he softly replied.

She nodded her head. "Well you have read me this morning Mr. Branson. It appears that Downton is going to be a convalescent ward."

He smiled. "So Lady Sybil talked her father into it."

"Lady Sybil?" Mrs. Hughes creased her brows. "I thought it was Mrs. Crawley's idea."

He shrugged his shoulders. "A month or so ago Lady Sy—I mean Nurse Crawley and Thomas began working with a patient that had been blinded by gas. They were helping him cope with his new dark world but Dr. Clarkson said since the man no longer needed medical help he was to be transferred to a convalescent home some ways away from here. Both Nurse Crawley and Thomas thought the patient was making progress and wanted to continue working with him as did the patient but Dr. Clarkson was adamant that his bed was needed for someone requiring medical attention."

"The morning the young man was to be transferred he-" Tom looked down at the ground and moved his right foot sideways back and forth as if tracing a line and when he spoke again his voice was sober "he killed himself."

"Oh!" gasped Mrs. Hughes.

Tom nodded his head as he took a deep breath. "Lady Sybil and Thomas were both devastated."

"So Lady Sybil thought if he'd" she looked towards the house "had been able to stay here he wouldn't have done it."

Once again Tom nodded. "Thomas as well thought that."

"It's nice to hear Thomas can actually …" her head tilted and her sight seemed to drift to some distance point. When she spoke again her voice was soft. "We didn't know about this young soldier. When his lordship told us this morning we just thought it was Mrs. Crawley's-"

"I'm guessing" he interrupted her "you're talking of you and Mr. Carson."

She nodded her head. He continued "Mr. Carson hates the thought of Private Joe Farmer sitting in the grand salon or sleeping in a bed graced by the likes of the Duke of Cheeseborough or Lady Astor."

Mrs. Hughes couldn't help but chuckle.

Tom continued "or the thought of nurses and I mean not one like volunteer debutante Lady Charlotta Butterworth-Jones coming and going through those grand doors of Downton rather than up and down the servants' stairs. But you" he looked directly at her "wonder about what extra work this will put on you and your staff."

She had to smile at his perceptiveness. "I barely have enough housemaids to do the work now" Mrs. Hughes said. "And it will be only for officers so no Private Joe Farmer.

"Of course" Branson smirked "much better the patients be a Viscount or the second sons of Earls masquerading as Majors or Lieutenants." Then dropping the hint of bitterness he asked "What staff is the army providing?"

"Mrs. Hughes" one of the house maids called out as she came towards them causing both Branson and the housekeeper to turn in her direction. "Lady Crawley wants to see you in the drawing room."

"That Mr. Branson is quite the question" Mrs. Hughes said before walking towards the house.

"We don't get to do this very often anymore" Mrs. Patmore said as she settled on to one of the wooden chairs that graced either end of the table in Mrs. Hughes' sitting room while Mrs. Hughes busied herself pouring each of them a cup of tea. As she placed the china tea pot back on the wooden tray that took up almost half of the table Mrs. Patmore smiled. "With so many people coming and going here these days it isn't often so quiet here anymore." Mrs. Hughes knew she was referring to the cooks the army had provided to service the patients. "And" Mrs. Patmore continued "It is nice to be waited on."

Rather amused Mrs. Hughes made an exaggerated display of picking up the knife. "Shall I serve you a slice of this my lady" she said as she tapped the knife against the top of the remaining part of a small loaf of a tea bread.

Straightening her back as to look so prim and proper Mrs. Patmore responded "Why yes I do believe I'll have a slice" which caused both ladies to giggle as if they were school girls.

They were quiet as they both settled into their chairs and took a couple of sips of tea. After taking a bite of the bread that was loaded with dried fruits and some spices Mrs. Hughes said "this is quite good. It reminds me of a tea bread my mother used to make."

"It is good" Mrs. Patmore agreed. "I must admit it was made by that Irish girl, the one that is baking for the patients upstairs."

Mrs. Hughes was quite surprised to hear her be so complimentary. Mrs. Patmore had made such a fuss when she thought she would have to do the cooking for the convalescent patients as well as for the family but the arrival of four young women to do the cooking hadn't actually pacified her. How am I going to cook for the family with these women taking over my kitchen she had wailed. But eventually it had all been sorted out although Mrs. Patmore was known to still grumble at times about the invaders as she called the army cooks.

