There has been many a strange thing happened since you rode out of our stable last, but I wish you would go to the Colonel and let him tell you all; however, I suppose I may tell you so much as this, that your sweetheart is not Mary Bartley at all; she is Mr.Hope's daughter." "What!" cried Walter, in utter amazement.
"There is no doubt about it, sir," said the old man, "and I believe it is all out about you and her, but that would not matter, for the Colonel he takes it quite different from what you might think.

He swears by her now.
I don't know really how that came about, sir, for I was not there, but when I was dressing the Colonel he said to me, 'John, she's the grandest girl in England, and an honor to her sex, and there is not a drop of Bartley's blood in her.'" "Oh, he has found that out," said Walter.

"Then I'll go to him like a bird, dear old fellow.

So that is what he wanted to tell me." "No," said John Baker, gravely.
"No," said Walter; "what then ?" "It's trouble." "Trouble," said Walter, puzzled.
"Ay, my poor young master," said Baker, tenderly--"sore trouble, such trouble as a father's heart won't let me, or any man break to you, while he lives to do it.

I know my master.