Of late, my weekend breakfasts pay homage to “Downton Abbey,” shown on PBS’ “Masterpiece Theatre,” Sundays at 9 p.m. As I stir oatmeal and make cinnamon toast, I ponder the fates of the Crawley family.

I may be a sucker for English dramas, but I’m in good company. Millions of viewers have caught “Downton Abbey” fever, sipping sherry and watching unfolding tales of nobility and manor staff. Nobody does “superiority by birth” better than the British.

This is “Downton Abbey’s” second season. As the first ended, Lady Grantham and her husband, Lord Grantham, the Crawleys, owners of Downton Abbey, were recovering from the loss of family aboard the ill-fated Titanic.

Though their estate is kept afloat by Lady Grantham’s money, in 1918, the law of the land did not permit women to inherit property. That privilege or burden fell on the shoulders of the oldest male heir. The Crawleys have three daughters.

After the “Titanic” tragedy, by default, the male heir-in-waiting became a distant Crawley cousin, Matthew, who moves to the local village with his well-intended, but take-charge mother.

In a perfect world, the Crawleys’ daughter, Mary, and Matthew would fall in love, marry, have a son, and “Downton Abbey’s” future would be secured. But, as season two began, Lady Mary and Matthew were leading separate lives. He is in the thick of fighting in World War I, has met and become engaged to another.

The staff at Downton Abbey (itself a character in the series) has rolled up a few Oriental carpets, transforming the grand house into a convalescent hospital for returning wounded.

Lady Grantham, honing her organizational skills, is running the show. Her husband, wearing a military uniform (“I may not be a real soldier, but I think I should look like one”) juggles his roles as estate manager, worried father and lord of the manor house, still dressing in white tie and tails for dinner, his kitchen staff feeding healing soldiers and the Crawley clan.

Downstairs, story plots abound. A shy lass in the kitchen marries a dying soldier, a fellow former servant, in a deathbed scene. Lord Crawley’s valet, an old army comrade, hopes to divorce his scheming wife, (who once landed him in prison, falsely accused of theft) and live happily ever after with Lady Crawley’s maid.

The major-domo, Mr. Carson, keeps a stiff upper lip in spite of dealing with Thomas, a returning staff member, now an army sergeant. Thomas has donned a false persona and been named liaison between patients and the upstairs/downstairs members of the Crawley household. In truth, he is a thief and has gotten himself shot in the hand to escape returning to active duty.

But the sauce for the pudding in “Downton Abbey” is Lord Crawley’s mother, the Dowager Duchess, played by Maggie Smith. She may use a cane, but her wit is rapier-sharp, her sense of tradition, formidable, as she struggles to come to grips with the strong wills of her three granddaughters, who do not march to her tune.

As the lives of the fictitious Crawley family and their servants unfold, life at the real “Downton Abbey,” an estate in rural Hampshire, England, “Highclere,” circa 1679, soldiers on.

Last October, 4,000 visitors came to see the castle in one afternoon. The Carnarvons, the eighth earl and wife, live at “Highclere” and work around the 100 crew members filming “Downton Abbey.”

Tonight, as the Super Bowl revs up, the “Downton Abbey” faithful, fortified by oatmeal and cinnamon toast, will be glued to the series to see if Matthew Crawley, gravely wounded, gives up on life. If he does, I will be awash in Kleenex.

Still, hope springs eternal for the Patriots, the Giants and fans of “Downton Abbey.” Hearts may be broken, temporarily, by a football game or an Edwardian drama, but there’s this. Campaign politics will be muted for four quarters or more. God bless quarterbacks and gifted actors!

Judy Elliott is an award-winning columnist from Marietta.