That was the beginning, and Sam, so far, was untried metal. Then, at the end of his first term, he came out top of his form at the July examinations, and, after that, Anne began to take things seriously. It was not pure ability which brought Sam to that proud eminence so much as the fact that he had been put in a form whose standard was really too low for him, and he had not worked over hard at lessons, being naturally preoccupied, in a first term, with finding his feet. Nor had that been too difficult. The Manchester Grammar School was a democratic institution. Schoolboys, anyhow, are not all snobs, and, in this instance, the presence amongst the paying boys of a leaven of Foundation Scholars, often from homes as poor as Sam’s, made acclimatization easy for him. But his feat impressed Anne, though all she said, when the lists came out with the name of “Branstone, S.” at the head of II. Alpha, was, “Of course!” as if any other place were impossible for a son of hers; and it decided her that Sam would “pay for” taking trouble. She proceeded to take trouble. Tom Branstone’s first real inkling of what was passing in Anne’s mind came to that good, easy man when he mentioned that his holidays were due in a fortnight. “You’ll take a holiday at home this year, my lad,” she informed him. “But why’s that, Anne?” he asked. “Blackpool’s in the same place as it was, and I get privilege passes on the line.” “Sam’s not in the same place, though,” she said. “He’s at the Grammar School. It’s a place where other boys wear decent clothes, and I’ll see that Sam shan’t fall behind them.” Tom took a holiday at home, varied with trips on the foot-plates of friendly engine-drivers, and fortified his soul with the consolations of tobacco. They were consolations which were not to be vouchsafed to him much longer. Tobacco cost money, and Anne had need of it. In spite of Travers’ generosity--or of as much of it as she could bring herself to accept--it was not an easy thing for Anne to keep her son at the Grammar School. It was desperately difficult, but Anne was Anne. The boy had his foot on the educational ladder, and she meant him to go to the top, rung by rung and scholarship by scholarship. When Sam took his honours degree at Oxford, Anne would relax; till then, she was a crusader. She sacrificed all to that ambition. Sam should have his chance, at no matter what cost to her, to Tom and to Madge. The boy must be as well dressed as his fellows, and he must play their games. Games are an essential part of English education, and Anne, with her constant eye to the main chance, recognized the importance of the playing-fields in cementing friendships with boys who might be useful to Sam in after life. But games are expensive, and Tom gave, up smoking when Sam was put into his class eleven. Anne gave up nothing. She had nothing more to give.