Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Hello, Doctor. I didn't know you were here. - No, Lady Grantham sent a message.

I'd have told Mr Carson,

Isn't someone going to answer it?

Show Dr Clarkson out.

She's looking very fidgety, lately, and I saw her hurrying to meet the postman.

- But she's a very hard worker! - Oh, I couldn't find any proofof it.

- Not bad, I hope. - No, not bad at all.

Thank heaven! Now, we need to talk about the garden party.

But if I delay, won't he think I'm only after him for his position?

Quite all right.

John Bates. He must have left the army about eight years ago.

And he's terribly clever. He might end up Lord Chancellor.

Oh, my Lord, listen to that. It's like the cry of a banshee.

I've done as I promised.

- Fancy a smoke? - Don't mind if I do.

Anna, are you set for the 9 o'clock train tomorrow?

I don't know. No one told me there'd be an actual operation.

- And the sauce for the fish? - Yes, Mrs Bird.

Well, thank you, Doctor. I'd better start writing some letters.

I don't understand what we've done differently.

- So when will they tell you? - When they've found a replacement.

Oh! Anna, you're back safely, then?

Mr Carson's telephone is ringing.

You'd be surprised!

Ofcourse! You know me, Carson.

These are the papers.

Well, my mother was a housemaid. I've got nothing against housemaids.

And do you think he's keen on her? Or is it worth a go?

What about you, Miss O'Brien?

Well, I'm very sad.

- Oh, that's all right. - No, it's not all right.

- Beg pardon, milord. - Don't apologise.

Wish me luck with it, Mary.

It seems that, when we were in London, she made a new friend.

Kindly show some respect.

They knew it was her.

Lfthere is a war, it may be very hard to have one installed in a private house.

Poor chap. He has our sympathies.

- Mrs Gaunt. - Oh, Mrs Gaunt.

I promise you, milord, if I could just be allowed a bit more time...

You've not had a chance to spoil that, I suppose.

I think you'd better dine with us, Mr Branson.

Or you'll end up with no job and a broken heart.

Edith, why don't you go, too?

Lord Grantham will decide what's to be done.

Dear Mrs Hughes,

Well, you're going any minute. She's advertised for your replacement.