He put up at a little inn, and called at Clifford Hall.
He found Colonel Clifford at home, and was received stiffly, but graciously. He gave Colonel Clifford to understand that he had left business.
"All the better," said Colonel Clifford, sharply.
"And taken to farming."
"Ugh!" said the other, with his favorite snort.
At this moment, who should walk into the room but Walter Clifford.
Bartley started and stared. Walter started and stared.
"Mr. Bolton," said Bartley, scarcely above a whisper.
But Colonel Clifford heard it, and said, brusquely: "Bolton! No. Why, this is Walter Clifford, my son, and my man of business.—Walter, this is Mr. Bartley."
"Proud to make your acquaintance, sir," said the astute Bartley, ignoring the past.