"Oh no!" cried Mary, in surprise at the question. "Not a big home like that." Ralph's face became graver and sadder, for the farmhouse was not so large as the dwelling in which he had last seen his brother. It was clear that Long John could not have prospered in life; and this made Ralph more deeply regret having so long harboured anger against him. "Why had I the folly—the worse than folly—to keep up a quarrel with my own brother!" thought he. "Poor John has gone down in the world; I shall find him, perhaps, in distress. He has needed the help of a brother, and knew not where a letter would find me.—Has your father to work very hard?" he inquired. "Oh no," replied the child again, with a look of surprise. The mind of Ralph was relieved. "Then he is never very hungry?" said he. "Never hungry," answered Mary gravely. "It is a comfort that John has not known actual want," thought Ralph. "If I find him—as I expect—a poor man, I, with plenty of money in my pocket, shall be able to start him again in business." Ralph walked for some time in silence by his little companion, for his thoughts were full of the days of old. He remembered how he had romped and played with his brother when they had been children together; and he remembered, alas! How often their sports had ended in quarrelling and fighting. Both were proud, passionate boys; neither liked to give in; neither could bear to ask pardon of the brother whom he had wronged. The last sad quarrel between Ralph and his brother had followed on a thousand lesser ones, which had embittered the lives of both. "Ah, how often our poor mother urged us to love one another!" thought Ralph, now a worn elderly man, as he recalled the days of his youth. "How she spoke to us of the meekness and gentleness which should be shown by every Christian, and taught us that he that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city! What grief it would have given to our mother could she have known that, after her death, her sons would be more than twenty years without seeing or hearing tidings of each other! But now I will make amends for the past. Poor John shall find that for him and his family I have an open purse and an open heart. I hope that the quarrel which has kept us so long asunder may be the last which shall ever arise between me and my only brother."