My dearest Lady Kathleen,

What a dramatic start to the fifth season of “Downton Abbey”! House fires, indecent proposals, and network errors, oh my!

We’ll start with CPTV’s little mishap, in which, according to the Associated Press, “Downton” ended “abruptly … a few minutes before its scheduled conclusion” and went to a commercial. I experienced no such disruption on the HDTV channel I was watching, but I can imagine the dismay of our fellow Abbeys. I only wish the Dowager Countess could have weighed in with some pithy remark to dress down the programmers.

Of course, there was no shortage of Violet-style wisdom last night. My favorite? “Principles are like prayers; noble, of course, but awkward at a party.”

Cheers to that. And honestly, did Sulky Sarah Bunting HAVE to display the chip on her shoulder so prominently at dinner? You can disagree with the gentry all you like, but when you’re a guest in someone’s home, I say, try and avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness. In short, have your principles, but don’t be a twerp about it. Ditto for Lord Grantham, who might’ve been a better host.

Here’s where you yell at me for being a snob.

But I still love you,

Mdme. M. 

***

Madame M,

I don’t think you’re a snob — most of the time. I agree Sarah behaved rudely, and I don’t blame Lord Grantham for lashing out at her. I loved how the dinner came to a complete standstill because Sarah expressed an opinion — god forbid.

It was quite the satisfying opening to the fifth season — except for when CPTV ended the episode midfire. I let out a scream that could be heard on the other side of the house. (Although my husband didn’t come running, because he never does when I scream. It happens.) I grabbed the remote and frantically tried to find another PBS station. Which I did. Sigh ...

I loved the seeing all the adults so prim and proper and laced up and then the children come running in. And little Cybil calls the stately and dignified Lord Grantham “Donk” instead of Grandpapa — a sign of changes to come.

Lord Grantham is passed over in favor of his head butler, Carson, to head the committee to honor those who died in the war, and Lady Mary is not such a proper lady after all, notes Thomas as he sees Lord Tony sneak into her bedroom. Mrs. Crawley is being wooed by Lord Merton, which would mean if they married she would become a lady herself, on the same level as the countess, and the countess is not amused.

And downstairs Mr. Mosley is dying his hair, Daisy wants to learn math, and Baxter — who does not want to be bullied by Thomas — confesses to stealing jewelry from her former employer. Oh, there’s change a’coming — for everyone.

My favorite line of the night, of course, was from the Dowager: There’s nothing simpler than avoiding people you don’t like; it’s hard to avoid your friends.

Fabulous outfits, fabulous dinner party, and Edith may find a way to pay attention to her illegitimate daughter — I can’t believe that secret is going lay buried much longer.

Always.

K 

*** 

Lady K,

And wouldn’t it figure that if ANYONE is going to set fire to Downton, it would be Lady Edith? When she threw Gregson’s German primer across the room, I thought, “Um, excuse me, missy! Books are our friends. Rude!” Well, Edith did us one better and raised the whole incident from rude to spectacularly dumb in one uncannily placed toss.

BUT, how about Lord Grantham being actually USEFUL in the fire? I couldn’t believe how quickly he sprang into action! He’s calling for sand, and hoses, and the fire department and organizing the evacuation to boot! I didn’t think he had it in him! (Although: did he REALLY have to call on Tom first, as his fire-fighting assistant? Read: You’re the help, Tom, and you’ll always be the help, Tom, so help me!) And BARROW is Edith’s hero? BARROW is physically capable of carrying her out to safety? BARROW gave a damn about someone else for a change? Pass the smelling salts!

Other highlights? Mr. Carson on The Spot as he: detracts Barrow and James from their “smutty deliberations” about Lady Cougar… I mean Anstruther; catches Lady A pawing James more than once; and advises Mr. Mosley to “take steps” to sort out his hair, lest he be banished downstairs forever — all having already won the admiration of the people in the village. (Although I thought he’d do more with the postmistress’s request for the “milk in first” tea, a point of much debate in the U.K.)

