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March 1913.
Margaret gets in the car and tells the driver where she would like to go. The driver brings her to the front door of the Crawley House. Molesley opens the door, "Lady Margaret."
"Molesley," she smiles, "I've told you countless times, it's Margaret. No Lady nonsense."
He smiles, "My apologies. It feels rather odd."
"Nonsense. We're not in a formal setting. If we were in a formal setting, Carson would ring your neck."
He chuckles, "I suppose you're correct. How can I help?"
"I have tea with Mrs. Crawley."
He nods, "Ah, yes. Do come in."
She follows Molesley into the sitting room where she finds Isobel reading a book in her chair, "Lady Margaret Crawley, ma'am."
"Thank you, Molesley."
Margaret smiles, "Cousin Isobel, how are you?"
"I'm just fine. And you?"
"Quite well. Thank you for the invite to tea," she sits on the couch across from Isobel, "I was pleased to know you wanted to spend more time with me. I thought we'd scared you off."
Isobel smiles, "Nonsense. You've all been so welcoming."
"Have we?"
"Perhaps some more than others, but you in particular have been quite nice."
"I'm glad to hear that," Margaret smiles, "How have you and Matthew been settling in? Settling in well?"
"Oh, yes. The hospital has been rather great. Getting to help so many people. It's very rewarding."
"That's so wonderful to hear..." she replies, "and Matthew? I know it's been rather difficult with Mary being... Mary."
Isobel smiles, "I think he's doing well. It's been an adjustment, certainly, but I think he's doing quite well. He enjoys his job at the law office."
"Oh, that's wonderful," Margaret says.
"And he's mentioned a young gentleman you've been seen with on occasion. Mr. Daniel Campbell."
Margaret rolls her eyes, "Nothing is going on with Mr. Campbell. He's simply a good friend. Besides, Papa would never let that happen. I must marry rich."
"But surely your father would support the marriage nonetheless?"
She chuckles, "Lord Grantham support his daughter's marriage to someone of a lower class? Certainly not. It's his life's work for us to be taken care of when we're married. And most of the time, we have no say." The two women continue to chat before Margaret looks to the large clock, "Oh, dear, I've lost track of the time. I must be heading back. Thank you for the tea, Cousin Isobel."