"Do you know which one I mean?" Without waiting for a response Mrs. Patmore leaned in towards Mrs. Hughes and almost whispered "I think she and Mr. Branson might have something going on."

Now this surprised Mrs. Hughes. "I think I know which one is Irish, the pretty one with the blondish hair?"

Mrs. Patmore nodded. "That's the one."

"Whatever makes you think she and-"

"He always chats her up when he comes into the kitchen, laugh a lot they do and I've seen the two of them sitting out in the servants hall when no one else is around. Although they're often chatting in a foreign babble so I can't tell what they talking about."

"Speaking Irish I guess" Mrs. Hughes said as she wondered how she hadn't noticed this. Maybe she was too occupied with keeping Ethel from being too chummy with a certain Major to have noticed.

Mrs. Patmore nodded "Like I said, some foreign babble."

Mrs. Hughes laughed. "I doubt they consider Irish foreign babble."

Although it really wasn't her business, after all neither the chauffeur nor certain the army cook worked for her, Mrs. Hughes thought she would pay a little more attention as to what might be going on around her regarding the pair. Maybe, thought Mrs. Hughes, he's over his infatuation with Lady Sybil and that would certainly be a good thing for both he and Lady Sybil. In the week following her conversation with Mrs. Patmore she had seen the lass a couple of times in the kitchen but never in the company of Branson.

Not that she had spent much time pondering the issue for Mrs. Hughes had far too much work of her own to occupy her time. It had now been almost a month later and as Mrs. Hughes sat at her desk the clattering of some dropped pans and Mrs. Patmore's raised voice caused her to look up from the invoices she was reviewing. Although Mrs. Patmore's words were indistinguishable there was no mistaking her tone and a moment or two later Carson appeared in her doorway looking rather flustered. Without a word he barged into the housekeeper's sitting room and practically plopped into the chair in front of her desk.

"As if it's not enough that the Crawleys and Miss Swire are coming to dinner tonight we're now also entertaining Sir Richard Carlisle" he announced.

"So that's what the fuss coming from the kitchen just now was about."

"I know Mrs. Hughes this is all rather last minute but I expect you'll take this better than Mrs. Patmore but I've just been informed that Sir Richard Carlisle will be arriving late this afternoon and a room needs to be made up for him." He put his hand up as if to ward off any retort. "I know it seems like the man was just here."

Resigned she nodded her head. "I'll put him in the same room as last time. He had no complaints about it."

Carson nodded his head. "I just don't understand what she sees in him."

Mrs. Hughes didn't need to ask who she was. "He's so harsh and cold" While Carson continued speaking Mrs. Hughes thought that could describe Lady Mary herself. "She deserves some one much better than him."

"I know you think the world of Lady Mary" Mrs. Hughes injected "but she did throw away her chance with Mr. Crawley."

"As if that timid mousy Miss Swire could replace Lady Mary" an indignant Carson replied "or for that matter can fill the role of mistress of Downton. I can't imagine her as the Countess of Grantham."

"Well I don't think anyone could ever accuse Lady Mary of being timid or mousy and many would say she's cold." This time it was the housekeeper who raised her hand to ward off any disagreement with the butler. "Lady Mary is a subject we will probably never agree on."

Carson shook his head. "You don't know her Mrs. Hughes … not like I do." His eyes seem to light up and a small smile crossed his face. "Oh she was such a bright little girl. She'd come down here and sit in my office and look at me with those big dark eyes and ask me to read to her or sometimes she'd just sit in a chair beside my desk saying she just needed a quiet place to draw or she'd sit and talk about her pony and how I should come watch her ride."

"So wise beyond her years she was. Sometimes she'd ask me the difference between a salad spoon and a soup spoon or the different types of forks and where they go on the table. Said she needed to know all that stuff for when she'd be the Countess. I know you think she's cold and uncaring but I remember a time when Lady Sybil must have been about five or six and she was very ill, so ill it was thought we might lose her and Lady Mary would come down here and cry about not being able to sit with her little sister. I remember her sitting in my lap, tears streaming down her face saying 'my little sister can't die Carson she just can't' and asking me what she could do to make her better. Or the time little Lady Sybil broke her arm and Mary asked the cook to serve ice cream every night because that would make her sister feel better."

