
This is Henry's friend and fellow race car driver, with whom he trains, Charlie. I've been ignoring Charlie -- this show has SO MANY tertiary characters that I sometimes I zone out on them until they become useful for the plot. Poor Charlie, I regret to tell you, is about to become useful for the plot.

Lord G's convalescence is going well -- as you can see, he's back in his suit and down at the Breakfast Table Reset, where we learn that Henry Talbot has invited all and sundry, including Bertie Pelham, to watch him race at Brooklands, and if you have time today, you should TOTALLY fall into the Brooklands Wiki Hole. Mary is squirrelly about this entire thing but everyone else is very excited about it, especially Tom.

This morning, Edith has decided to go for more of TASSEL than a tie around her neck. If you pull it, does a tiny servant pop out to brush her teeth?

As we learned last week, Mrs Patmore's bed and breakfast is now open, and has its first guests. I'm just going to zip through this plot, as it's not really going full-bore yet: She's popping over every morning to make sure the breakfast part is served correctly, and a weird dude is hiding in the bushes and photographs her. I don't even know, you guys. We don't have time for Mrs Patmore to have a stalker! I've decided it's a very sneaky B&B reviewer.
Additionally, Daisy gets the date set for her test. "OH MY GOD," she wails, and Mrs Hughes tells her not to take the name of the Lord in vain. "I hope it's not in vain!" Daisy says. "I need all the help I can get!"

Isobel has been invited to the wedding of Terrible Larry and his Fiancee, Miss Crookshanks (that's not how her name is spelled, but I don't care; I cannot resist a Crookshanks in a plot with Prof. McGonagall.) Anyway, Violet tells Isobel that she's going to go over to Lord Merton's house and figure out, once and for all, what the heck is happening with them. Oh, PS: She's also going to take a month in the south of France until she doesn't feel like she wants to throttle Cora over the question of the hospital anymore. All I know is, if Julian Fellowes intends to kill off Violet off camera...I SHALL RAGE. NO SPOILERS!

There is continued excited discussion about this field trip to the track, although Cora continues to be concerned about Lord G's continued recuperation. Someone comments that it's a long way for Bertie Pelham to come, and Edith says she's sure there's something he can do in London while he's there. "Isn't it enough that he's coming to see you?" Mary asks, rather nicely, actually, and Edith snaps, "WOULD IT ANNOY YOU IF IT WERE?" and Mary's face totally falls. I honestly think Mary was actually trying to be nice there -- but, of course, years of bickering are hard to leave behind. You girls have two more episodes to pull it off!

And this Thomas thing drags on. I know I said last week that Thomas was sacked, and he still kind of is, except it's more accurately as if he's...pre-sacked? Carson keeps telling him to get a new job but is I guess still paying him? (Thomas LITERALLY says, "does that mean I'm sacked?" and Carson says, "it means I shall be pleased to hear the name of your next employers," WHICH IS NOT REALLY AN ANSWER.) At any rate, poor EvilButler.com is very sad and mopes that Downton is the only place he's ever put down roots. Mrs Hughes very kindly tells him that she thinks he might actually be HAPPIER somewhere else, and that it's possible that he'll find "the right person" and "friends" in a new house. I truly do feel for Thomas, you guys, but I also suspect that HE has forgotten that he has DONE SOME STUFF to people at Downton and ergo perhaps would do better somewhere with a clean slate.

This was...the best. Just the best scene. Violet goes to Lord Merton's GLORIOUS house and, in the course of cross-examining Crookshanks -- who somehow seems to think she can outsmart Violet, which is LAUGHABLE -- discovers that ACTUALLY what Awful Larry and Crookshanks really want is for Isobel to get Larry out of their hair so they don't need to look after him or entertain him in his old age. So, she is as TERRIBLE as Larry is, basically, and Violet verbally destroys her. Among her bon mots: telling Crookshanks that Larry's cruelty was duel-worthy; the phrase "I expect they'll have to drag you out [of this house] as you break your fingernails catching at the doorcase," in reference to Crookshanks's mistaken belief that Isobel won't want to live in Lord Merton's totally amazing house; and, "You want a free nurse to take a tiresome old man off your hands. You're a cool little miss, aren't you? I'd feel sorry for Larry if I didn't dislike him so much," all of which are delivered with icy perfection. Crookshanks tries to cool the agony of Violet's sick burns by asking her to leave, so that no one says anything that will make future meetings awkward, and Violet announces that there will be no future meetings: "Not if I see you first." You idiot, Crookshanks. A mere transfigured cat cannot destroy one of Hogwarts' greatest witches.

