While Downton Abbey is on hiatus until the third season
begins on PBS this fall, bereft fans of the series will need
something to sustain them Sunday nights during the interim, so I
have taken the liberty of devising my own miniseries from the
outtakes of Upstairs/Downstairs, Brideshead
Revisited, and Downton Abbey:
Lady Brideshead: Dear me, I
rang seconds ago for the footman to move this foot stool to the
other end of the drawing room? Whatever can be keeping
him?
Lord Brideshead: Come now,
my dear, we mustn’t be too harsh with the staff. It is World War I,
you know, not to mention this nasty Spanish Influenza business.
Perhaps you could move it yourself. Good footmen are terribly hard
to find these days.
Lady Brideshead: I recognize
that, Charles, but Wilson has been highly unreliable of
late.
Lord Brideshead: I suspect
he may be dallying in the pantry with the new undergarment maid,
Betsy.
Lady Brideshead: My word, I
wasn’t aware we had hired a new undergarment maid. Why wasn’t I
told?
Lord Brideshead: You were
busy discussing next week’s menu with Mrs. Ramekin about what to
serve when the king comes to dine on Thursday.
Julia (their eldest and
least attractive daughter): Oh, no — not the
king again. He can be such a dreadful bore.
Lord Brideshead: Yes, and
he’s become quite a freeloader since the coronation, but all in all
he’s a decent enough chap.
Margaret (their
conniving middle daughter): Is the Duke of
Mannerly coming to call today? I was thinking of marrying
him.
Lady Brideshead: I’m afraid
he’s already engaged to Julia.
Julia: No, no, mother, I
keep telling you — I’m engaged to Sir Basil Goodbody.
Margaret: Oh, then perhaps I
shall marry the Duke, assuming he has a large enough endowment to
keep me from being cast out into the streets.
Julia
(titters): I assure you, he is
quite well endowed!
Lady Brideshead: I am so
sorry, my dear, for forgetting your engagement to Sir Basil. Is he
that dark haired fellow with the smirk or the slender blond chap
with the lisp?
Margaret: Oh, mother, you’ve
simply become impossible!
Lady Brideshead: You must
forgive me — I have so much on my mind, what with the upstairs
maid falling out the window…and before I was fully dressed, too.
That girl always did have such cheek! We really must arrange for
her funeral soon.
Lord Brideshead: I supposed
this means we had best engage a new upstairs maid to serve you
breakfast in bed.
Lady Brideshead: Yes, I do
so detest having to take my breakfast downstairs. I’m just
exhausted afterward. Dear, will you be riding to hounds this
afternoon?
Lord Brideshead: I suppose
so. First, though, I must have a word with Chauncey about
forgetting to lay out my cravat yesterday. He seems to be getting
awfully forgetful.
Julia: But papa, he is
104.
Lord Brideshead: So he is,
so he is. The old boy’s been here so long I tend to
forget.
Lady Brideshead: That’s no
excuse for neglecting his household duties. Perhaps we should
engage a younger man if Chauncey is unable to carry out his
assigned tasks.
(Door opens; Manfred the
butler enters): Will there be four for
luncheon today, m’lady?
Lady Brideshead: I shan’t be
dining in town, Manfred, but Lord Brideshead will be foxhunting so
kindly ask Mrs. Ramekin to pack a basket for the master — perhaps
quail and cucumber sandwiches. It will only be myself, Julia and
Margaret today.
Lord Brideshead: And
Manfred, if you could tell Mrs. Ramekin to heat the boiled quail
this time.
Manfred: Of course, m’lord.
Will that be all?
Lady Brideshead: Quite so
(he leaves). Margaret, you seem to be weeks behind on your
knitting. Have you been consorting again with the
chauffeur?
Margaret: Oh, mama —
please! Dawson is a dear friend.
Julia (sniffs): Oh,
is that what you call him! I saw you two headed for the caretaker’s
shed.
Margaret
(hesitantly): Well, then, it’s probably time I told
you all. I am pregnant.
Lord Brideshead: I suspected
as much. I’m not a bit surprised. You’ll be disinherited, of
course, and banished from the house at once. Please get your things
and go!
Julia: Ooh, goody! Then I
shall inherit Margaret’s share of the family fortune.
Lord Brideshead: I’m afraid
there is no more fortune. I was at my club yesterday and learned
from our solicitor, Sir Humphrey, that our estate is
bankrupt.
Julia: But I was counting on
marrying the Earl of Marmalade. I do so adore Earls!
Lady Brideshead: He’s two
notches beneath our social class, my child. If you marry him, the
Brideshead name shall be tarnished forever and the scandal would
ruin us.
Lord Brideshead: I fear
we’re ruined already, my dear.
Margaret: It serves you both
right. You’re all an insufferable lot of snobs!
Lord Brideshead: I had
better tell Manfred that there will only be three for lunch now
that Margaret has been banished from the Brideshead
manor.
Margaret: You mean I can’t
even stay for lunch and bid farewell to the downstairs staff that
raised me from an infant? (stamps her foot) How
frightfully beastly!
Lord Brideshead: I’m afraid
not, my dear. You must leave at once, and you too Julia.
Julia
(weeping): Maybe I acted too
hastily, papa. I’ll renounce the Earl of Marmalade and cancel my
engagement if only I can stay for lunch.
Lady Brideshead: Very well,
child. Do as you please. This is all so tiresome.
Margaret: After thinking it
over, I’ve decided that I won’t have the baby, after all, but I
will have lunch. I’m dreadfully sorry to have caused such
confusion.
Lord Brideshead: So that
will now be two or three for lunch? Oh, dear, I fear Mrs. Ramekin
will be beside herself. This means she will have to reset the
table.
Lady Brideshead: I’m really
quite exhausted by all of these changes of plans before lunch.
Kindly make up your mind, girls. The future of the Brideshead name
may depend upon it! (theme music swells and scene
fades).
(Laura Linney: Next week on
Upstairs/Downton Revisited: Lord Brideshead: “Good God,
Manfred — my cufflinks are nowhere to be found and the king is due
here for dinner in 15 minutes!”…”I’ve looked everywhere, m’lord. I
fear they’ve gone missing!”)
