Previously on Downton Abbey: The war mercifully came to an end, as did Vera’s life, bringing joy to the lives of A/B shippers everywhere. Thomas started looking into black market business options, and Matthew began feeling something below the belt.
It’s now 1919. Edith watches from the front door as the last of the medical equipment is loaded up and driven away, leaving Downton a private home once again. She seems saddened by that, but Isis is practically prancing as she accompanies Robert into the drawing room, from which the hospital beds have all disappeared. Cora’s arranging some furniture there, and Robert tells her he’s heading down to the village in an effort to avoid Carlisle, who’ll be arriving a bit later. She asks if there’s any more news on “the Bates situation” and Robert says there isn’t. She asks if her husband intends to keep him on. Why wouldn’t he? Does being widowed somehow make one unfit for service? Robert reminds her that Bates’s wife has just committed suicide, and he’s not going to fire him for that. What’s Cora’s problem with Bates? Hasn’t he proven himself to her?
Cora changes the subject to Matthew, suggesting he be sent home. Robert immediately takes offense at that, thinking she wants to kick him out. Wow, touchy, Robert. I don’t think that’s what she meant at all, it’s just that there’s no need for him to stay in a convalescent home that’s no longer a convalescent home (especially if he’s pretty much past the convalescent stage), and that it’s time for him to start getting back to some semblance of a normal life. She also wants him out from underfoot so he’s not so much of a distraction for Mary. Robert’s determined to pick a fight and demands to know if there’s something she’s not telling him about Mary and Matthew. She tells him there’s nothing, recoiling in surprise, and Robert stomps out.
He passes Carson, who’s taking tea into the drawing room. Carson comments that the end of the war might finally mean the return of some footmen and Lavinia wonders if they’ll really want to return to service after all they’ve done.
Out in the drive, Robert stops to help Jane, who’s scrambling to collect some apples she’s dropped. He asks after her son and tells her he wrote to the headmaster at Ripon Grammar to put in a good word. She thanks him sincerely, and then suddenly he comments that she must miss her husband very much. She’s taken aback, but she says she at least has her son, while others lost much more. This prompts Robert to start reciting all the war dead from his estate, which, of course, includes poor William. Aww, you guys, I miss William. Robert asks if she wonders what it was all for. It was all for almost nothing, Robert, which is the massive tragedy of the war. Although it did help push forward certain movements, like women’s rights. Now thoroughly depressed, Jane excuses herself, leaving Robert to greet Carlisle, who’s just arriving.
The servants are enjoying their tea, and I notice their number includes a couple of lineless maids I’ve never seen before. Patmore comes in long enough to mention how dear supplies are, even now after the war’s ended. Thomas is there as well, dressed in civvies. Daisy asks him how much longer he’ll be staying. He’s not sure, because there’s not much use for him at Downton now the soldiers are all gone. Daisy asks him where he’ll go, and like the total dick he is, he just asks her why she cares. Man, why does anyone care about this guy? What’s his problem? He gets up and heads out, and O’Brien follows, repeating Daisy’s question. He tells her he’s got a plan: he’s going into the Black Market business. He’s got a dealer and he’s got the supplies in a shed in town. He figures he’ll clear enough money doing this for a little while to set himself up in a real business someday. Meanwhile, he hopes to kick around Downton for a couple of weeks. O’Brien drily tells him not to count on a welcome mat. I think even she’s tired of dealing with him.
As he dresses for dinner, Robert asks if there’s any more news of Vera and why she might have done what she did. Bates says there isn’t, that it must have been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Robert muses that it couldn’t have been, because she must have had to go out and buy the poison. He immediately apologizes for having said so, but what he said clearly strikes a chord with Bates.
As Anna’s heading to Mary’s room, Carlisle intercepts her and asks her for a word. She reluctantly follows him into his room. After talking around the point for a bit, Carlisle asks her to, basically, spy on Mary and report back to him on her movements and who she sees and what she does. In return, he’ll pay her. OK, ick. I believe him when he says, earlier in this scene, that he wants to make Mary happy, but he’s clearly going about it the wrong way. Anna turns him down, claiming not to have the time. As she goes to leave, Carlisle asks her not to mention this to Mary.