Cora and Robert have yet another conversation about whether or not Henry will make Mary happy. Robert mentions that HE thinks Matthew Goode has more "sex appeal" than Tony Gillingham, and then expresses delight in their upcoming outing to the race track, and Cora rolls her eyes so hard that she surely injured something. Oh, Cora. JUST BE HAPPY HE'S ALIVE.

I want someone to start a blog called Lady Mary's Dressing Gowns, which is just photos thereof. Here, she literally asks Anna if Anna approves of Mary dating Henry Talbot, and Anna says that she doesn't know if their lives will fit together? She seems to feel guilty that she couldn't give an unmitigated thumbs up, but Mary feels what Anna's putting down.

In which Violet notes that she's told Tom how to reach her while she's abroad as he is "the most sensible" -- I love how much Violet loves Branson -- and also tells Isobel what went down with Crookshanks, namely, that she is The Worst. "Now you must decide whether not to abandon [Dickie Merton] to his unkind and selfish son," Violet announces, and Isobel is kind of like, "I don't even want to deal with any of this."

One of these days, Edith's Editrix is going to set her paperwork on fire, smoking and reading like this. Herein, she and Edith agree to hire a Miss Cassandra Jones to write an advice column -- I hope Cassandra Jones proves to secretly be Branson -- and Edith and her HIDEOUS VEST, which I somehow didn't photo, invite said editrix to pop over for racing. So she can meet Tom and they can fall in love. NO SPOILERS, but I assume so?

Dinner discussion at Rosamund's is about how all the grand London houses are being sold, or turned into offices -- Lord G is particularly sad that he doesn't have anywhere to pop in for a grand but unannounced lunch anymore -- and then who pops in for a surprise visit? SPEAKING OF POPPING IN.

Just take in Matthew Goode's face in this flattering lighting...

...Lady Mary certainly is. They have their usual push-me/pull-you conversation about whether he's good enough for her, and my feeling is...EVERYONE has pointed out that Henry Talbot is "a gentleman," and they are allegedly hot for each other. Isn't that enough, at this late date, anyway?

Tom and the Editrix, Laura, are totally going to fall in love. Between her, and his bromance with Henry, everything is FINALLY COMING UP TOM! Thank god he quit working for the Celtics and came back to England. (They also have a very cute exchange later wherein he tells her he was once the chauffeur. This is a predictable turn of events, but she is smart and seems nice, so FINE BY ME.)

I could not resist cute Matthew Goode in his little jumpsuit. There is something endearing about it. You should also know that Lord G is DELIGHTED to meet Laura and continues to be thrilled by the idea of women with jobs, because Robert, although financially irresponsible and bad with rare books, is the best.

Behold Lady Mary, trying out the old chestnut, "everyone's hotter in sunglasses." And there's Charlie, and his jaunty scarf, and if you feel attached to him in any way...just prepare yourself.

Now that she's faced with the idea of seeing someone she loves (or at the very least wants to bang) drive around really fast, Mary is NERVOUS. She keeps talking about her digestive system and how screwed up it is, which feels VERY out of character.

You know a man loves you when he kisses you even after you've just said the words, "my digestive system is backed up completely." Additionally: this scene is the first time I really, like, FELT IT for them -- Dockery gives a very good little melt after the kiss.

I hope Mrs Matthew Goode made him steal those and wear them about the house. They're so adorably goofy.

It will not surprise you to know that this car race is BEAUTIFULLY shot and choreographed. This show does a lot of things well, and one of them is Filming Races of Various Modes of Transport.

The prospect of having a racecar driving son-in-law is clearly getting more and more delightful for Lord G, who is having the best time, as are Bertie and Tom. Mary still wants to vomit. (She literally says she feels as if they're "trapped inside some witch's curse for all eternity." I feel like, let's not force her to go to another one of these, please? SHE FEELS TRAPPED IN A CURSE.)

It's lunch break at the Day of Exams for Daisy and Molesley, during which EVERYONE learns that Andy cannot read. Thomas tries to rescue him and is very nice about the whole thing, and, actually, EVERYONE is very nice about it, but Andy announces that he is a fool who knows, and IS nothing. Of course, this all ends with the Schoolmaster -- whose name I've never caught, but I'm just going to call him Nigel -- offers to properly teach him how to read. Thomas obviously feels usurped, because, if everything is coming up Branson, NOTHING is coming up Thomas.

Hee. Mrs Hughes talking Mr Carson into taking the dramatic step of sitting on the sofa of the Crawleys in their absence was very cute. You can imagine his gruff reaction when Thomas walks in and finds them sort of cozy on the sofa. He's never going to forgive himself.

