Growing Up Downton

July 1932

Sybbie was having a panic attack inside. 6 year old Princess Elizabeth was coming to Downton. She was dressed in the fanciest, most proper frock she had. It had been cleaned, pressed, folded, and pressed again.
Mary was trying to curl her poker straight hair into corkscrew curls.

"Ouch! Please stop pulling!" Sybbie cried.

"Then stop squirming!" Mary rolled her eyes.

"I'll stop squirming when you stop pulling!"

I'll stop pulling when you stop squirming!"

They both bickered until the job was finally done. Her hair bounced at slight movement, and it complimented her lovely outfit.

Sybbie wore a white and lavender frock, with white tights and white shoes. Edith had forced her into white gloves and tying a lavender ribbon into the back curls to hold them in place. With her hair freshly curled, and landing softly above her shoulders, she looked like a princess.

"Now, we must get a photograph of you three. You all look like royalty!" Mary exclaimed.

George and Sybbie exchanged bored glances. Sybbie didn't want to be in her dress, George didn't want to be in his new brown suit and shoes. But Marigold, she was ecstatic to be wearing a brand new dress. She especially loved that it was an awful (In Sybbie's opinion) cotton candy pink colour.

"Why must I wear these itchy black knee socks?" George whispered to Sybbie.

"The same reason I must wear this dreadful dress with these stupid gloves!" She whispered back.

"Smile you two!" Edith broke into their conversation.

They faked their smiles, took the photograph, and took their places outside, waiting for the princess.

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A huge, fancy car pulled up to the house. A little girl dressed in blue, with golden hair and porcelain skin, jumped out. An elegant lady came out next. The men bowed, the ladies curtsied. Marigold stumbled with her curtsy, which made George and Sybbie giggle quietly. They got disapproving stares, but Sybbie noticed the Princess was stifling a laugh.

Inside, Sybbie was instructed to take the younger children up to the nursery. When they entered, Princess Elizabeth spoke.

"Hello." She smiled.

"Hello, Princess Elizabeth. My name is Miss Sybil, and I am 12 years old. This is Master George, he is 11, and our youngest cousin, Miss Marigold, is 10." Sybbie spoke kindly.

"Why is he called 'Master' George?" She asked.

"He is the Heir to Downton." Sybbie answered, "When he gets older he'll own the house."

"When you get older what will you be?" Marigold said.

"I don't know. I might be the Queen one day, but I'm the Princess for now." She said.

She was a very smart 6 year old.

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Sybbie climbed up the stairs and heard crying. She opened the nursery door to the Princess on the floor, George attempting to console her.

"Whatever is the matter here?" Sybbie asked.

"The little Princess stole my doll. She stole my good doll with, too." Marigold pouted.

"Well, what did you do?" Sybbie said.

"I took it from her." She said quickly.

"Yes, you took it from her, but then you hit her arm very hard!" George exclaimed.

Sybbie sighed with disappointment, and crouched down to Elizabeth.

"Oh, come now. Stop those tears, we'll have to swim out of the house!" Sybbie said cheerfully.

Elizabeth laughed. Sybbie took a handkerchief and dabbed away her tears.

"She only acts like that because she's a bit spoiled by her mummy." She whispered.

Marigold was spoiled. Edith doted over her, getting her whatever she pleased, and never said no.

"I think my arm is alright now." She said, sniffling, "Thank you."

Sybbie smiled. Maybe her family was right. Maybe she did have the special touch.