And I don't think it's right, Fred." "Upon my word, Jack," I said, "it's quite new for you to lecture me like this, and I don't like it.

What business is it of yours, I should like to know ?" "You are my friend," he said, quietly.
I drew my arm roughly from his.
"If you are mine," said I, "when I want your advice I'll ask it." He looked at me a moment doubtfully with his big eyes.

Then he said, "I was afraid of this; we never quarrelled before, Fred." "And we shouldn't quarrel now," I cried, "if you'd mind your own business." "It is my business," he persisted--doggedly, as I thought.
"What's your business ?" I demanded, with rising rage.
"To beg you not to be a fool," he replied, steadily.
My temper had already gone.

My self-control now deserted me as I stopped abruptly, and turned to him.
"Your business!" I exclaimed, bitterly.
"Yes, Fred, my business," he said, quietly, with a touch of sadness in his tone.
"Then let me tell you," I exclaimed, forgetting everything but my resentment, "I don't intend to be told my duty _by you of all people_!" It was enough.

He knew the meaning of those cowardly words.