Downstairs, Robert’s joking about how he almost came down in a dinner jacket, but since his mother was there, he dressed up. Her voice dripping judgment, Isobel says she likes the new fashions because they’re looser and less troublesome. The old fashions were just fine, according to her, if all you did was spend your days on a chaise lounge. Man, when did she become such a condescending bitch? What happened to the woman trying to be so tactful and proper last season? I know war changes people and situations, but it’s like she’s become completely tone-deaf and constantly rude to her own relatives. Violet, of course, has no intention of adapting to the new fashions. Sybil asks if she really wants things to go back to the way they were before the war, and of course she does. Why wouldn’t she? Her pre-war life was pretty awesome. Mary changes the conversation a bit to comment on the new bob haircuts women in Paris are sporting. She might even get one herself. I think she’d actually look cute with a bob. As Carson hands out drinks, Cora asks him to tell Hughes that Major Douchebag’s parents are coming for a brief lunchtime visit in a few days.
After dinner, Sybil takes a trip down to the garage to chat with Branson. She tells him she feels useless now the war’s over and how she wants to do more with her life. He asks if she’s made up her mind to run off with him and she says she hasn’t, but she’s close.
Carson and Hughes are having an evening chat over tea. Hughes asks how things are going over at Haxby and Carson says they’re coming along quite well, though he doesn’t approve of the elaborate bathrooms. Seriously, what is everyone’s hangup about bathrooms? He thinks they all look like something out of a Theda Bara film. Hughes wonders if he’ll be happy there, and Carson admits that he’ll regret leaving Downton, but he’s so blindly devoted to Mary that he has to go and help her. Hughes can’t understand his attachment to Mary, whom she views as “an uppity minx who’s the author of her own misfortunes.” Amen, Hughes! Carson sighs that she didn’t know Mary when she was cute and little. Ok, so she was a cute kid, so what? That doesn’t save someone from being a reprehensible adult. She’s made some strides towards maturity this season, but I still think she has a long way to go before she becomes truly likeable. Their evening is interrupted by the arrival of Anna, who’s there to tell them about Carlisle’s proposition.
Bates helps Matthew into his narrow little bed. Matthew asks Bates what a tingling in his legs might mean. Bates asks if he’s mentioned this to Clarkson and Matthew says he has, but Clarkson thinks it’s just an illusion. Uh, ok. He didn’t check? Like, maybe see if you had any reflexes or feeling in your legs? Bates advises him to wait and see, because if something’s going on, it’ll show itself at some point.
Hughes catches the bus in the village and goes to visit Ethel. She tells her about Douchebag’s parents’ upcoming visit and they hatch a plan. Ethel will stash herself in one of the outbuildings while Hughes tries to get Mrs. Douchebag aside and tell her about the baby. And they’ll see where they can go from there.
Edith and Sybil wander through the library and discuss how odd it is to have the house so empty. Edith figures they’ll get used to it, but Sybil doesn’t want to get used to it. She’s gotten a taste for good hard work and she doesn’t want to just go back to dress fittings and parties. Edith doesn’t see how one can escape all that, but Sybil’s found a way—a drastic way. Edith, who’s probably the most sympathetic ear Sybil could have found in this house, admits she doesn’t want to give up the freedoms she felt during the war either. Sybil tells Edith she’s much nicer than she was before the war. Aww.
Down in the village, Thomas shows O’Brien his storehouse, which is packed to the rafters with sugar, flour, and other non-perishables he hopes to sell to Mrs. Patmore.
Carson’s meeting with Mary to tell her he won’t be going with her to Haxby after all. Mary demands to know why he’s changed his mind and he tells her about Carlisle’s indecent proposal to Anna. Mary gets pissed that Anna didn’t come to her first and takes her frustration out on Carson a bit, because she obviously can’t take it out on Carlisle. Speak of the devil, in he comes, fresh from a walk. She dismisses Carson and tells Carlisle he won’t be taking the job after all. Carlisle asks Carson if there’s anything he can say to change his mind. Carson says no and leaves, just slowly enough to hear Mary dismissively say that butlers will be thick on the ground now the war’s over.
Robert comes across Jane in the silver pantry and tells her he heard Carson wanted to see him. Jane offers to fetch Carson and Robert tells her not to hurry, it’s nothing urgent. She mentions he made her sad the other day, wondering what the war was fought for. Robert tells her not to pay him any mind, because he’s just a foolish man who’s lost his way. Then he lays a hell of a kiss on her. Wow! Didn’t think Robert was the type. He immediately apologizes and hurries away.
