“I’m not entirely sure that she is human. But I intend to find out.”
This episode offered more of everything we love: more talking, more harumphing, more potential Mary-mates, more Daisy ‘n’ Patmore, more Carson ‘n’ Mrs. ‘ughes, more Dowager vs. Isobel. It also offered less of everything we love: Isis was present in name only. And then there was doe-eyed Edith, stumbling and bumbling her way toward godmother status with baby Marigold, her secret daughter from her long-lost goose-stepping lover, Mr. Griegson.
Mrs. Pigman is justifiably horrified at ‘er lady’s intrusive visits, where Edith consumes the last of the tea and biscuits in the larder on a regular basis, never mind the fact that she has more than enough food at Downton. Mrs. Pigman goes on to say one of the only sensible things anyone says in the whole episode: “I don’t want her treating this like a doll’s house and Marigold like her doll!” Mr. Pigman, undeserving of his reputation for good sense, makes everything better by making everything worse. You’re on a need-to-know-basis, woman! he shouts. No, he doesn’t say that but he might as well have. I think the time has come to change the locks on the cottage, Mrs. Pigman. Because once Edith sets her sights on you, there’s no escaping, only fleeing. Fleeing the altar, fleeing to Germany. Poor Edith. She is a one-woman wrecking ball. Just like Miley Cyrus, only with more clothes on.
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