Mrs. Hughes didn't say anything, she just let the butler go on with his memories describing a Lady Mary that was nothing like the one the housekeeper knew.

"Well I've rambled enough" Carson finally said. He stood up. "I need to find the houseboy to tell Branson about meeting Sir Richard's train."

It wasn't the houseboy but Mrs. Hughes herself who, needing a break from her work, ventured off to the garage to find the chauffeur. She found him in the garage's courtyard standing beside a blue roadster, his tan overalls with smudges of grease as evidence he had been working on the unfamiliar motor car. "Certainly his lordship hasn't bought a new motor car" she said eying the shiny motor with its retractable top down revealing light leather seats.

"I wish" Branson replied. He ran his gloved hand across the top of the driver's door. "She's a real beauty and would be a treat to drive." He looked at Mrs. Hughes. "Alas she belongs to Miss Swire."

"Miss Swire has her own motor car?" an incredulous Mrs. Hughes asked.

Branson nodded his head. "A twenty-first birthday present from her father. Must be nice to get such expensive birthday presents. Not many woman can drive a motor car especially one like this. Quite adventurous I'd say to drive here from London."

Mrs. Hughes had to stifle a laugh hearing him called Miss Swire adventurous when Carson had described her as so timid and mousy.

"Aye lad" she answered. "So what is it doing here?"

"Oh they had some trouble with it on the drive down here and Mr. Matthew asked me to take a look at it."

"Tommy I found the box of -" Mrs. Hughes head turned at the speaker's Irish lilt and to her surprise it was the pretty blond cook that emerged from inside the garage.

"Oh hello" the lass said. "I didn't realize Tommy had a visitor."

"Evie this is Mrs. Hughes the housekeeper" and then turning towards Mrs. Hughes he said "you might have seen her in this kitchen as Evie's one of the cooks for the convalescent ward" and having noticed Mrs. Hughes astonished look he chuckled. "And my cousin."

"Cousin?"

Tom nodded his head but it was Evie who jumped in the conversation. "Our mums were sisters. I knew Tommy was working somewhere in Yorkshire but I had no idea it was here so imagine my surprise when I saw him sitting at that big table having a cuppa and reading a newspaper." Without seemingly taking a breath Evie laid the box down on the ground and continued "and where are my manners ma'am" she said as she held out her hand "I've seen you but we haven't really met.

"Pleased to meet you Evie. I had some of your delicious tea bread which so reminded me of something my mum used to make."

Evie laughed. "It's my mum's recipe so just don't tell anyone it's an Irish bread."

"So how did you end up working for the army as a cook?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"Well I was working for a grand lady not too far from Birmingham and when she died I didn't want to go home" Evie quickly glanced at Branson and Mrs. Hughes detected a glimmer of something silently pass between to the two. Turning her attention once again to Mrs. Hughes Evie continued "so when I heard the army and the Red Cross were looking for cooks I thought why not do that. I had been for months at one of those big auxiliary hospitals but when I heard about these convalescent places I thought it would be nicer to be in a country house."

"And has it been better?" asked Mrs. Hughes.

"Oh yes" an animated Evie replied. "It's not quite so demanding and it's nice having such easy access to fresh air, it gets so hot in those kitchens. Although sometimes the way Mrs. Patmore barks … oh!" Evie's eyes widened as her hand quickly covered her mouth.

Seeing Evie's embarrassment, Mrs. Hughes patted Evie's shoulder. "I'm afraid Mrs. Patmore can seem a bit … shall we say frightening at times."

The trio chatted a bit more before Mrs. Hughes uttered "Oh!" She looked at Branson. "My reason for coming here was to tell you you're to meet Sir Richard who will be arriving on the train at half past three."

Tom nodded. "Now that's someone I'm surprised doesn't have his own motor car. Rich man like that he can certainly afford it and he seems like the type that would prefer making his own schedule rather than relying on someone else's schedule."

Mrs. Hughes looked at Branson with her brow raised. "Sorry Mrs. Hughes not my place to comment on his lordship's guests."

"That's alright Mr. Branson. You do make an interesting point."

"If I had his money I'd" Branson turned to the roadster and once again ran his hand across the top of the driver's door "certainly have one of these little beauties."