Jane races downstairs and finds Carson, telling him Robert’s upstairs dressing. Carson asks what’s wrong with her, but she tells him it’s nothing before running off again.
Carson heads upstairs and recants his resignation, telling Robert exactly why. Robert’s happy to hear he’s staying.
Meanwhile, Mary’s bitching at Anna for not speaking to her about the matter first. See, Carson? She’s not so charming now, is she?
Lavinia wheels Matthew into the library and notices the tea-tray hasn’t been taken out. She parks Matthew next to the fireplace and goes to take it out herself, but she trips over a footstool and nearly does a header into the mantel. Matthew, alarmed, leaps to his feet and…hey, wait a minute—Matthew just leapt to his feet! Despite the fact that he’s been in a wheelchair for a year now and his muscles have probably severely atrophied. It’s a miracle! Lord, when did this show become As the Abbey Turns? General Downton Hospital? Is Mary going to turn out to be her own evil twin next?
Everyone in the house comes running to see their miracle boy, and Matthew, with Lavinia’s help, stands up again. Everyone’s overjoyed. Robert asks Edith to go fetch Violet and Isobel and Dr. Clarkson.
Later, Clarkson tells the family that he made a mistake. I’ll say. He thought the spine was transected, which would have been incurable. Robert mentions another doctor who conferred on the case and figures he agreed with Clarkson, but it turns out he didn’t. He just thought it might be a case of spinal shock that would eventually wear off. Lavinia, very reasonably, asks why Clarkson didn’t tell them about the other doctor’s diagnosis. His response? “Because I didn’t agree with him.” Wow. Wow. What an arrogant asshole! You just went ahead and told poor Matthew that his life as he knew it was basically over, even though you weren’t sure, and when another doctor (presumably a very eminent one) disagreed with you, you just kept it to yourself? What the hell? This all seems a bit thin to me anyway, because for one thing, if they thought the back had been broken, couldn’t they have X-rayed it? They did have x-rays back then, they weren’t some brand-new thing. That would have told them right away if they were dealing with a break or something less severe. Also, why wouldn’t this other doctor have spoken to the actual patient at any point? Why would he only give his diagnosis to Clarkson? Why didn’t anyone else ask to speak with him? Or did Clarkson lie and say the guy backed him up? Because if that’s the case, I think a firing’s in order. It’s not like Clarkson’s that great anyway—it’s been established before that he’s not exactly keeping up with the latest treatments and he’s quite content to let patients have the worst possible outcome if it means he doesn’t have to take on any risk whatsoever. Oh, and then when Matthew told him he was feeling something in his legs, he still stuck to his original diagnosis and tried to convince Matthew it was all in his head! What a dick! Someone punch him in the face!
Nobody does. They’re all too overjoyed that Matthew will lead a normal life, though he will have a bruise on his spine for the rest of his days. I’d even get a second opinion on that, honestly. Robert invites everyone to stay for dinner, despite the fact that Clarkson’s not dressed properly and Robert’s wearing the dreaded dinner jacket. Even Violet doesn’t object.
Downstairs, Bates catches Anna and tells her he’s got something bugging him: turns out he bought the poison Vera used to do herself in. It was rat poison she told him they needed months ago. Anna advises him to tell the authorities, because it’ll look bad if he doesn’t.
At dinner, Violet asks how the work at Haxby’s going. Quite well, especially since there’s a clause in the workmen’s contracts that they’ll be fined for every day they go over schedule. Wow, I wish you could get away with that nowadays on a domestic project. Violet asks him why he’s in such a rush and he tells her he likes everything he owns to be in good order and ready to sell when he wants it. Come again? Sell? Carlisle, it seems, has yet to decide if it’ll be a good idea to be so close to Downton.
Matthew calls everyone’s attention and starts lavishing praise on Lavinia, who stuck by him through his terrible ordeal, despite the fact that she really didn’t have much to look forward to at the end of it. Now that things are looking up, he’s decided that he and Lavinia will be married as soon as they can arrange it. Furthermore, they want to marry at Downton so the film crew won’t have to hire another location. Everyone says how wonderful that news is, though Sybil looks like she’s completely zoned out.
Once again, Sybil goes down to the garage after dinner. She tells Branson about Matthew’s plan to get married. Oh, and also, she plans to marry Branson and run off with him. The look on his face actually makes up for the absurdity of this particular pairing and how it came about. He’s adorably gobsmacked. She tells him there won’t be any hanky panky until after they’re married, but for now, he’s content to just make out with her.
