her way to hunt for houses in the outlying district.
The roar and bustle of the city, which thrilled yet dazed her, seemed
here softened by the rows of tall, imposing residences in brown stone.
Along the sunny sidewalks passed with jaunty tread an ever-hurrying
procession of stylishly clad men and women; and along the roadbed sped
an array of private carriages conducted by coachmen in livery. It was a
brilliant day, and New Yorkers were making the most of it.

Selma had never seen such a sight before. Benham faded into
insignificance in comparison. She was excited, and she gazed eagerly at
the spectacle. Yet her look, though absorbed, was stern. This sort of
thing was unlike anything American within her personal experience. This
avenue of grand houses and this procession of fine individuals and fine
vehicles made her think of that small section of Benham into which she
had never been invited, and the thought affected her disagreeably.

"Who are the people who live in these houses?" she asked, presently.

Littleton had already told her that it was the most fashionable street
in the city.

"Oh, the rich and prosperous."

"Those who gamble in stocks, I suppose." Selma wished to be assured that
this was so.

"Some of them," said Littleton, with a laugh. "They belong to people who
have made money in various ways or have inherited it--our well-to-do
class, among them the first families in New York, and many of them our
best citizens."

"Are they friends of yours?"

Littleton laughed again. "A few--not many. Society here is divided into
sets, and they are not in my set. I prefer mine, and fortunately, for I
can't afford to belong to theirs."

"Oh!"

The frigidity and dryness of the exclamation Littleton ascribed to
Selma's intuitive enmity to the vanities of life.

"You mustn't pass judgment on them too hastily," he said. "New York is a
wonderful place, and it's likely to shock you before you learn to
appreciate what is interesting and fine here. I will tell you a secret,
Selma. Every one likes to make money. Even clergymen feel it their duty
to accept a call from the congregation which offers the best salary, and
probing men of science do not hesitate to reap the harvest from a
wonderful invention. Yet it is the fashion with most of the people in
this country who possess little to prate about the wickedness of
money-getters and to think evil of the rich. That proceeds chiefly from
envy, and it is sheer cant. Th