Downton Abbey recap: Edith and Mary continue their battling -

The end, as they say, is nigh.

But “Downton Abbey’s” penultimate episode was a goodie, tying up plenty of loose ends before the series finishes its six-year run, but also leaving enough unanswered that the show’s finale on March 6 promises to be must-watch television. Well, must-watch for those of us who love a good period-piece soap opera, that is.

My head is spinning with all that went on tonight, but we have to start somewhere, so why not with yet another visit by the local constabulary to the abbey. Honestly, the police should just open a sub-station at Downton. It seems to be the hotbed of local criminal activity.

So, who have the coppers come to arrest this time? No one, it turns out. Our favorite sergeant is simply there to inform Mrs. Patmore that the first couple that stayed at her lovely bed and breakfast were not in fact a Dr. and Mrs., but a Mr. and Mistress. The wronged spouse is suing for adultery and Mrs. Patmore may be called upon to testify. Juicy.

The sergeant says that once this gets in the news, Mrs. Patmore’s B&B will be known as, wait for it, … a house of ill repute. Gasp! Mrs. Patmore is floored, flummoxed, flabbergasted. Mrs. Hughes is amused. Everyone finds out and they all think it’s quite funny. Everyone, that is, except grumpy Mr. Carson who worries how it will reflect on Lord and Lady Grantham. I’m not sure what Mrs. Hughes still sees in Carson. He’s been stuffed with lemons all season. This silly sideplot ends well for Mrs. Patmore when the blue-bloods bail her out by having tea at her house of illicit amour.

Edith – ever unlucky in love — wants to accept Bertie Pelham’s proposal, but she can’t decide whether to tell him about Marigold. She thinks Bertie won’t accept her if she reveals the truth. Well, you better decide in a hurry, honey, because there will soon be a lot at stake.

There’s news from Tangiers. Bertie’s cousin, the Marquess, has died of malaria. Mary immediately believes this only worsens Edith’s luck since the news probably means that Bertie will be out of a job. And if that’s true, she thinks, Edith probably won’t marry him after all.

“My romance may not be the only one to come to an untimely end,” she confides, a little too gleefully, to Mrs. Bates. Little does Mary know.

Mr. Molesley, who has come quite a ways from his sniveling early days on the show, has been offered the chance to teach a couple of classes a week at the local school. He asks Mr. Carson for permission.

“What makes you think you’d be any good at it?” Carson asks Molesley.

“I don’t know, exactly. Perhaps because I want it so much,” Molesley replies.

“There are plenty of little boys who want to be famous cricketers. It’s not enough to make them champions,” Carson says, unkindly.

Good thing Mrs. Hughes is there. She tells Molesley he can go ahead and do it. Her husband has been overruled. Carson’s uncharacteristic unpleasantness this season is a bit of a downer. Like an invasive species, it seems to have come out of nowhere and is now flourishing. I’m not sure what to make of it.

Lord Merton is still trying to butter up Mrs. Crawley. He’s hopeful that the invitation his son Larry’s fiancée sent Mrs. Crawley to their wedding is a good sign. But Mrs. Crawley knows that Miss Cruikshank is no dearie. She goes to visit her to find out for herself how bad she is. She’s suspicious of the wedding invitation and later tells Cruikshank that she won’t go to the wedding unless she’s asked by the awful Larry himself. Good luck with that, Isobel.

Mary is trying to fight off the advances of Henry. He’s still interested. And others are interested in pushing the two together. Especially Tom, who pushes so hard it’s almost like he has money riding on it. Or maybe a future as a race car mechanic? Mary is very good at coming up with reasons why it won’t work with Henry, but she does seem to be fighting herself. Tom is like a matchmaking terrier who won’t be deterred. A chubby terrier, but still.

The clan is gathered in the dining room talking about poor Bertie Pelham and his dead cousin. Edith comes in to say that’s she talked to Bertie and that he’s very sad. And then she delivers the big news. Bertie is the new marquess. Jaws drop. Edith is in line to outrich them all!

“Bertie Pelham is the new Marquess of Hexham?” Robert asks, incredulously. “Golly gumdrops what a turn up!” He’s always had a way with the English language.

Everyone is delighted. Everyone but Mary, that is. She would rather scrub toilets than have her sister win the love-and-lucre lottery. Edith is worried that Bertie will rescind his offer since she hasn’t yet accepted. Aunt Rosamund counsels her to tell Bertie about Marigold. Pretty much everyone knows that that’s what she has to do. But bad-luck Edith has never made things easy on herself.

Robert is very happy about Edith’s new prospects. Cora cautions him that Edith isn’t married yet.