Robert and Cora are getting ready for bed, and Robert’s still jubilant about Matthew’s recovery. Cora, not so much, but that’s more because they’re going to have to host a wedding now, which’ll push back Mary’s nuptials. Man, she’s really desperate to get this daughter off her hands, isn’t she? Not that I really blame her. Cora goes on to imply that Matthew shouldn’t get special treatment just because he’s “been lame.” Lame? Lady, he didn’t fracture an ankle! Wow, talk about understating the situation. Robert calls her stupid and selfish, and she doesn’t offer any arguments in her own defense.
In the kitchens the next day, Patmore’s scurrying around trying to scrape a decent luncheon together while Thomas tries to sell her on his supplies, backed by O’Brien. Patmore’s skeptical about where the food came from, but he assures her it wasn’t stolen. She agrees to let him supply the ingredients for Matthew’s wedding cake, which she’ll be making early and soaking in booze, like all good cakes.
Douchebag Senior and Mrs. Douchebag arrive (their real names are the Bryants). She’s a sweetheart, but her husband’s living proof the jerky apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Mrs. Bryant asks to see her son’s room, and Hughes leaps forward to volunteer to show her, but Cora shoots her down and says she’ll do it. So much for that idea.
Hughes goes out to the game shed and tells Ethel this is a no-go, because she couldn’t get Mrs. Bryant alone. Ethel whines that she came a long way to see them, but there’s not much Hughes can do beyond suggesting she try writing them a letter and telling her it’s time to hit the road.
In the kitchen, Daisy screws up her courage and asks Patmore if she can make the wedding cake. Patmore’s reluctant to entrust her with it, but Daisy says she’ll do just as Patmore says, and if it’s lousy, there’s time to make another. Patmore agrees. Hughes comes in and, as she’s asking Daisy to make the Bryants’ chauffeur a sandwich, Ethel busts in and hustles down the corridor. Hughes spots her a bit late and runs after her.
The family and guests are having a peaceful lunch when Ethel bursts in, babe in arms and announces that he’s the Bryants’ grandson. Mr. Bryant demands to know what proof she has, but of course she has none. He insists that his son must have known about the baby and that he certainly would have done his duty. Sure he would. Ethel admits that he knew, but he did nothing. Mr. B takes that as proof the kid’s not his son. He shouts at her to remove herself and her kid, as the Downtonians look both horrified and disgusted by this man’s attitude. Mrs. B tries to say she wants to hold the baby, but her husband won’t have it. Ethel bursts into tears and Hughes leads her out of the room. When they’re gone, Bryant says it’s clearly a scam, because his son was perfect, and a gentleman, just like his father. Even Carson looks like he wants to upset the soup over this guy’s head. Isobel tries to bring things down a notch (ahh, there’s the good, tactful Isobel I’ve been missing!) by talking to Mrs. B about how both their sons are only children, and she understands a bit what she’s going through, since Matthew almost died. Before they can really bond, Mr. B throws down his napkin, says the afternoon’s ruined, and it’s time for them to go. I’m sure he’ll be sorely missed. Mrs. B tries to excuse her husband’s behavior by saying it’s all because of grief. Somehow I doubt that’s the only reason. I’m willing to bet he was like this before his son died.
Belowstairs, Anna’s playing with the baby while Ethel, looking defeated, says she doesn’t want Mr. B’s help if that’s what he’s like. O’Brien asks her how she managed to keep this a secret for so long and Ethel just lowers her head, admirably not selling out Hughes. Carson comes in and tells her it’s time for her to go. Bates stands up for her, telling Carson she’s very shaken, so Carson magnanimously asks her if she can manage the bus fare. Ethel says she’s fine and leaves.
Upstairs, the family’s having a post-mortem discussion of the luncheon. Mary can’t believe these people don’t want to know the only grandkid they’ll ever have, but Carlisle points out there’s no legal proof the child’s Douchebag’s. Matthew asks Isobel if one of her charities can help but Isobel reminds him that Ethel’s not a refugee, and the charities are stretched too thin as it is. Bored now, Mary rolls her eyes and says, from her perch of privilege and wealth, that Ethel’s made her choice and now she’s stuck with it. As you might have been had you not been lucky, Judgey. Lavinia quietly says that’s a bit harsh. “Is it it? Aren’t all of us stuck with the choices we make?” says Mary. Wow. Ouch. If possible, everyone looks even more uncomfortable than before.
