"Of course, I refused," Dale replied. "Why, they've only known each other a few days. But, putting that aside, I'm afraid I dislike and distrust the man. I feel he's one of the men who has led my son into bad ways."
He bent over the table and bowed his head between his hands. Again there was a long silence.
"You have no objection to me as a son-in-law, Mr. Dale?"
"Surely that question needs no answer—but, please say no more now. Leave me, Mr. James."
Quietly closing the door behind him Jim walked out of the house into the garden. Taking no notice of Mr. Despard, he drew Marjorie aside and told her what had happened.
"I am driving your father—and Mr. Despard—to Newton Abbot in about an hour's time. When I come back we'll have a little run in the car—tea together at Moretonhampstead, perhaps. Or, better still, we'll go over to Hey Tor and have a picnic on our own. Cheer up, darling, all will be well, I know."
Bending down, he kissed her in full view of Robert Despard. The latter scrunched the Western Morning News up between his hands with an oath.
Waving a farewell to Marjorie, Jim swung through the gate and hurried across the moorlands towards Post Bridge Hall.
An hour later he was driving both John Dale and Mr. Robert Despard to Newton Abbot junction. And he could not help feeling some satisfaction when the train carried the latter gentleman away from Devonshire back to London.
CHAPTER X.