“So you haven’t lost your appetite!” his mother commented.

Cyril grinned.  “Did you expect me to, mother?”

“Let me see,” said Samuel, as if vaguely recalling an unimportant fact.  “It’s to-day you begin to go to school, isn’t it?”

“I wish father wouldn’t be such a chump!” Cyril reflected.  And, considering that this commencement of school (real school, not a girls’ school, as once) had been the chief topic in the house for days, weeks; considering that it now occupied and filled all hearts, Cyril’s reflection was excusable.

“Now, there’s one thing you must always remember, my boy,” said Mr. Povey.  “Promptness.  Never be late either in going to school or in coming home.  And in order that you may have no excuse”—­Mr. Povey pressed on the word ‘excuse’ as though condemning Cyril in advance—­“here’s something for you!” He said the last words quickly, with a sort of modest shame.

It was a silver watch and chain.

Cyril was staggered.  So also was Constance, for Mr. Povey could keep his own counsel.  At long intervals he would prove, thus, that he was a mighty soul, capable of sublime deeds.  The watch was the unique flowering of Mr. Povey’s profound but harsh affection.  It lay on the table like a miracle.  This day was a great day, a supremely exciting day in Cyril’s history, and not less so in the history of his parents.

The watch killed its owner’s appetite dead.

Routine was ignored that morning.  Father did not go back into the shop.  At length the moment came when father put on his hat and overcoat to take Cyril, and Cyril’s watch and satchel, to the Endowed School, which had quarters in the Wedgwood Institution close by.  A solemn departure, and Cyril could not pretend by his demeanour that it was not!  Constance desired to kiss him, but refrained.  He would not have liked it.  She watched them from the window.  Cyril was nearly as tall as his father; that is to say, not nearly as tall, but creeping up his father’s shoulder.  She felt that the eyes of the town must be on the pair.  She was very happy, and nervous.

At dinner-time a triumph seemed probable, and at tea-time, when Cyril came home under a mortar-board hat and with a satchel full of new books and a head full of new ideas, the triumph was actually and definitely achieved.  He had been put into the third form, and he announced that he should soon be at the top of it.  He was enchanted with the life of school; he liked the other boys, and it appeared that the other boys liked him.  The fact was that, with a new silver watch and a packet of sweets, he had begun his new career in the most advantageous circumstances.  Moreover, he possessed qualities which ensure success at school.  He was big, and easy, with a captivating smile and a marked aptitude to learn those things which boys insist on teaching to their new comrades.  He had muscle, a brave demeanour, and no conceit.