Mr. Newell fumbled in his pocket, as though searching unavailingly for another morsel of bread; then he said: "From her point of view I shall not be the most important person at the ceremony."
Garnett smiled. "That is hardly a reason—" he began; but he was checked by the brevity of tone with which his companion replied: "I am not aware that I am called upon to give you my reasons."
"You are certainly not," the young man rejoined, "except in so far as you are willing to consider me as the messenger of your wife and daughter."
"Oh, I accept your credentials," said the other with his dry smile; "what I don't recognize is their right to send a message."
This reduced Garnett to silence, and after a moment's pause Mr. Newell drew his watch from his pocket.
"I am sorry to cut the conversation short, but my days are mapped out with a certain regularity, and this is the hour for my nap." He rose as he spoke and held out his hand with a glint of melancholy humour in his small clear eyes.
"You dismiss me, then? I am to take back a refusal?" the young man exclaimed.
"My dear sir, those ladies have got on very well without me for a number of years: I imagine they can put through this wedding without my help."
"You are mistaken, then; if it were not for that I shouldn't have undertaken this errand."
Mr. Newell paused as he was turning away. "Not for what?" he enquired.