"But you must so far conform to convention as to have a best man."
"Must I? Very well, now let me think. Yes, Winfield will do. He's about the best chap I know."
He had barely mentioned his name, however, when he would gladly have recalled it. Like lightning the fact flashed into his mind that on the night of the wager it was Winfield who had suggested the name of Olive Castlemaine.
"That's all right," said Mr. Castlemaine. "He's just the fellow. So you will invite no one else?"
"I would rather not invite him," said Leicester.
"But you must, Leicester. I must positively insist on that. For my own part, I think I should have liked you to have invited some of your chief supporters in your constituency."
"No, no," said Leicester, "don't ask me; really, I would rather not."
And so, although Leicester did not like the thought of it, Winfield was asked to act as best man, and arrangements had been made for the two to meet that morning at a station three miles from The Beeches, which happened to be on the line which the young journalist most frequently used.
At the time agreed upon Leicester was there, and found the carriage which he had engaged. Here, too, he found Winfield, and the two drove to the church where the wedding was to take place.
"You must be a happy man," remarked Winfield.