Carson closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the sounds of the table tennis game … thwack … thwack … then ping … ping … ping as the little ball hit the wood floor permeated inside the library. After shaking his head in disgust he opened his eyes and noticed a young woman standing in front of the library shelves. At first he thought she must be one of the nurses but her dark skirt and blouse didn't quite seem like one of their uniforms.

"May I help you?" He inquired in his most pompous tone but if she detected any scorn or sneering she completely ignored it.

"I'm trying to find this book" she said without looking at him.

Surprised at her Irish accent, his long legs took him only three strides to stand next to her. "And just who are you?"

"Oh!" she said as she turned to look at him. Smiling broadly she responded "I'm Evie one of the army cooks, well actually the baker." She turned back to face the shelves of books. "It's a wonderful library they have here. I've been so pleased with it."

"Have you now" With furrowed brows he stared down at her wondering just who did she think she was. "Been so pleased with it?"

Someone watching the pair might have found it comical how the young woman either not realizing or more likely ignoring the older man's obvious disdain blithely babbled on. "Oh yes. I've found quite a few interesting books and Lady Sybil has told me about this one" she held out a slip of paper with The Riddle of the Sands Erskine Childers written on it "but I can't quite seem to find it."

She looked at him with her bright blue eyes and said "do you know where it might be or" she slightly shrugged her shoulders "maybe I should just ask Lady Sybil" and with that she breezed out of the library leaving a bewildered Carson staring at empty space.

"Are you alright Mr. Carson?"

Rapidly blinking his eyes, it took the butler a few moments to realize it was Mrs. Hughes standing in front of him. His rather sharply spoken "and what book might you be looking for" caught her off guard.

A puzzled Mrs. Hughes response of "Book?" was almost drowned out by the thwack … thwack … thwack of the table tennis ball.

"Rather annoying sound isn't it" Mrs. Hughes remarked but without giving the butler a chance to reply she continued on. "I was just meeting with her ladyship and Lady Edith in Lady Grantham's upstairs sitting room, on my way back downstairs I saw you standing here looking rather lost."

"Lost Mrs. Hughes … I'm not lost … I'm just-" He walked across the library towards her.

As they walked down the servants staircase she listened to him. "Everything just seems so topsy-turvy Mrs. Hughes. It's bad enough with those patients everywhere and people coming and going at all hours and seeing Thomas parading around with his puffed up chest running the place and now all sorts of people invading his lordship's library-" When he stopped to take a breath Mrs. Hughes injected "what … who is invading the library?"

"Just now I found one of the army's cooks no wait" he shuddered "baker she called herself acting as if it were some public library. Told me she had found quite a few interesting books and was now looking for one Lady Sybil had recommended. Surprised she wasn't looking for some political book like her fellow Irishman the chauffeur." He looked sharply at Mrs. Hughes. "What is Lady Sybil doing recommending books to one of the cooks? How does she even know this young lady?"

Although she too wondered just how Lady Sybil might have become friendly with Evie she didn't want to give Carson any alarming ideas. "Well Mr. Carson I imagine Lady Sybil has seen her doling out food to the patients and nurses at meal times. You know how friendly she can be and they're probably about the same age. Beside I do think the patients and staff have been given permission to use the library."

"But …" Carson shook his head.

Mrs. Hughes stifled a laugh. "So I guess now might not be a good time to tell you Lady Edith wants to put on a fete for the patients and their families. Lady Edith sees it as a morale booster for the men."

"A fete!" Carson thundered. "As if we don't have enough to do."

As they reached the bottom of the stairs Carson said. "And I thought it was disturbing that that Irish cook was in the library acting as if it were some public library."

Mrs. Hughes looked up to the ceiling. Better not tell him that Irish cook is Branson's cousin and that she's staying in the chauffeur's cottage.

On New Year's Eve Mrs. Hughes, hearing murmurs of talk coming from the servants hall, glanced up at the wall clock in her sitting room. Not quite half past eleven and some of the staff were already gathering in the servants hall to toast in the new year with two bottles of champagne provided by the Crawleys. She wearily looked down at her desk. Opening the top side drawer she fingered the small box that contained her gift from the Crawley family. Lifting the lid of the box she looked at the silver brooch designed as a bouquet of blue flowers with graceful stems of green leaves. Not that she could wear it with her dour black housekeeper uniform but it was quite pretty and she thought it would look lovely pinned to her coat. Another year has passed by and what …

"Surely you're not working on New Year's Eve?" The chauffeur's soft Irish lilt interrupted her thoughts. He craned his neck to see what she was looking at. Seeing the brooch he asked "a Christmas gift?"