Back at the track, after a lot of intense -- but standard -- jockeying for lead position between Charlie and Henry, THIS HAPPENS. It's poor Charlie, and Henry Talbot goes crazy, trying to drag his friend's body out of the wreckage. It's REALLY UPSETTING -- although, of course, not quite as harrowing as Robert vomiting blood all over dinner, from which I am still not emotionally recovered. Everyone back at the grandstands comes running to the site of the crash, and Mary is, obviously, frantic at the thought that her Murderous Vagina could have claimed another man WITHOUT EVEN GETTING TO ENJOY HIM FIRST. (It's also noteworthy that Mary and Edith kind of clutch at each other here; perhaps sisterly progress is being made.)

And the back half of this episode is easily the best acting Matthew Goode has done on this show so far. He's EXCELLENT in his teary, devastated, guilty angst, and I'm not just saying that because Handsome Sad Man With a British Accent is my JAM. He is really, REALLY good, and the connection between him and the helpless-feeling, sad, relieved, guilty-for-feeling-relieved Lady Mary feels totally legit.

I DID want her to just hug him and get his sexy, sad, dirt all over her dress, though.

Enjoy this hero shot of Highclere. We shall miss it.

Guess what? Molesley NAILED his exam, and Nigel has asked him to become a schoolteacher. He accepts, and cries, and I also cried. It was terrifically touching and lovely. THREE CHEERS FOR MOLESLEY. Daisy tells him he deserves it, and Molesley says, "I never think I deserve anything. Perhaps I was wrong all along." YOU WERE! Now, go find Baxter and KISS HER, you fool! You know, once all her continuing angst with the jewel thief to whom she was once sexually in thrall is concluded.
This scene was also nicely bookended with a conversation where Mrs Patmore reassures Daisy that she can always count on the love of both Mr Mason and herself, regardless of what happens in the future. I hope Daisy takes that to heart, and stops acting like such a total dingbat about the two of them.

And, voila, the conclusion of the Hughes/Carson Housekeeping and Cooking Debate of '25. With brainstorming assistance from Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes fakes a hand injury to force Carson make their entire dinner, which is so taxing for him that he falls asleep in the middle of the crumble. It's really very amusing, and, hopefully, LESSON LEARNED.

Back in London, post fiery crash, everyone is on edge at dinner -- Robert yells rather meanly at Rosamund, but understandably so -- and no one is eating. They're all quite shaken. As you would be.

And no one more than Henry Talbot -- he has, fairly, been drinking -- who calls and tells Mary that Charlie's death has made him realize that they don't have "a minute to waste." And then he and Mary have a very wrenching conversation wherein she basically breaks up with him because they're just not right for each other. He whispers that he can't give her up, and she cries that he MUST and then manages to hang up before she really starts crying, and it's all very emotional and angsty and satisfying. Henry honestly is having THE WORST DAY EVER.

I could not resist this show with the phone-side Sphinx. Mary is clearly torn up about having broken it off with Henry when Tom comes in. When she basically cries that she can't handle this, he gives her a firm but kind talking to, in which he tells her, "you're frightened of being hurt again. but let me tell you this. You will be hurt again, and so will I. Because being hurt is part of being alive. But that's no reason to give up on the man who's right for you." At that, Mary just stumbles upstairs in a fog. That was also a very good scene, and I couldn't help but think again about how emotionally tough this have had to been for Michelle Dockery, knowing her fiance was dying as they filmed this. As one of you posted in the comments last week, it was probably also very emotional for Allen Leech, because he introduced them. I can't imagine how hard it was for them to do that scene.

As a little picker-upper, I thought you might want to see Bates, all snug as a bug in a rug in the twin bed in the servant's quarters at Rosamund's. Something about those PJs and his quilt are endearing. Anna tells him what happened with Henry and Mary and his take is that this seems like a rash choice made in grief-haste, and I must agree. It's nice to get to agree with Bates again, instead of yelling at him about a variety of legal foibles.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Bertie PROPOSES! (A tragedy DOES often bring lovers closer together.) And Edith asks him to give her time to think, which....?!? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT, EDITH? He's lovely, you love each other, HANG ON TO THIS ONE. (She does not tell him Marigold is her own child, but he's fine with her bringing Marigold to their home, as much as he hopes they have their own children "before close of play," and Edith agrees, so...why the thinking? WHY? UNBURDEN YOURSELF AND THEN WED.)

Everyone's in crotchet! When the family gets home from London, Isobel gives them the Dear John note from Violet -- remember how she's off to France? Potentially to die? BUT HOPEFULLY NOT -- and they're told they have a farewell gift from her downstairs, as well....

I could not resist this screengrab.

The gift is A PUPPY, which delights everyone, including me. (This dog LOVES Hugh Bonneville.) I suppose it IS wise to attempt to defeat the depressive effect of fiery death with adorable puppies, when it comes to the balance of the universe?
