There was a long silence before Vanulm spoke again. "All right, Dick," he said slowly; "I see the force of what you say, and, after all, every man _has_ got to live his own life in his own way. I'll drop the subject, seeing that I look at it one way and you another; I've had my say, and you've been very considerate to take my interfering the way you have; and now, if you'll bear with me, there's just one other thing I want to say, Dick, before I get through. And that's on the point you spoke of about the number of things you were doing; if you were a single man, I think it might make a difference, but you're not. You've married a girl who seems to me to be one of the most charming young women I've ever met. Are you treating her quite right, Dick? You're very seldom seen with her in public; she's young, and exceedingly attractive; she's bound to receive a lot of attention, and it's common gossip the way this young Ogden's seen around with her. You know what he is, Dick, and I ask you again, fully aware of the liberty I'm taking, 'Is it fair to her?'" Gordon turned to him with a little mocking smile. "While you're on the subject," he said, with irony, "is there anything else? My character, my religion, what I eat for breakfast? Don't stop with my family affairs, I beg. Is there anything else?" Vanulm flushed scarlet. "I ask your pardon, Dick," he said stiffly, and, after a moment's hesitation, he added quietly: "No, there's nothing else." With the gentlest shake of the reins he signaled the little black that they were ready for the journey home; for five, ten, twenty minutes they sped along in silence; then Gordon turned to his friend. "Herman, old man," he cried, "forgive me. You're the best fellow in the world, and I had no business to lose my temper. Only--it _is_ true--every man has got to lead his own life, and use his own judgment, such as it is. That's really what makes life, I suppose. And a man's family affairs, pleasant or unpleasant, are his own property. But I had no business to speak as I did. Forgive me, Herman." In silence Vanulm extended his hand. "Nothing to forgive, Dick," he said half sadly; "I'm a meddling old fool, and I'll never bring up the subject again. It's a queer world, anyway, and which one of us has the right to judge the other?" Gordon sat silent and thoughtful. Once, twice, he made as if to speak; then, with a smile that had no mirth in it, he shrugged his shoulders, as though dismissing something from his mind. "Yes," he said, "you're right, Herman. It's a queer old world." CHAPTER XIII IN THE TRACK OF THE STORM