"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