She quickly put the lid back on the box and closed the desk drawer. "My gift from the Crawleys."

"It's beautiful" he said. "I got a lovely silver fountain pen and a notebook."

"Something I'm sure you'll find quite useful." Then noting the soft gray cardigan he was wearing she said "I take it that lovely cardigan is this year's Christmas gift from your mother?"

"It is" he proudly proclaimed as he ran his hands down the row of buttons. "I think she did a wonderful job. The only other cardigan I have is looking rather ratty so this is a perfect gift, although outside of the garage or my cottage I don't have much chance to wear it. But since I'm off duty I thought it would be perfect to wear it to toast the New Year."

"I don't recall you being this" she shrugged her shoulders as if trying to find the right word "happy … excited for our New Year tipple."

"Are you kidding it's the only time I've had champagne" he laughed. He ran his hand through his hair then turning serious he said. "I know it hasn't been the best of years and next year may not be any better although we can hope the war will finally end but it has been the best Christmas since I've been here. It's meant a lot to me having Evie here and her sister Maud was able to come from Manchester to join us, to be able to go to mass on Christmas Eve in Ripon, to spend Christmas day with the three of us eating dinner in my cottage where we laughed and joked about Christmases past." He looked earnestly at her. "It made me miss my family a little less and yet in some ways a little more if that makes any sense."

She nodded her head. "I have a fair understanding of what you're saying. Even though I've been away from home for so many years now I can remember those first few years and how it didn't quite seem right, didn't quite seem like Christmas. Now my parents are long in the grave but sometimes when I see that tree upstairs" she looked at him and smiled "mind you not that we ever had such a grand tree but I think of those scrawny trees that seemed to fill half our front room and for just a moment I can see their smiling faces and hear their laughter as my sister and I decorated it with paper chains that had taken us hours to make."

"I'm glad for you lad that you had-" the rest of her sentence was drowned out by laughter coming from the servants hall.

He glanced down the hallway then looked back at her. "I'll be toasting that this be the year this war finally ends so we better get down there before the champagne is gone!"

Tom had just finishing washing the spring mud off the Renault when he heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel courtyard of the garage. Expecting to see Sybil he tried to hide his surprise when he turned around and saw Edith.

Smiling he nodded at her. "Haven't seen you out here in a long time."

She returned his smile as she sidestepped the puddles on the gravel to get closer to the Renault. "Don't worry I'm not asking to drive one of the motor cars although" she touched the shiny metal of the car's bonnet "it has been quite some time since I drove this."

She tilted her face to look at him. "Actually I've come to ask for your help."

"My help?" Tom was a bit perplexed and surprised it was an ask instead of an order.

"Now that the weather is nice some of the patients seem to enjoy the horseshoe pit you put up on the side lawn. It's nice to see them get out and enjoy the fresh air rather than sitting inside playing cards. Watching them reminded me how much the patients enjoyed the fete we had last fall and I thought it would be nice to have one again. Of course we don't have any of the same patients but I think they'll enjoy it."

"So you want my help setting up the games like last time?" he guessed.

"Of course Branson. You did a fine job. I'll have to see if any of the families will be coming and if so if there's any children and their ages so we can determine what games to offer for them." Looking quite pleased with herself, Edith clapped her hands. "That's settled. I'll get back to you with a firm date."

So on a sunny Saturday in late May, Tom found himself watching a lively game of quoits. "You did a fine job setting this up." Tom turned to see Mrs. Hughes was standing beside him. "Makes me think back to that summer you set up that bowling game in the servants courtyard."

Tom laughed. "Ah that was fun wasn't it. Too bad we haven't done something like that since then. Of course family hasn't been to London for the season since then."

"Maybe …" Mrs. Hughes looked as if she were entertaining the idea. "I think … we'll see lad. How about we get something to eat before it's all gone."

The pair walked over to the large table that had been set up at the edge of the gravel drive. Looking over the array of finger sandwiches as well as puddings and biscuits Tom's eyes lit up. "Is that salmon mousse?" Without waiting for a reply he took one of the savory biscuits topped with mousse.

His enthusiasm caused Mrs. Hughes to chuckle. "As I recall you do like salmon mousse."

