'I don't understand why you haven't opened that real estate business you used to be so keen on, Henry!

'I can't. The time isn't quite right. The real estate market's not looking that promising at the mornent.'

'You've been saying that now for nearly a year; I wonder if it will ever be promising enough for you: 'Sure it will; truth is, I need a little more capital to help myself set up. Now if you would loan me some of your money, I could get cracking tomorrow.'

'That's impossible, Henry. You know the terms of Richard's will; my allowance was stopped the day we were married, and now I have only the capital left.'

'A little of that would help me on my way, and don't forget that precious boy of yours has well over twenty million in the family trust.'

'You seem to know a lot about William's trust,' said Anne suspiciously.

'Oh, come on, Anne, give me a chance to be your husband. Don't make me feel like a guest in my own home.'

'What's happened to your money, Henry? You always led me to believe that you had enough to start your own business.'

'You've always known I was not in Richard's class financially, and there was a time, Anne, when you claimed it didn't matter. I'd marry you Henry, if you were penniless,' he mocked.

Anne burst into tears, and Henry tried to console her. She spent the rest of the evening in his arms talking the problem over. Anne managed to convince herself she was beingunwifely and ungenerous. She had more money than she could possibly need: couldn't she trust a little of it to the to whom she was so willing to entrust the rest of her life? Acting upon these thoughts, she agreed to let Henry have one hundred thousand dollars to set up his own real estate firrn in Boston. Within a month Henry had found a smart new office in a fashionable part of town, appointed staff, and started work. Soon he was mixing with all the city politicians and real estate men of Boston. They talked of the boom in farm land, and they flattered Henry. Anne didn't care very much for them as social company, but Henry was happy and appeared to be successful at his work.

William, now fourteen, was in this third year at St. Paulls, sixth in his class overall and first in mathematics. He had also become a rising figure in the Debating Society. He wrote to his mother once a week, reporting his progress, always addressing his letters to Mrs. Richard Kane, refusing to acknowledge that Henry Osborne even existed. Anne wasn't sure whether she should talk to him about it, and each Monday she would carefully extract William's letter from the box to be certain that Henry never saw the envelope. She continued to hope, that in time William would come around to liking Henry, but it became clear that that hope was unrealistic when, in one particular letter to his mother, he sought her permission to stay with his friend, Matthew Lester, for the summer holidays. The request came as a painful blow to Anne, but she took the easy way out and fell in with William's plans, which Henry also seemed to favour.

William hated Henry Osborne and nursed the hatred passionately, not sure what he could actually do about it. He was relieved that Henry never visited him at school; he could not have tolerated the other boys seeing his mother with that man. It was bad enough that he had to live with him in Boston.

For the first time since his mother's marriage, William was anxious for the holidays to come.

The Lesters' Packard chauffeured William and Matthew noiselessly to the summer camp in Vermont. On the journey, Matthew casually asked William what he intended to do when the time came for him to leave St. Paul's.

'When I leave I will be top of the class, Class President, and have won the Hamilton Memorial Mathematics Scholarship to Harvard,' replied William without hesitation.

'Why is all that so important?' asked Matthew innocently.

'My father did all three.'

'When you've finished beating your father, I win introduce you to mine.'

William smiled.

The two boys had an energetic and enjoyable four weeks in Vermont playing every game from chess to American football. When the month came to an end they travelled to New York to spend the last part of the holiday with the Lester family. They were greeted at the door by a butler who addressed Matthew as sir and a twelve - year - old girl covered in freckles who called him Fatty. It made William laugh because I - Lis friend was so thin and it was she who was fat. The little girl smiled and revealed teeth almost totally hidden behind braces.

'You would never believe Susan was my sister, would you?' asked Matthew disdainfully.

'No, I suppose not,' said William, smiling at Susan. 'She's so much better looking than you.'