Thomas has come through with his shipment, and Patmore seems happy with the ingredients, though she’s a smart one and refuses to pay until after she’s satisfied that the ingredients are all good ones. Payment on delivery of cake is her motto.
Later, as Matthew’s getting ready for dinner, he gets a surprise visitor: Violet. After some small talk about how happy she is he can walk again, she gets to her point and tells him Mary’s still in love with him. Poor Matthew doesn’t really know what to say here, because this is a seriously awkward situation, seeing as how he seems quite happy with Lavinia and is currently planning his wedding to her. Violet reminds him that he loved Mary once, and asks if he’s sure he couldn’t love her again? Oh, God, Violet, are you so bored you have to keep meddling in this? Let it go! They broke up, and he found and fell in love with someone else! Someone else who’s proven her worthiness about a billion times more than Mary has by choosing to stick with him, even when his situation looked completely hopeless! And it’s not like he’s only marrying her for that, either, he fell in love with her before he was injured! Matthew says as much, telling Violet he couldn’t very well throw Lavinia over just because he’s gotten better and won’t need her services as a nurse. Violet tells him that’s an honorable thing to say, and she won’t be upset with him for making his choice. That’s big of you. She goes on to say that marriage is a long business and he’ll be with one of these women for 40 or 50 years, so he’d better be sure to make the right choice. Well, when you put it that way, there’s no contest. Could you imagine spending every day for 50 years with Mary?
Downstairs, Edith’s engaging in some wedding talk with Lavinia, who thinks they’ll set a date in April, since Matthew should be walking normally by then. Off to the side, Carlisle listens in a bit, then asks Mary when she’ll set a date. He suggests the summer, and Mary finally agrees to the end of July, like she’s doing him a huge favor. See? 50 years with that. She suddenly asks him why he tried to bribe Anna when he could just ask her anything he wants to know. Carlisle takes her at her word and asks point blank if she’s still in love with Matthew. Mary insists she isn’t, because she’d never admit to loving a man who preferred someone else over her. Sigh. A lifetime with this petty, childish, self-centered brat. Ick. Carlisle, you have my sympathies. Mary ditches him for a bit and asks her mother where Sybil is. Cora tells her Sybil wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be coming down for dinner.
Belowstairs, Bates pulls Anna aside and tells her his lawyer’s been in touch, because Vera sent a friend of hers a letter before Bates saw her that last time. He produces a copy of it, which is so clearly meant to frame him for murder, because it says that he’s angry and she fears for her life. Didn’t Vera die several months ago? If it was deemed a suicide, why’s it still being investigated? Nobody went prying into Pamouk’s death, and socially he was far more important than Vera. I would have thought the London police would have a lot more to do than to investigate something like this for so long. Anna asks Bates what he said to her to make her write that. Bates only told her she was being unreasonable and that he meant to have it out with her. Anna asks if this is going to be a problem and Bates tells her this really doesn’t look good. Even in death this woman’s a massive pain in the ass.
After dinner, Mary goes to say goodnight to Sybil but finds her door locked and no response to her knocks forthcoming. Mary dispatches Anna to Hughes for the duplicate keys, and once she reappears with Sybil’s room key, they find the bedroom empty save for a note on the mantelpiece. Mary opens it and reads it and announces that Sybil’s eloped to Gretna Green. Ahh, the Vegas of the UK, maritally speaking.
Mary ropes in Edith to drive herself and Anna up there to intercept the couple. They guess Sybil and Branson will have to stop for the night somewhere, so they keep their eyes open for roadside inns.
Back at Downton, Daisy goes down to the kitchens to check on her cakes, which she’s all excited about, because she’s never done a wedding cake before. Patmore finds her and they decide to give the tasting slice a try. They dig in and almost immediately spit their mouthfuls out. Patmore asks Daisy what she did and Daisy tells her she did everything Patmore said. Patmore goes and double checks the ingredients and discovers the flour’s mostly plaster dust, the candied peel is ancient, and God only knows what the sugar or brandy are made from. She tells Daisy to chuck the ingredients and they’ll reassess what they can do.
