"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.

"The fact that, as it happens, the wedding can't be put through
without your help."

Mr. Newell's thin lips formed a noiseless whistle. "They've got to
have my consent, have they? Well, is he a good young man?"