If Homer Passford was not a rich man in the sense that his brother was, he was still a wealthy man, and lived in a style as elegant as that of any nabob in the South. More than this, and of vastly more consequence, he was a good and true man. He was a member of his church, and his brother believed that he was a genuine and true religious man. The same principles of justice, humanity, and fairness had been born into both of the brothers, and inherited from the same father. This was the brother whom he from the North was about to visit on the most solemn and momentous questions which could unite or separate the only two sons of the same father. Though Horatio had reasoned himself into the belief that Homer was as strongly a Union man as he was himself, he had argued without any adequate premises; and now, when he was almost on the threshold of his door, he did not feel sure of the position of his brother, though his hope was very strong. It was with no little trepidation on this account that he rang the bell at the front door of Glenfield. A few minutes or an hour or two would settle the momentous question, and decide whether or not all the family, as well as Florry, would take passage in the Bellevite for a more Northern clime. "De Lo'd!" exclaimed the venerable colored man that came to the door. "De hull family done be wery glad to see you, Massa 'Ratio." "I hope you are very well, Pedro," replied Captain Passford, as he gave his hand to the old servant. "Here is Christy." "De Lo'd bless Massa Christy!" And he shook hands with the son as he had with the father. "Is your master at home, Pedro?" asked the visitor, in haste to see his brother. "Yes, sar; all de folks to home; jes' gwine to lunch. I spects dey all wery glad to see Massa 'Ratio and Massa Christy. Walk in, sar; took a seat in de parlor; and I done reckon we call Massa Homer and de rest ob de folks afore you gits to sleep in yer char, thar," said Pedro, as he scurried out of the room where he had shown the visitors. It was Florry who caught the first sound of the visitors who had arrived, and she rushed into the drawing-room before the others could be called from up-stairs. She bounded into the room like a fawn, with her eyes swimming with tears, and threw herself into her father's arms. She could not speak a word, and the captain was as dumb as she was. For a moment she remained folded in his arms, and then she gently disengaged herself, to render the same wealth of affection in its manifestation to her brother, who was standing by her father when she darted into the room. But Christy was a boy, and not as demonstrative as his father, though he discharged the duties of the affecting occasion with becoming fidelity, so that the loving girl was sure that his heart was where it had always been.