And this time she had nearly finished learning the poem, when she heard Mrs. Hamley come hastily into her sitting-room that adjoined Molly’s bedroom, and burst out into an irrepressible half-hysterical fit of sobbing.  Molly was too young to have any complication of motives which should prevent her going at once to try and give what comfort she could.  In an instant she was kneeling at Mrs. Hamley’s feet, holding the poor lady’s hands, kissing them, murmuring soft words; which, all unmeaning as they were of aught but sympathy with the untold grief, did Mrs. Hamley good.  She checked herself, smiling sadly at Molly through the midst of her thick-coming sobs.

‘It’s only Osborne,’ said she, at last.  ’Roger has been telling us about him.’

‘What about him?’ asked Molly, eagerly.

’I knew on Monday; we had a letter—­he said he had not done so well as we had hoped—­as he had hoped himself, poor fellow!  He said he had just passed,—­was only low down among the junior optimes, and not where he had expected, and had led us to expect, But the squire has never been at college, and does not understand college terms, and he has been asking Roger all about it, and Roger has been telling him, and it has made him so angry.  But the squire hates college slang;—­he has never been there, you know; and he thought poor Osborne was taking it too lightly, and he has been asking Roger about it, and Roger——­’

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 does not 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.’