Vane felt at home with both of them. He had met people of their kind
before, and, allowing for certain idiosyncrasies, considered them the
salt of the Dominion. Nairn had done good service to his adopted country,
developing her industries--with some profit to himself, for he was of
Scottish extraction; but, while close at a bargain, he could be generous
afterward. In the beginning, he had fought sternly for his own hand, and
it was supposed that Mrs. Nairn had helped him, not only by sound advice,
but by such practical economies as the making of his working clothes.
Those he wore on the evening in question did not fit him well, though
they were no longer the work of her capable fingers. When his guests were
seated he laid two cigar boxes on the table.

"Those," he said, pointing to one of them, "are mine. I think ye had
better try the others; they're for visitors."

Vane had already noticed the aroma of the cigar that was smoldering on a
tray and he decided that Nairn was right; so he dipped his hand into the
second box, which he passed to Carroll.

"Now," declared Nairn, "we can talk comfortably. Clara will listen.
Afterwards, it's possible she will favor me with her opinion."

Mrs. Nairn smiled at them encouragingly, and her husband proceeded.

"One or two of my colleagues were no pleased at ye for putting off
the meeting."

"The sloop was small, and it was blowing rather hard," Vane explained.