"But I do not see that you quarrelled, John, after all."
"It was far nearer to words than I ever dreamed of going."
Agnes felt very sorrowful, but at last she looked up.
"I wonder what He would have us do?" pointing to the text.
John followed her glance for a moment, then he left the room abruptly, and she heard his footsteps going three at a time up the stairs.
"Hugh," he said, entering their joint room, and closing the door, "I feel more sorry than words can say about this."
His brother was sullenly preparing to go out, and did not turn round. "Then you shouldn't speak to a fellow so," he muttered.
"Hugh," answered John, seriously, "I dare not unsay what I said; that part of it was right. But I was wrong to have exposed your school affairs before anyone else. Can't you let us be friends again on Christmas-day? I would not have had it happen for any money, and I am sorry I have vexed you."
John's tone was so earnest, and Hugh's anger had cooled down, so that he felt he could not do less than say, uncomfortably, "Oh, well, there is no need to make such a fuss; I'm sure I don't want to bother about it, so there, we'll say no more."
John sat on the edge of the bed, looking dejected, and Hugh finished his preparations, and turned to the door. "Why do you mind so much?" he asked suddenly, coming back again; for, after all, he was a kind-hearted boy, and did not like to see his brother annoyed.