“A most praiseworthy ambition,” I remarked, with a sarcasm which I strove vainly to keep to myself. “I am sure I wish you every success.”
“That is very good of you,” he answered, slowly. “Wishes count for a good deal sometimes. I am very thankful for yours.”
“Wishes cost little,” I answered, coldly, “and I am afraid that mine are practically valueless. Have you been away from England long?”
“For many years,” he answered, after a slight hesitation.
“It seems odd,” I remarked, “that your first visit should be at the house of a comparative stranger. Have you no relations or old friends to welcome you back?”
A slight and peculiar smile hovered upon his lips.
“I have some old friends,” he said, quietly; “I do not know whether they will welcome me home again. Soon I shall know. I am not far away from them.”
“Do they know of your return?” I asked.
“Some of them. One of them I should say,” he answered. “The one about whom I care does not know.”
“You are going to surprise him?” I remarked.