“I know,” Robert replies, “but for poor old Edith who couldn’t make her dolls do what she wanted, it is rather wonderful.” Definitely the line of the night.

Downstairs, Daisy gets word from the schoolmaster that she’s passed her exams in flying colors. Now what, for her? Who knows? I’ve still seen no sign of romance between her and Andy the pig boy, so I’m not convinced that is going anywhere.

Cunning Mary finds out from Tom that Marigold is Edith’s daughter. In the hands of a caring sister, this information would lead to reconciliation and offers of assistance. In Mary’s hands, this information is a samurai sword. Edith doesn’t stand a chance.

Bertie arrives at Downton. He’s deeply saddened by his cousin’s passing.

“He was as kind to me as any man has ever been,” he says.

“Then how pleased he’d be to know that you’re his heir,” Cora replies and Bertie is overwhelmed by her sweetness. Nice one, Cora. Scoring points with the soon to be rich son-in-law.

At the school, Molesley is in class for his first day. It takes approximately two minutes before the kids start mocking the sub. They’re not excited. Not interested. Only the bell saves him. It’s a little sad.

Henry shows up unannounced to see Mary. Mary is not pleased. “This is so precisely not the way to win me over,” she tells him. Mary is pretty clear that she wants Henry gone, but he’s not buying it. “If you’re trying to get rid of me, I’m going to make this as hard and horrible as I can,” he tells her. I guess that’s meant to sound romantic, but it sounds a little stalkery. Mary storms off.

“She’s clearly quite mad about him, whatever she says,” says Aunt Rosamund. Really? She doesn’t seem mad about him. She seems mad at him. There is a difference, right?

Before bed that night, Bertie asks Edith for an answer. Edith tells him she loves him. But she doesn’t tell him about Marigold. Still, he takes her profession of love as a yes, and she doesn’t stop him. It reminds me of something I said once, “The truth is never as dangerous as a lie in the long run.” Oh, wait, that was former Washington Post executive editor and journalism giant Ben Bradlee who said that. (I do hope I’m named employee of the month for quoting him.)

Mary comes down for breakfast to find that Henry has already bolted. She’s mad and confused. Bertie decides this is the time to announce his engagement to Edith. Ooooh, Bertie, bad idea. Edith tries to head him off, but it’s too late. Mary is so bitter about Henry’s departure, she can’t even bring herself to congratulate Edith.

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“See,” says Edith. “The one thing Mary can’t bear is when things are going better for me than for her.” You probably didn’t need to take a shot at Mary right then, Edith. “I’m getting married and you’ve lost your man and you just can’t stand it,” she continues, pouring gasoline on the red hot coals. You can see the blood vessels about to burst in Mary’s temples. She’ll have her revenge.

“You must have told him,” she says to Edith. “You couldn’t have accepted him without telling him.”

“Tell me what?” asks a panicked Bertie.

“About Marigold. About who she really is,” Mary tells him. Well, that does it. The sisters from hell have taken pleasure in each other’s failures and now are both left feeling like … can I use the word s—-? The editors will let me know. [Ed note: Sorry, Joe.]

“Marigold is my daughter,” Edith tells Bertie, who then asks to be excused. And by “excused” he probably means forever.

Later, Edith and Bertie take a walk on the lawn. He tells her that he can’t trust her because she didn’t trust him. It isn’t that Marigold is Edith’s child that bothers him. It’s that she didn’t feel she could tell him.

“The truth is my life was about to be perfectly wonderful and now I’ve thrown it all away,” says Edith.

“I better go if I’m to catch my train,” Bertie replies, which is probably not the response she’d been hoping for. It’s a sad scene, but something tells me these two will be back together. Of course, I’ve been wrong before.

Tom rips into Mary for revealing Edith’s secret. She claims innocence, but he’s not buying it.

“Don’t lie!” he yells. “Not to me. You can’t stop ruining things. For Edith for yourself! You’d pull in the sky if you could.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds bad.

“You’re a coward Mary,” Tom continues. “Like all bullies, you’re a coward.” Do you think politicians watch this show?

Mary goes to see Edith and again tries to proclaim her innocence. Edith’s not having it.

“I know you,” she sneers. “I know you to be a nasty, jealous, scheming b—-.”

Mary tries to respond, but Edith cuts her off again.

“You’re a b—-! You’re not content to ruin your life, you’re determined to ruin mine.” For the record, the b-word counter is at two for tonight’s episode.

Mary tries again to defend herself, but Edith has at her.

“Don’t demean yourself by trying to justify your venom,” she tells her. “Just go.” Edith walks out but not without one more parting shot. “You’re wrong you know. As you so often are. Henry’s perfect for you. You’re just too stupid and stuck up to see it. Still at least he’s got away from you. Which is something to give thanks for, I suppose.”

