‘I’ll go to her myself, poor child,’ said Mrs. Hamley, rising.

‘Indeed you must not,’ said he, laying his hand upon her arm.  ’We have kept you waiting already too long; you are looking quite pale.  Hammond can take it,’ he continued, ringing the bell.  She sate down again, almost stunned with surprise.

‘Whom is he going to marry?’

‘I don’t know.  I didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell me.’

’That’s so like a man.  Why, half the character of the affair lies in the question of whom it is that he is going to marry.’

’I daresay I ought to have asked.  But somehow I’m not a good one on such occasions.  I was as sorry as could be for her, and yet I couldn’t tell what to say.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I gave her the best advice in my power.’

‘Advice! you ought to have comforted her.  Poor little Molly!’

‘I think that if advice is good it’s the best comfort.’

‘That depends on what you mean by advice.  Hush! here she is.’

To their surprise, Molly came in, trying hard to look as usual.  She had bathed her eyes, and arranged her hair; and was making a great struggle to keep from crying, and to bring her voice into order.  She was unwilling to distress Mrs. Hamley by the sight of pain and suffering.  She did not know that she was following Roger’s injunctions to think more of others than of herself—­but so she was.  Mrs. Hamley was not sure if it was wise in her to begin on the piece of news she had just heard from her son; but she was too full of it herself to talk of anything else.  ’So I hear your father is going to be married, my dear?  May I ask whom it is to?’

’Mrs. Kirkpatrick.  I think she was governess a long time ago at the Countess of Cumnor’s.  She stays with them a great deal, and they call her Clare, and I believe they are very fond of her.’  Molly tried to speak of her future stepmother in the most favourable manner she knew how.

’I think I’ve heard of her.  Then she is not very young?  That’s as it should be.  A widow too.  Has she any family?’

‘One girl, I believe.  But I know so little about her!’

Molly was very near crying again.

’Never mind, my dear.  That will all come in good time.  Roger, you’ve hardly eaten anything; where are you going?’

’To fetch my dredging-net.  It’s full of things I don’t want to lose.  Besides, I never eat much, as a general thing.’  The truth was partly told, not all.  He thought he had better leave the other two alone.  His mother had such sweet power of sympathy, that she would draw the sting out of the girl’s heart, when she had her alone.  As soon as he was gone, Molly lifted up her poor swelled eyes, and, looking at Mrs Hamley, she said,—­’He was so good to me.  I mean to try and remember all he said.’

’I’m glad to hear it, love; very glad.  From what he told me, I was afraid he had been giving you a little lecture.  He has a good heart, but he isn’t so tender in his manner as Osborne.  Roger is a little rough sometimes.’