She's missed this. The house coming alive again like the old days, when house parties were the norm rather than the exception. She does what she must to keep the house operating, because the house must earn its keep and so most of the year Violet works alongside Addie Carson in the planning and hosting of visitors wanting to get a glimpse of a country manor house and what life is like for its inhabitants.

The parade of visitors during the summer months and at the holidays and the booking of corporate events may keep Downton Abbey's doors open, but it is the family's events that Violet treasures. While Grantham House may be Robert and Cora's base, the Abbey still holds significance in the celebratory life of the family and their dearest friends.

She's organized a family dinner for tonight; instructed everyone to be in the drawing room at seven o'clock sharp for pre-dinner cocktails and conversation and to be dressed in the attire befitting a pre-wedding dinner party. It isn't often that the family "dresses" for dinner anymore; the girls - Mary, Edith, and Sybil - preferring a soft jumper and jeans to a dress and pumps.

Wanting to make sure that the table is set properly, Violet is the first one downstairs. She's half across the great hall before something unusual catches her attention. She stops, rooted to her place, and listens.

"It's very posh, isn't it?" Standing before the dressing table mirror, Catherine surveys the Princess Amelia suite to which she's been assigned. The Princess Amelia Suite is like the set of an Edwardian period drama. Her mind flies back to stories her mother told her of her youth as a parlour maid; working or a few quid a week at a great house and surrounded by the family's finery; things so expensive she could never even hope to own a good copy. Large, sturdy furniture in dark tones; rich tapestries hanging on the wall, plush upholstery, and luscious carpets. If only her mother could see her now; the guest of a great family and Elsie's wedding party being held in the Great Hall of an ancient manor house.

"Aye, it is. But nice don't you think?" Elsie fastens the clasp on her mother's necklace. "There. All done. You look fantastic Mam."

"I feel a bit awkward if I'm honest. As if I'm on parade." Both women laugh gently as they check their lipstick in the dressing table mirror.

"This is posh innit?" Elsie cannot suppress a smile when she hears Beryl's Yorkshire twang float over her shoulder. Beryl stands just in the doorway. She's more dressed up than Elsie's has ever seen her, a black beaded jacket, silk pants and top; her hair down and turned under at her shoulder.

"It's not the farm, that's for sure," Catherine answers.

"Mam, just said the same," Elsie answers as she turns to embrace her friend. The two exchange a tight hug. "You look lovely. Where's Bill?"

"Gone down already. I think he was in search of a little dutch courage," Beryl laughs. "He's not used to sitting down at the main table. More accustomed to sending food out to it. Where's Becky?"

"Dressed and headed downstairs herself. She wanted to get a look at some of the pictures in the library. She's fascinated with that type of thing. Figuring out the techniques the painters used."

"How do people actually live this way?," Catherine questions smoothing a hand down the front of her dress.

"Mam, you do think that Charlie and I are laying claim to something to which we have no right? To be married here at a grand house among all this finery, when we are simple people?" Elsie's question stings and Catherine immediately regrets that she's said anything at all; the worry evident in Elsie's eyes, pulls her heartstrings taught. She may be a grown woman, but underneath Elsie's polished façade, Catherine still sees the little girl, working hard to please her parents.

"Elsie May, don't mind me," Catherine replies as her hand cups her daughter's cheek. "You deserve all the very best. I'm just not accustomed to such fuss. Sleeping in a room where the Queen once slept. It's just new is all."

"I know." Elsie reaches out and squeezes her mother's arm in support. "For me too. Come on then, let's go into the lion's den. Together."

Becky's hands fly from the polished white keys and into her lap when she notices the Dowager Countess standing in the doorway of the music room. Becky's stomach suddenly feels uneasy like the it did the time she was five and Elsie eight and they danced around the siting room with wild abandon before hearing the crash of their mother's good vase as it shattered into pieces.

"I'm sorry … "

"Don't be …" Violet interrupts, her fluttering wrist waving like a peace flag in the breeze. "I come in peace." As Violet makes her way further into the room, Becky begins playing an old Scottish folk tune, a rolling melody that makes the instrument hum.

"You play very well." Violet is genuinely impressed with the musical talents of her guest and wishes that she possessed a tenth of the skill Becky has.

"Thank you. I don't sing well though," Becky admits as she transitions into another tune, her long fingers gliding gracefully over the keys.

"No?"

"No. Elsie sings well, but she can't play the piano no matter how hard she tries," Becky replies with a bit of triumph in her voice and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"Well, no one is good at everything are they?"

"What are you good at?"

"Giving orders," Violet quips before adding, "or so my family tells me."

"Someone has to be in charge," Becky agrees. "Might as well be you."

"Hallelujah!" Violet exclaims as she sits down on the piano bench next to her guest. "Finally someone of my own understanding."

The women listening in the doorway chuckle, putting their hands to their mouths so they'll not be heard. Both Elsie and Catherine gaze at the scene fondly, seems Becky has made herself to home at the Abbey.

"Miracles never cease," Addie admits, astonished at the sight of Becky in close conversation with the Dowager.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asks.

"... and the lion shall lie down beside the lamb," Addie quips.

TBC …