If you were scoring at home, this bout went to Edith by unanimous decision. Mary looked punch-drunk.

Downstairs, bad luck Barrow gets another rejection letter. He’s feeling lower with each passing moment. Mrs. Bates and Miss Baxter see Barrow (all those Bs!) in the hallway and he doesn’t seem right. He’s been mopey all year, but now it seems particularly bad.

Miss Baxter walks with Molesley to school. They talk about Mr. Barrow’s increasing gloominess and Miss Baxter suddenly realizes things are worse with Barrow than she realized. She runs back to the abbey to find him. Andy tells her Barrow is in the bath and they knock on the door, but there’s no answer. Andy kicks in the door and they find Barrow in the bath. He’s cut his wrists and is bleeding into the tub, but he’s still alive. They apply tourniquets and send for the doctor. Barrow will survive, his deep despair now evident to everyone.

The news is relayed upstairs and they are all shocked. But evil Mary can’t help herself. “Do you still think dismissing Barrow was a useful saving, papa,” she asks her father who is justifiably affronted.

“That’s rather below the belt,” he responds. “Even for you.” Seriously, Mary, have you no decency?

At the school, Mr. Molesley decides to tell his unruly class about his upbringing and how he is still in service. The young kids respond to this. He’s one of them. And they start to pay attention. Daisy eavesdrops on the lesson and she is tickled at what at natural Molesley is. She reports this back to the staff and everyone is pleased with Molesley’s success.

Edith returns to London. She’s ruled out the idea that Bertie will come back. She tried to trick him and she doesn’t think he’ll forgive her. She visits her magazine where she and the editor plan to meet with the new advice columnist, Miss Jones, who is stopping in for tea.

It’s a mystery who she is. There’s much speculation and then, the big reveal. Miss Jones is none other than Mr. Spratt. No amount of drug-taking would convince anyone of the likelihood of this outcome. Spratt has as much to offer in the way of advice as a geranium. I’m so opposed to this development that the only way it makes sense to me is if the Dowager Countess is the real advice wizard and has sent Spratt in her stead as a cover.

Mr. Barrow is recovering from his suicide attempt and resting comfortably, I suppose, in his room. Mary and little George come to visit. There’s a feeling throughout the household that Barrow must be allowed to stay. His attempted suicide has restored his favor in the kingdom.

Tom has sent for the Dowager Countess to return from her self-imposed exile in France and deal with her two love-battered granddaughters. Mary is surprised to see her. Mary is still trying to defend her reasons for battling off Henry, but granny cuts to the chase and says the two love each other.

Mary then reveals that she’s fighting it because she lives in terror of Henry dying in a car race. “I can’t be a crash widow again,” she says, crying. And no one cries as convincingly as Mary. It’s almost enough to make you forgive all her nastiness.

The Dowager Countess convinces Mary to believe in love. So Mary summons Henry via telegram to tell him the good news. But before he arrives she visits Matthew’s grave. “Remember, however much I love him, I will always love you,” she says. It’s another beautiful scene and there are more elegant tears from Mary.

Mrs. Crawley is watching and is moved by Mary’s visit. She tells Mary she’s delighted that she plans to marry again.

Henry shows up to see Mary and she tells him she’s in love. She’s certain she’s met her match. “I know that if I leave you now I’ll never be as happy as we could be together,” she says.

Minutes later, it seems, they’re in a church getting married. Penultimate shows of a series have a way of pushing the action along. Who knows, by the finale they may well be grandparents.

Edith shows up on the wedding day to wish Mary well. It’s a magnanimous gesture on her part. Mary apologizes. She tells Edith she doesn’t know why she did it. Edith explains it for her.

“Because you were unhappy, so you wanted me to be unhappy too,” she tells Mary. “Now you’re happy again so you’ll be nicer. For a while.” That is a pretty succinct summing up of their relationship. Mary looks like she’s had the whole code revealed to her.

After Mary and Henry’s wedding, Robert is happy for the new couple, but wonders about Edith. She has given him the most surprises, he says.

“Yes, surprises of the most mixed variety,” his mother chimes in.

“A surprise is a surprise mama, and I’m sure we haven’t seen the last one yet,” Robert replies.

I’m sure we haven’t seen the last one yet, too. But we’ll have to wait an extra week until all is revealed. Is it possible that Edith’s Mr. Gregson wasn’t killed after all and he makes a miraculous return? Will Mrs. Patmore have a fling of her own in her bawdy B&B? Is it possible Tom and Edith will discover they were meant to be together? Will everyone become pig farmers?

Thanks for reading – especially if you got this far. We’ll wrap it all up on March 6.

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