Sitting on the floor, Emma played with her wooden figures. Every now and then, the hall boys and housemaids complained that she sat in the way, but that didn't stop the young girl from continuing to play. It was Anna who immediately recognized the soldier, "Emma, look who's here," she spoke gently. Emma looked up, her eyes scanning the room. Two housemaids sat at the table, doing their needlework. Beside them sat Anna, and behind her stood Daisy. On the other side stood Mrs. O'Brien and a man in a soldier's uniform, who revealed a warm and heartfelt smile.

Emma stared at him with her mouth half open, before a huge grin formed on the face of the 5-year-old. "Daddy!" she exclaimed excitedly. She immediately jumped up from the floor and ran straight into the waiting arms of her father, who crouched down to her level. "There's my little dwarf," he smiled and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Emma's tender arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed her face firmly against his chest, "Daddy, I missed you so much," the little girl confessed.

"I missed you too!" he replied, planting a kiss on her cheek. It had been two and a half years since he last held his daughter in his arms. Three birthdays he had missed. And if it hadn't been for Mrs. Hughes, his daughter might not even recognize him anymore. But the housekeeper made sure to show Emma a picture of Thomas and read his letters to her before bedtime.

"I missed you more," Emma stubbornly declared, "And I love you very much, Daddy!"

Thomas felt like bursting into tears, but certainly not in front of all his former colleagues. But that one phrase, "I love you," he hadn't heard it in what felt like an eternity. And suddenly, that very phrase was said to him, and he couldn't bring himself to return his child's affection. Instead, he pressed another kiss on Emma's cheek before resting their foreheads together. At least the others couldn't see his overwhelming emotions. Emma's small hands touched his cheeks. Perhaps the child was just as overwhelmed as he was. Emma pressed her head against his chest once again. Despite not seeing each other for so long, she instantly felt safe in his arms.

"You've grown up," Thomas remarked gently, "How old are you now? Three? Four?"

"No, Daddy," she giggled, "I'm five years old!" and she showed him all five fingers.

"Five?!" Thomas marveled, "Then you're a big girl!"

"Yes! I'll be going to school next year!" she explained proudly. As neither Thomas nor Emma wanted to break free from their new familiar embrace, he lifted the child in his arms and positioned her comfortably at his hip. After all, he had to show what a great father he was. Lady Grantham had made some connections for him so he wouldn't have to return to the front. One of those connections was that he was a single father who hadn't seen his child in a long time, which made a position - especially due to his injury - at the Downton hospital more fitting.

"What's wrong, my little dwarf? Why are you so sad all of a sudden?"

"I don't want you to leave," she sniffled, burying her face deeper into Thomas's shoulder, "Please Daddy don't ever leave me again!"

"That's good because I'm staying in Downton."

"Really, you're staying?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm staying," he confirmed with a nod, though his child wasn't convinced by his words. With his finger, he gently booped her nose, "You can believe me. I won't leave you again!" Thomas was satisfied with her more or less approving nod and shifted his gaze to the circle of housemaids and kitchen maids.


"Where is William?"

"He's in training for the army," Daisy explained.

"I thought he died out of love for you," Thomas chuckled.

"That's mean. You've just returned," Daisy shook her head in disbelief. Emma remained quiet in the newfound familiar position in her father's arms. She didn't move much or speak. She simply listened to him. The voice she hadn't heard in two and a half years, and yet it sounded so familiar. And then there was the strange but familiar smoky scent.

"Imagine Carson without his footman, like a circus director without his little horse," he grinned mischievously.

"We don't need your cheekiness here. Thank you very much, Thomas," Mrs. Hughes suddenly appeared behind them. Emma gave the housekeeper a big smile as she wrapped her arm around her father's neck, who didn't look in the housekeeper's direction once.

"I apologize, Mrs. Hughes, but I am no longer a servant. I receive my orders from Major Clarkson."

The older lady let out a soft groan. Emma didn't understand what was so bad about the sentence her father told. A circus without a horse would only be half as spectacular.


"Who is that?" Thomas asked, nodding his head in the direction of a new housemaid who giggled.

"Ethel, the new maid," O'Brien explained.

