Starting life with a fairly large income, he had slowly but surely added to it, by effective, if unsensational, means. He had travelled in many countries, discarding the methods of the Yellow Press and its like, comparatively early in his career. It seemed to him that a man only reached permanent fame by being sincere himself and dealing sincerely with human problems. His sense of honour was so acute that it entered even into his business transactions. He had, of course, to make use of the weakness of others to a certain extent, to bend opportunity to his will on occasions; but he set about his work with a straightness not always, nor even often, found in Wall Street. Yet he had learned something from America, although it was said of him in that country that he missed more chances of making fortunes in a day than most men did in a lifetime. But his round million of money satisfied him after all. He had no near kith or kin to work for, and, patriotic as a man may be at heart, impersonal ties seldom stir his blood so deeply as do those of family. Evelyn was right, he had learned by now to look upon Farquharson almost as his son. He had recognized him from the first as being a man of power, and the incident of their meeting was dramatic. A big ecclesiastical procession was marching one Easter down the Rambla at Barcelona; Calvert, standing at a street corner, was watching it with immense disapprobation. The crowd surged onward, sweeping all before it like a mighty flood; a child, running suddenly across the path of the procession, slipped, and was trampled out of sight almost without a cry, lost in the religious exaltation that is so often blind to human claims. From the opposite side of the road a man dashed forward; so sudden was his movement that it arrested even the half-dazed crowd. The child was saved. He had borne it away before more than the first ranks of the spectators knew what had happened. The promptness, the surety of the action, appealed to a man to whom swift decisions came naturally. The rescuer was neat, but shabby. Calvert invited him to his hotel. Farquharson made no claim on Calvert’s pity or patronage. But, after a few judicious questions, the older man discovered that the stranger was of some social significance, and had been out of employment for about three weeks. The secretary for whom he had last worked in an office had absconded with the contents of the till. Calvert had important business letters to send to England that evening. He hired Farquharson’s services then and there for the night, and presently gave him a place in his office.