On the road, Anna spots the Crawleys’ car parked next to an inn. Mary and Edith charge into Sybil’s and Branson’s room, where Sybil’s in bed and Branson’s snoozing on a chair beside her. Aww. Don’t ask me why I found that kind of cute. Both of them wake up fast when the Crawley sisters burst in. Mary expresses relief that nothing’s happened but Sybil thinks that quite a good deal’s happened, because she’s made up her mind to get married whether her sisters are there or not. Edith kindly tells her this isn’t the way to go about it, and Mary advises her to let their parents get used to the idea gradually so she doesn’t have to cut ties with her family. Sybil says they’ll never give her permission to marry the chauffeur and Mary reminds her that she’s 21 and doesn’t need permission. Hold up—she’s only 21? But she was 18 when last series ended in 1914. It’s now 1919. She should be at least 22 if not 23. Why am I even bothering?
Branson tries to tell Sybil that Mary’s tricking her to get her home, but Mary continues, telling Sybil it’s better to go do this proudly, in broad daylight than to go sneaking off in the middle of the night. Sybil visibly deflates and looks up at Branson, who guesses what she’s thinking immediately. He tells her to go home with the girls, then, if she thinks the family can make her happier than he can. Branson, don’t be selfish. She has a chance her to have it all—her family’s love and you. You know family’s important to her, so don’t try to guilt her like this, it doesn’t make you look like a good guy. Sybil asks him if he finds her so weak that he thinks she’ll just fall right out of love with him the minute he’s out of sight. She agrees that Mary’s right—she needs to go home and be honest with her parents and try to make this right with them. She kisses him on the cheek and then tearfully departs. Branson calls after Mary to tell her he’ll bring the car back in the morning. He knows Mary will try to persuade Sybil to abandon him, and Mary admits that’s true. I’m willing to bet I-Kissed-A-Farmer Edith will be an ally to Sybil, though. Before she leaves, Mary asks if he wants some money for the room. Wow, that was kind of condescending and offensive. Branson proudly tells her he can pay his own way.
None the wiser, Cora joins Robert for breakfast the following morning, asking where their daughters are. Robert figures Mary and Edith just aren’t down yet and Sybil’s still not feeling well, giving her an opening to drop in a mention of the Spanish Influenza. It’s about time somebody mentioned it, it’s only been raging and killing people left and right for a good six months now. I was starting to think that this, like so many other important events during the wartime period, would end up being totally glossed over. Robert asks Cora what she’s doing up so early and Cora explains that she’s meeting Isobel, who wants Cora’s help with the refugees. Robert’s surprised, since he thought the whole idea behind arranging that was to keep Isobel out of Cora’s hair. Cora wants to be useful. It’s strange to her to have so much time on her hands now all the soldiers are gone. Robert sadly asks why it’s different now than it was before the war and Cora says she doesn’t know, she’s just changed, that’s all. As did pretty much the whole world. Robert says he hasn’t changed, and she tells him not to be so sure about that before she kisses him on the cheek and heads off.
Once Robert’s alone, Jane slips into the room and offers to tender her resignation. Robert won’t hear of her being deprived of her livelihood just because he behaved inappropriately. He takes the blame for what happened entirely.
Apparently Patmore’s had a bit of a chat with Thomas, because he returns to his storeroom in the village and proceeds to absolutely trash the place. Ha! I’ll admit it—I’m glad to see him fail. He’s just such a jerk for absolutely no reason at all. And now he’s got a huge mess to clean up.
Matthew’s reading the paper in the sitting room at Crawley House while Lavinia embroiders quietly nearby. They’re the very picture of domestic comfort, if you ask me. Isobel comes in with Mary’s little good luck toy and asks Matthew what it is. He explains that it was given to him as a charm, but when Isobel suggests giving it away to one of the village kids, he snatches it out of her hands like it was filled with diamonds and explains that it might be bad luck to get rid of it. Just give it back, Matthew, cut ties!
O’Brien’s come down to the now trashed storeroom and hears from Thomas that his goods are rubbish. They certainly are now. She asks if he can get his money back, but he doesn’t’ even know where to find this supplier because they only ever met once in a pub. Thomas, you’re an idiot if you just accepted all this stuff without even checking it out first. Frankly, you deserved to get screwed over. He tells O’Brien he’s lost every penny he had, and then some. She asks him what he plans to do. You can always be a footman again, right? Oh, wait, no, that wouldn’t make sense, since you were going to be fired for stealing, so if Carson hires you back, I’ll be really annoyed with this show.