a pause, while Montague groped for words. "Oliver," he
exclaimed, "I can't believe you! How could you think that we could pay
such a price?"

"I didn't think it," said Oliver; "I told you I expected to pay it
myself."

"But how could we let you pay it for us?" cried the other. "Can you
fancy that _I_ will ever earn enough to pay such a price?"

"Of course you will," said Oliver. "Don't be foolish, Allan--you'll
find it's easy enough to make money in New York. Leave it to me, and
wait awhile."

But the other was not to be put off. He sat down on the embroidered
silk bedspread, and demanded abruptly, "What do you expect my income to
be a year?"

"I'm sure I don't know," laughed Oliver; "nobody takes the time to add
up his income. You'll make what you need, and something over for good
measure. This one thing you'll know for certain--the more you spend,
the more you'll be able to make."

And then, seeing that the sober look was not to be expelled from his
brother's face, Oliver seated himself and crossed his legs, and
proceeded to set forth the paradoxical philosophy of extravagance. His
brother had come into a city of millionaires. There was a certain group
of people--"the right set," was Oliver's term for them--and among them
he would find that money was as free as air. So far as his career was
concerned, he would find that there was nothing in all New York so
costly as economy. If he did not live like a gentleman, he would find
himself excluded from the circle of the elect--and how he would manage
to exist then was a problem too difficult for his brother to face.

And so, as quickly as he could, he was to bring himself to a state of
mind where things did not surprise him; where he did what others did
and paid what others paid, and did it serenely, as if he had done it
all his life. He would soon find his place; meantime all he had to do
was to put himself into his brother's charge. "You'll find in time that
I have the strings in my hands," the latter added. "Just take life
easy, and let me introduce you to the right people."

All of which sounded very attractive. "But are you sure," asked
Montague, "that you understand what I'm here for? I don't want to get
into the Four Hundred, you know--I want to practise law."

"In the first place," replied Oliver, "don't talk about the Four
Hundred--it's vulgar and silly; there's no such thing. In the next
place, you're going to live in New York, and you want to know the