"I admit I'm always hoping there's leftovers when it's served to the family. What if we fill our plates and go sit over there" Tom pointed to a couple of empty chairs.

As they began filling their plates Evie came up with another tray loaded with more sandwiches as well as sweet and savory biscuits. "Good to see you enjoying the food Tommy." Then she greeted Mrs. Hughes. "I have some of that tea bread you enjoyed Mrs. Hughes. Fresh out of the oven."

"We're going over there Evie why don't you come sit with us" Tom said.

As Tom and Mrs. Hughes sat down and began enjoying their food Mrs. Hughes looked over to Evie who was still arranging the items from her tray on to the table. "Evie always seems like a very sunny sort."

"Aye. She's the age of my youngest sister and always seemed to be over at our house so I think of her as another little sister. It's been great to have her here although even with her staying in my cottage I don't really see her that much. On nights I have to drive old lady Grantham home Evie's usually upstairs in her room but then on those other nights when I don't have to chauffeur anyone we sit around and talk. This winter it was great coming back to a warm house since she'd have the stove or the fireplace going. Certainly better than all these years I've gone back to a dark and cold house."

"Funny thing Mrs. Hughes is that when I first came here I relished having a whole house to myself. I mean after always sharing a bedroom, heck and sometimes a bed, with one or more of my brothers I thought I was in heaven but I won't lie after a while it did get lonely. I was glad to be able to eat my meals in the servants hall even if that meant sitting with Thomas and O'brien."

"The sacrifices one makes" she laughed.

"Aye" He smiled at her. "But then there was Gwen and Bates and Anna so" he shrugged his shoulders.

Mrs. Hughes stood in the courtyard. Her dark somber dress, a contrast to the bright pinks and apricots of the fully blooming rose bushes nestled alongside the brick wall which defined the entrance to the courtyard, rustled softly in the light breeze. The late afternoon sky was a vivid blue and the air was warm and scented with the sweet smell of the roses. It was a day for picnics or walks along a lake or just sitting and basking in the summer sunshine. But Mrs. Hughes wasn't thinking or feeling any of that.

Tom was surprised to see her when he walked through the brick archway and in to the courtyard. He started to say something cheeky as he so often did but remained silent after noticing the way she stood with her shoulders drooping and her right hand grasping and ungrasping what he thought might be a handkerchief.

He wasn't sure if she realized he was here so he quietly said "Mrs. Hughes." In response she slightly turned her head and he was surprised to see the sadness clearly etched on her face. "Has … has William …?" He couldn't quite bring himself to say the word died.

She shook her head. "Not yet but it seems as if it's only a matter of hours now … the poor lad and his heartsick father." She sighed heavily. "But it's not just that for there's nothing to be done about it but to keep him as comfortable as possible it's the … cruelty" she raised her brow as not sure that was the right word "of a man-" she abruptly stopped as she realized she had no right to talk to him of Major Bryant. Although now facing the roses it wasn't them but instead she saw the smug face of Major Bryant as he declined to take the letter from Ethel.

"Might this have something to do with Major Bryant" he ventured causing her to peer closely at him.

"What … how" she mumbled.

"I drove him from the railway station to the house this afternoon" he quickly responded. "Quite surprised he was coming back here for a visit."

"To see his old companions I hear."

Tom nodded. He was quiet for a minute or two as if thinking about something. "I can guess why Ethel left so abruptly."

"We shouldn't be having that conversation Mr. Branson." The sharpness of her voice surprised him.

"You're right, I'm sorry" he said. "I am truly sorry about William, he's a good lad and he should have had far more years in this world."

From Mrs. Hughes sitting room they could hear the murmurs of laughter still coming from the servants' hall. "We've wanted this for so long it's still hard to imagine it's finally happening" she said. "You don't think there will be any last minute snags do you."

"Of course not" Carson responded. "As his lordship said the truce is set for the morning of the 11th." He took a deep breath. "It will be good to get back to what was before the war."

"But will we" replied Mrs. Hughes.

Carson looked at her in disbelief. "Whatever do you mean Mrs. Hughes? Of course things will go back to how they were."

"Things have changed Mr. Carson, the world's changed. I'm not sure it will be so easy to back. I'm not sure everyone will want it to go back to how it was before the war."

"Now you're talking nonsense" he responded. "You'll see."