Mr. Bates driving toward them in his gig pulled up, and invited Dale to do so also.
"How are you, William?" And he took off his hat to Mrs. Dale. "Your servant, madam. Turn head about, William, and come into my place and take a bit of refreshment."
"No, thank you, Mr. Bates. Not to-day. Some other time."
"No time like the present. A cup of tea, Mrs. Dale. I don't care to see those I count as friends pass my place without stopping."
"I know you mean what you say," said Dale cordially; "but we're for Old Manninglea—business appointment."
"Then I mustn't hinder you. But look in on your way back. Your servant, madam."
Mavis liked the fresh clean complexion and the silvery white hair of Mr. Bates, and there was something very pleasing in his old-fashioned mode of address, his courteous way of saluting her, and his gentle friendly smile as he spoke to her husband.
"Will," she said, as they drove on, "I believe Mr. Bates is really fond of you."
Dale gave a snort; and then after a long pause spoke with strong emphasis.
"I'll tell you, Mavis, what Mr. Bates is. He's a good man, every bit and crumb of him. There's no one between the downs and the sea that I feel the same respect for that I do for that old gentleman."