"If it is not very unpleasant," said Wilson, with a faint laugh.
"I hope it will not be, I and sure it should not be," said John; and then, after a little while, he went on:
"Do you know, Walter, what has been my greatest drawback—what I most of all regret in my life's history, looking back upon it as I do now?"
Wilson did not know—could not guess, as he looked inquiringly into his host's countenance.
"I never knew my parents," said John, speaking slowly. "My mother died when I was an infant; my father, when I was a mere child. I was thus thrown upon the tender mercies of strangers; and that made me—but I won't speak about that. What I mean is—I have been thinking, Wilson, that you have a father and mother—brothers and sister too, all living in England."
"I suppose I have," said the other, rather haughtily, as it seemed to John, who went on, nevertheless.
"You have never written to them since you came back from Australia, I think?" John continued.
"No, nor for a long time before, if the truth were known."
"I am afraid you are not quite good friends with them?" said John.
"Possibly," said Walter, curtly; "I was not over and above pleased with what they did between us two and another, years ago," he added.