Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 67/572

There was a fresh fit of the sobbing crying. Molly burst out,--"I

don't think Mr. Roger should have told; he had no need to begin so

soon about his brother's failure. Why, he hasn't been in the house an

hour!"

"Hush, hush, love!" said Mrs. Hamley. "Roger is so good. You don't

understand. The squire would begin and ask questions before Roger had

tasted food--as soon as ever we had got into the dining-room. And all

he said--to me, at any rate--was that Osborne was nervous, and that

if he could only have gone in for the Chancellor's medals, he would

have carried all before him. But Roger said that after failing like

this, he is not very likely to get a fellowship, which the Squire had

placed his hopes on. Osborne himself seemed so sure of it, that the

squire can't understand it, and is seriously angry, and growing more

so the more he talks about it. He has kept it in two or three days,

and that never suits him. He is always better when he is angry about

a thing at once, and doesn't let it smoulder in his mind. Poor, poor

Osborne! I did wish he had been coming straight home, instead of

going to these friends of his; I thought I could have comforted him.

But now I'm glad, for it will be better to let his father's anger

cool first."

So talking out what was in her heart, Mrs. Hamley became more

composed; and at length she dismissed Molly to dress for dinner, with

a kiss, saying,--

"You're a real blessing to mothers, child! You give one such pleasant

sympathy, both in one's gladness and in one's sorrow; in one's

pride (for I was so proud last week, so confident), and in one's

disappointment. And now your being a fourth at dinner will keep

us off that sore subject; there are times when a stranger in the

household is a wonderful help."

Molly thought over all that she had heard, as she was dressing

and putting on the terrible, over-smart plaid gown in honour of

the new arrival. Her unconscious fealty to Osborne was not in the

least shaken by his having come to grief at Cambridge. Only she was

indignant--with or without reason--against Roger, who seemed to have

brought the reality of bad news as an offering of first-fruits on his

return home.

She went down into the drawing-room with anything but a welcome to

him in her heart. He was standing by his mother; the Squire had not

yet made his appearance. Molly thought that the two were hand in hand

when she first opened the door, but she could not be quite sure. Mrs.

Hamley came a little forwards to meet her, and introduced her in so

fondly intimate a way to her son, that Molly, innocent and simple,

knowing nothing but Hollingford manners, which were anything but

formal, half put out her hand to shake hands with one of whom she had

heard so much--the son of such kind friends. She could only hope he

had not seen the movement, for he made no attempt to respond to it;

only bowed.