"When I saw you out there, I didn't know you were a former footman," Ethel remarked.

"I'm one who made it out," Thomas replied.

"That gives us all hope."

"Ethel, you'll assist with the luggage. Sir Richard will be arriving soon," Carson's voice rang out.

"We have a visitor, Mr. Carson," O'Brien pointed out.

"I've seen him. It's about time you picked up your child. Did you think we're an orphanage?" Carson retorted, marching off.


"Where is Mr. Bates?"

"Gone. Replaced by Mr. Lang."

"Well, not all the changes were disadvantageous," Thomas said, glancing over at the housemaid, Anna.

At that moment, Mrs. Patmore appeared, placing a plate of pancakes on the table. Ethel reached out her hand and promptly received a slap, "Hands off! The pancake is for Emma," the cook explained. Not only did Emma politely request a pancake, but she was also still quite small for her age, which made Mrs. Patmore keen on ensuring the child was properly nourished, including pancakes with jam filling. Emma grinned mischievously and stuck her tongue out at Ethel.

"Don't you have a job to do?" O'Brien snapped. Ethel rolled her eyes, complaining that she was a housemaid, not a footman, and she didn't see why she should perform the duties of a male servant as she left the room.

Thomas seated Emma on one of the nearby chairs. The pancake had already been divided in half—for easier eating, of course—and Emma gleefully reached for the half where the jam was already oozing out. In seconds, the child had smeared her hands, sleeves, and mouth with the red jelly.

"Would you like a pancake too?" Emma asked politely. "It's too much anyway." It was a fact that Thomas had already learned from the letters. His child ate far too little, and on some days, even the old Patmore would chase after her with a piece of bread just to ensure she had eaten a slice by the end of the day. Mrs. Hughes had already been to the doctor. "There's no cause for concern," Clarkson had said at the time. Some children were simply fussy and slow eaters, but as long as the child didn't show signs of malnutrition, it wasn't a major issue.

"We'll share the second one," Thomas said, carefully tearing the pancake in the middle.

"Why are you wearing a glove?" the girl asked, puzzled.

"I have an injured hand."

"Oh." At that time, Emma didn't question why her father had a injured hand. In fact, she will never ask him about it, as Thomas will one day tell her the story, but by then, Emma will be much older.


In the evening, Emma stood beside Anna as Carson collapsed while serving dinner. Mrs. Hughes assigned roles to the girls for the dinner.

"I can help, Mrs. Hughes," Emma offered. A child who had grown up in service for 5 years was quite familiar with the procedures of the most important events.

Mrs. Hughes was about to respond that it wasn't a good idea, but the child already picked up the vegetable platter from the main course. "I'll stay right behind you. I just need to hold my plate. Mr. Carson taught me everything I need to know."

"I don't want any more incidents!" the housekeeper declared.

Ethel cleared away the appetizer. Mrs. Hughes carried the roast, with Emma close behind, holding the vegetable platter, while Anna poured the wine.

"Oh dear," the Dowager commented, "Are we really at the point where we have to employ children?"

"Emma insisted on helping Mr. Lang. As you surely know, we are very short-staffed at the moment," Mrs. Hughes explained. Emma held out the vegetable platter to her. The Dowager took a serving of peas and carrots before the child moved on to Lord Grantham.

"You must be glad to have your father back at Downton, I assume?"

"Yes, milord. I missed my father very much."

Lord Grantham gave her a brief smile. Unlike Mr. Lang, she held the platter with steady hands and even knew the order and rules of the dinner, as she patiently followed behind Mrs. Hughes when she lingered with Sir Richard. It was only when Mrs. Hughes moved on that she held out the vegetable platter to him. Sir Richard looked at her with disdainful eyes.

"This is utterly unacceptable," he whispered. "A 4-year-old bastard baby cannot serve the high society."

"Sir," she spoke in her most adorable voice, "I am 5 years old and certainly not a baby anymore. Look, I even lost my first baby tooth!"

Lady Grantham smiled affectionately at her and even pinched her cheek. "I find it very charming of you to stand in for Mr. Lang. You're doing a marvelous job."

Do you wonder how Thomas feels about his daughter serving the dinner? I suppose we'll find out in the next chapter.