That evening the Murchisons’ doorbell rang twice.  The first time it was to admit the Rev. Hugh Finlay, who had come to return Sordello, which he had borrowed from Advena, and to find out whether she thought with him about the interpretation of certain passages, and if not—­there was always the possibility—­wherein their divergence lay.  The second time the door opened to Dr Drummond and Mr Cruickshank; and the electric light had to be turned on in the drawing-room, since the library was already occupied by Mr Finlay and Advena, Mr and Mrs Murchison never having got over their early habit of sitting in the dining-room after tea.  Even then Mrs Murchison had to put away her workbasket, and John Murchison to knock the ashes out of his pipe, looking at one another with surprised inquiry when Eliza informed them of their visitors.  Luckily, Mr Lorne was also in, and Eliza was sent to tell him, and Mr Lorne came down the stairs two at a time to join the party in the drawing-room, which was presently supplied by Eliza with a dignified service of cake and wine.  The hall divided that room from the library, and both doors were shut.  We cannot hesitate about which to open; we have only, indeed, to follow the recognized tradition of Elgin, which would never have entered the library.  No vivid conclusion should be drawn, no serious situation may even be indicated.  It would simply have been considered, in Elgin, stupid to go into the library.

“It isn’t a case for the High Commissioner for Canada,” Mr Cruickshank was saying.  “It’s a case for direct representation of the interests concerned, and their view of the effect upon trade.  That’s the only voice to speak with if you want to get anything done.  Conviction carries conviction.  The High Commissioner is a very useful fellow to live in London and look after the ornamental, the sentimental, and immigration—­nobody could do it better than Selkirk.  And in England, of course, they like that kind of agency.  It’s the good old dignified way; but it won’t do for everything.  You don’t find our friend Morgan operating through the American equivalent of a High Commissioner.”

“No, you don’t,” said John Murchison.

“He goes over there as a principal, and the British Government, if he wants to deal with it, is only another principal.  That’s the way our deputation will go.  We’re practically all shippers, though of course the matter of tenders will come later.  There is big business for them here, national business, and we propose to show it.  The subsidy we want will come back to the country four times over in two years.  Freights from Boston alone—­”

“It’s the patriotic, imperial argument you’ll have to press, I doubt,” said John Murchison.  “They’re not business people over there—­the men in office are not.  How should they be?  The system draws them from the wrong class.  They’re gentlemen—­noblemen, maybe—­first, and they’ve no practical education.  There’s only one way of getting