Then Travers saw his opportunity had come. Ten years had passed since the old scandal. A new generation ruled; all was forgotten, or could be explained away. The trustful Count gave him a cheque for two hundred pounds, and left all his affairs in his hands. It must be noted here that Travers had many most endearing qualities. He could not bear to see animals suffer; he got on splendidly with children. He treated women as if he was their father, and men as if he was their redeemer. He took a favour as if he were bestowing a benediction. He had discovered the art of living upon other people with as much grace as if he belonged to the highest circles; none of the bourgeois arrogance of the parvenu or the middleman was perceptible; he took other people’s money, their property, and their affections, with equal grace and admirable cordiality. Grace peeped timidly out of her cottage door as he drove by. He whispered, ‘All right, little woman, I will be over directly.’ Then he drove the cart into the stable-yard, threw the reins to the groom, and strolled into the house through the back way, calling out as he passed the kitchen, ‘Just bring me a whisky and Seltzer in the grey-room; I shall want nothing more to-night.’ He lighted another cigar and threw himself full length on the white bear-skin which covered the canopied divan at the upper end of the room. The walls were hung with dull grey material, and decorated with strips and borders of faded Eastern embroidery. Guaschaci certainly knew how to do things well. There was not another man in England for whose decorations Travers felt he could have brought himself to take the responsibility. Certainly this place positively did even him credit; he felt no hesitation whatever in saying that it was his own. A middle-aged woman brought in the whisky, then courtesying gravely she asked if the master would speak to her little boy, he cried to see the master before he went to bed. ‘Bring him in, certainly, bring him in.’ ‘I put him to bed, sir; but I can’t get him to sleep; perhaps you will excuse me bringing him down in his little dressing-gown.’ ‘Certainly, I’ll put him to sleep in no time; don’t you trouble, Madame Kudner.’ The housekeeper went and fetched her little boy. As she carried him in he held out his arms to Travers, who lay back on the white divan laughing gaily. ‘Want a romp, little man?’ he cried. ‘All right, you shall have one. It is a shame. I haven’t seen him all day. Come and look in the cupboard, and see if we can find anything nice there.’ And the boy, who was a miracle of baby prettiness, with little brown curls dancing round his rosy cheeks, and bright eyes, was carried off in triumph to the old oak chest in which the stores were kept.