husband. But it would never happen to Gregory and me. We shall have to
make money and cut a dash in order to attract attention, and by-and-by,
if we are persistent and clever enough, we may be recognized as
somebodies, provided there is something original or interesting about
us. There! I have told you my secret and shocked you into the bargain. I
really must be going. But I'll tell you another secret first: It'll be a
pleasure to me to see you, if I may, because you look at things
differently and haven't a social bee. I wish I were like that--really
like it. But then, as Gregory would say, I shouldn't be myself, and not
to be one's self is worse than anything else after all, isn't it? You
and your husband must come and dine with us soon."

After Mrs. Williams had gone, Selma fell into a brown study. She had
listened to sentiments of which she thoroughly disapproved, and which
were at variance with all her theories and conceptions. What her
friendly, frivolous visitor had told her with engaging frankness
offended her conscience and patriotism. She did not choose to admit the
existence of these class-distinctions, and she knew that even if they
did exist, they could not possibly concern Wilbur and herself. Even Mrs.
Williams had appreciated that Wilbur and her literary superiority put
them above and beyond the application of any snobbish, artificial,
social measuring-tape. And yet Selma's brow was clouded. Her thought
reverted to the row of stately houses on either side of Fifth Avenue,
into none of which she had the right of free access, in spite of the
fact that she was leading her life attractively and finely, without
regard to society. She thought instinctively of Sodom and Gomorrah, and
she saw righteously with her mind's eye for a moment an angel with a
flaming sword consigning to destruction these offending mansions and
their owners as symbols of mammon and contraband to God.