And let’s not forget his eloquent observation about the changing times: “I feel a shaking of the ground I stand on … that everything I believe in will be tested and held up to ridicule over the next few years. Wise man. Luckily, Mrs. Hughes returns with a still more astute point: “They’ve been testing the system since the Romans left.” Preach it sister.

Love,

M. 

*** 

Dear Love,

I feel bad for Edith. Why does Mary hate her? Really, what has Edith ever done to anyone? For Mary to say Edith set her room on fire, as if she did it on purpose … It’s not like she meant to start the fire. I hope Mary goes away for a week with Tony and a HUGE scandal breaks out. She is one cold fish; as she told Tony, “I love in you in my cold and unfeeling way.” Geez, she annoys me.

But I was watching one of the historical shows about the aristocracy and it said that it was common for the men and the women in the upper classes to have lovers on the side. It was never talked about but accepted. So Mary can have a lover die in her bed and everyone covers it up, but Edith takes up with a newspaper man and its’ scandalous? I hope something good happens for Edith.

But as an aside, what kind of name is Marigold? I don’t remember how Edith’s daughter came to be called Marigold. Did they find her in the marigolds?

Meanwhile, the servants are getting tired of serving. The documentary I saw showed how England was falling apart, the poor were so poor and the rich were indifferent and kept hosting lavish parties and pretending nothing mattered. Then with the wars, it call came crashing down on the aristocracy.

Another omen of things to come: “No one takes carriage rides through the park anymore.” Oh, Countess, what will happen to you?

Yours from downstairs,

k 

*** 

K,

What’s interesting is Carson’s strict adherence to the old order, despite the old order’s preference to keep him in service. He finds value in what is pretty much a caste system. Is room, board, and meals so tempting an arrangement? Can someone be truly happy in a gilded cage like Downton? I kind of admire his loyalty, but I’d love to psychoanalyze him…

As for Mary vs Edith, it’s simple sibling rivalry. Edith exists, therefore Mary finds her irritating. And not for nothing, Edith gives it back to her sister plenty. (“I thought only imbeciles were happy all the time,” she counters to Mary’s admittedly unfair snipe at her still-grieving sister.) I suspect some terrible eventuality will result in a sisterly truce. After lots more sniping and conniving, of course.

And I endorse Mary and Tony’s naughty plan. Without being graphic, it just makes sense. Too bad they can’t be roommates for longer than a few days. One argument over a misplaced toothbrush or toilet seat is enough to test any couple’s devotion, amIright?

I’m glad you brought up Miss Marigold. What. The. Heck? The last Marigold we knew was Roger Sterling’s daughter, who took Marigold as her hippie-commune name, on “Mad Men.” Not a very good precedent, if you ask me. And what’s with all the characters with flower names on this show? We have: Violet, Ivy, Daisy, Rose! They could’ve at least gone with Lily or Iris or even Petunia over Marigold! What’s wrong with Heather? Or Jasmine? Bizarre. I wonder if Edith or Mrs. Fire Captain named her…

Looking forward to next week, in which we shall talk about Mr. Bates’ ready creepiness this season.

Please call me Bluebell,

Formerly M. 

P.S. I’m not sure I’m satisfied with Cora’s reaction to Baxter’s secret. I’m a pretty soft touch, but I wouldn’t be thrilled with a known thief in my jewelry-filled manse. If she offered some sort of reason why she did it – she needed the money for an operation perhaps; her kid needed braces; her cripple mother was starving to death — I might be more moved by her plight, but the total lack of excuse as to why she did it rang a little hollow and ill-conceived (ahem, writers).

*** 

Dear Blue,

Good points all. I always wondered why sweet Anna is so attracted to him then I saw him out of character.

I still think Mary dishes out way more than she gets. Everyone thinks she is so smart and so clever and so beautiful and she’s just a mean, ornery B, who will never be happy. There, I said it. But I know you love her — and it’s OK.

Love ya,

K 

We’re on Twitter: @edgecombday and @TheMDesk