Downton Abbey: Chicago Street Princess

Chapter 2: Improper, I Say!

After dinner, when everyone was heading up to bed, I notice Bethany stay behind (most deliberately I might add) to catch Barrow's attention.

"Mr..." she begins politely.

"Barrow, miss," he smiles in that way of his I can never quite place.

"Do you know who I could see about getting some yarn?"

Both Barrow and I are taken aback by the girl's request, "Some yarn, miss?"

"Yes, Mr. Barrow."

"I should imagine Mrs. Hues would be the person to go to about yarn."

"Is there a way I could see her before I go to bed?"

"I don't think it would be proper, miss?"

And so it isn't!

"Oh, please, Mr. Barrow? I just need a few minutes with Mrs. Hughes, please?"

Don't you even dare, Barrow... I warn hollowly.

"Follow me, miss," Barrow says with a sigh and an eye roll, leading Bethany down the servants' staircase and to Mrs. Hughes's sitting room.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Hughes joins Bethany.

"Forgive me if I'm being impertinent," Bethany says smally, "I don't wish to be."

"You're not, miss," Mrs. Hughes responds in her soft voice, "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, I'm Mrs. Hughes."

"I'm Bethany Stellper, Aunt Cora's grand-niece from Chicago. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Hughes."

"Likewise, Miss Stellper."

"Don't call me that please," Bethany winces, "I'm aware you have to address me as 'Miss', but don't call me 'Miss Stellper'."

"As you wish, miss."

"Thank you."

"Now," Mrs. Hughes folds her hands in front of her, "Barrow said you wanted some yarn."

"Yes," Bethany smiles, "I would like to do some knitting."

"Some... knitting?" Mrs. Hughes seems as confused as I am. If this girl is anything, she's the most confusing of anyone I've ever met.

"Yes, ma'am."

"If you want something knitted, I'm sure one of the maids could do it, miss."

"No, ma'am," Bethany shakes her head, "I want to do it myself. It's something that might make me feel more comfortable while I'm settling here."

"I don't think it's very proper, miss," Mrs. Hughes objects, looking around the room.

You think Americans could take a hint, I wish I had eyes to roll, She's not going to give you any yarn. No lady in this house has ever knitted for themselves, they've far better things to do than knit. Now, if you wanted to do needlepoint, that I could understand.

"No disrespect meant, Mrs. Hughes," Bethany begins, determination covering her every feature, "but I've just crossed an ocean to end up on the other side of the world from where I was born and raised for the first twelve years of my life, thrown into a society and class I don't know the first thing about except what I've been told by prejudiced street rats like myself, and I've just been told at dinner that I'm to be rooming with Miss Sybil, whose first reaction toward me made me feel like I'm a disgusting and foreign piece of dirt she'd rather have nothing to do with. I'm in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar things and unfamiliar people and I would like something familiar to do. I am willing to buy the yarn from you if that's what it takes, but I am going to get some yarn eventually and I would sincerely like it to be with your help, Mrs. Hughes."

A few moments of silence go by in shock.

She did not just address Mrs. Hues like that, I think astonishingly, It's obvious in her tone she didn't mean any disrespect, but that's certainly how it came out.

"Oh, alright," Mrs. Hughes decides, "But you've no need to buy it, I won't have you wasting your money on something we have plenty on. Not until we run out, that is, miss."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," Bethany takes a deep breath, smiling at her.

It doesn't take more than five minutes for the yarn to be fetched and put into a discreet basket for Bethany to carry up to her room.

"Oh," Mrs. Hughes says just before Bethany starts to leave, "don't call yourself a 'street rat,' miss. It's very self-degrading."

I'm a tad astonished at myself for missing such a comment said by Bethany.

"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Hughes," Bethany smiles sadly as if she was thinking of a memory where someone said something similar, "but it's what I am. I don't expect I'll be done with this basket before I'm on a ship back for America."

"You can't be sure of that, miss," Mrs. Hughes tries to tell her as Bethany opens the door.

She looks sadly down at the basket before saying, "Thanks for the yarn. Goodnight, Mrs. Hughes."

Bethany shuts the door behind her and begins to walk up the stairs, making her way to the gallery, before stopping and looking both ways.

Don't tell me no one's told her how to get to her own room? I think, almost laughing. I run through my memories at dinner tonight and find no one did tell her what room was her.

"I can show you your room if you want," Tom offers as he makes his way up the staircase.

"That would be nice, Cousin Tom," Bethany smiles softly as he leads the way.

"I'm terribly sorry about the way Sybbie acted earlier," he apologizes as they walk slowly down the hallway, "It was rude and I thought she knew better than to do such things."

"I don't blame her," Bethany adjusts the basket, "I'm not exactly fit for such a glamorous place."

"You're one to talk," Tom laughs, "I came to Downton to be the chauffeur, ended up marrying Lord Grantham's daughter--"

"Sybil," the girl interrupts, smiling with memories.

Tom turns to look at her with confusion, making Bethany stop, "How do you know that?"

Bethany looks at the ground, not in shame but trapped in memories of long ago, "Mom used to tell me stories of Downton to help me sleep. She said the 'Downton Drama' started when the Titanic went down and didn't quite settle down until '25 when Edith got married."

Tom smiles at Bethany, "I guess most of our drama did end when Edith got married, but I'm more amazed at the fact that you know so much about our lives."

Bethany shrugs and they continue walking down the hallway, "I know a few things, but Mom always said, 'Education is for eyes and ears, but learning requires all of you.'"

"That's a lovely way of putting it," Tom smiles and stops just outside her room, "This is the room you'll be sharing with Sybbie. Remember, it's left from the staircase and the sixth door on the left-hand side wall."

"Thank you, Cousin Tom, you've been most helpful," she smiles and places her hand on the door, "I hope we can swap stories again soon."

"I hope so, Bethany," Tom nods and smiles, then leaves for his own room.

Bethany stares at the door and then breathes deeply before opening the door and entering.

If Sybil has anything to say about it, getting lost finding your room is the least of your worries.