h masts and funnel,
lying off the pier-head; and down on the sand she may see the young
master and mistress of that yacht: a modest, attractive pair, possessors
of one of the world's great fortunes, yet not nearly so elaborately
dressed, nor so insistent upon their "position," as the
Jumpkinson-Joneses. By raising the brim of her hat a trifle Mrs. H.S.
Jumpkinson-Jones may see, sweeping in glorious circles above the yacht,
the hydroplane which, when it left the edge of the beach a few minutes
since, blew back with its propeller a stinging storm of sand, and caused
skirts to snap like flags in a hundred-mile-an-hour hurricane; and in
that hydroplane she knows there is another multimillionaire.

Near by, sitting disconsolately upon the sand, are the one-horse
Middle-Western millionaire with his wife and daughter--the three who
were ousted from her seats by the beach-chair man. Mrs. H.S.
Jumpkinson-Jones, like every one who has spent a season, let alone half
a dozen seasons, at Palm Beach, immediately recognizes the type.

Father is the leading merchant of his town; mother the social arbiter;
daughter the regnant belle. Father definitely didn't wish to come here,
nor was mother anxious to, but daughter made them. Often she has read
the lists of prominent arrivals at Palm Beach and seen alluring pictures
of them taken on the sand. She has dreamed of the place, and in her
dreams has seemed to hear the call of Destiny. Who knows? may it not be
at Palm Beach that she will meet _him_?--the beautiful and wealthy
scion of a noble house who (so the fortune teller at the Elks' Club
bazaar told her) will rescue her from the narrow life at home, and
transport her, as his bride, into a world of wonder and delight, and
footmen in knee-breeches. Daughter insisted on Palm Beach. So mother got
a lot of pretty clothes for daughter, and father purchased several yards
of green and yellow railroad tickets, and off they went. They arrived at
Palm Beach. They walked the miles of green carpeted corridor. They were
dazed--as every one must be who sees them for the first time--at the
stunning size of the hotels. They looked upon the endless promenade of
other visitors. They went to the beach at bathing hour, to the cocoanut
grove at the time for tea and dancing, in wheel chairs through the
jungle trail and _Reve d'Ete_, to the waiters' cake walk in the
Poinciana dining room, to the concert at the Breakers, to the palm room,
and to the sea by moon