We open on a procession of stately black cars arriving at Downton Abbey, not unlike the queue of limos carrying emotionally unstable suitors that rolls up during the premiere of The Bachelorette. Carson, channeling his best Chris Harrison, greets the newcomers as they exit their vehicles with a customary rose in hand grimace intact. Edith and Cousin Rose wait outside, ready to pounce on any of Widow Mary’s romantic discards, and that is when we see him: Lord Gillingham, the man who will help Lady Mary get her groove back.

Anna (Joanne Froggatt) enjoys a mild flirtation with the valet of visiting Gillingham; and at first, Mr. Green appears charismatic, charming, the life of the party, incessantly interested. Of course, Mr. Bates isn't too keen on this Mr. Green person; he pads around the house with a forlorn look on his face, his chipmunk cheeks quivering in rage as he shouts "ANNA!" at the kitchen staff room in an effort to snap her out of it. Perhaps Anna was flattered by the male attention, or perhaps she lost herself in the thrill of playing that weirdly hysterical game of cards; either way, none of it could have prepared us for what was to come next. As opera singer Dame Nelli Melba performs for the household, Anna excuses herself to procure some headache medicine downstairs. Mr. Green, acutely aware of his opportunity, follows her, then violently attacks her and rapes her.

The fact that Anna was attacked downstairs while Nellie Melba’s soaring vocals upstairs muted the sound of her screams brutally underlined a truth that, as Maureen Dowd recently noted, sometimes can be forgotten on Downton Abbey: that there’s still a wide, ugly gulf between living above and working below. The staff may have been permitted to sit in the company of finely dressed aristocrats and enjoy the lovely concert. But beneath the surface, Julian Fellowes reminded us, things often remain grim and unforgiving.

Downstairs, Mrs. Hughes walks into her sitting room and we finally see Anna, conscious but battered, hiding in the corner. She’s weeping, disheveled, bleeding. She tells Mrs. Hughes to make excuses for her and tell nobody, especially not her husband, who we know to be capable of more than a bit of violence. He’ll kill her rapist if he ever finds out, she’s sure, and she also knows he won’t go free when he’s tried for murder a second time. When Mr. Bates does see her injuries, she says she fainted and hit the edge of the sink on her way down — but she can’t hide that something’s the matter as she flinches from his touch and insists on walking home alone, crying in the dark.