ence, tells me
that you have had some little--er--difference----" began Mr. Cone,
affably.

"I had a hellish night!" Mr. Penrose interrupted, savagely. "I hope
never to put in such another."

"I join you in that," replied Miss Spenceley, calmly. "I've never heard
any one snore so horribly--I'd know your snore among a thousand."

"Never mind--we can adjust this matter amicably, I will change your room
to-day, Miss Spenceley," Mr. Cone interposed, hastily. "It hasn't
_quite_ the view, but the furnishings are more luxurious."

"But I don't want to change," Miss Spenceley coolly replied. "It suits
me perfectly."

"I came for quiet and I can't stand that hammering," declared Mr.
Penrose, glaring at her.

"So did I--my nerves--and your snoring bothers me. But perhaps," with
aggravating sweetness, "I can break you of the habit."

"I wouldn't lose another night's sleep for a thousand dollars!"

"It will be cheaper to change your room, for I don't mean to change
_mine_."

The millionaire turned to the proprietor. "Either this person goes or I
do--that's my ultimatum!"

"I will not be bullied in any such fashion, and I can't very well be
put out forcibly, can I?" and Miss Spenceley smiled at both of them. Mr.
Cone looked from one to the other, helplessly.

"Then," Mr. Penrose retorted, "I shall leave _immediately!_ Mr. Cone,"
dramatically, "the room I have occupied for twenty-eight summers is at
your disposal." His voice rose in a crescendo movement so that even in
the furthermost corner of the dining room they heard it: "I have a peach
orchard down in Delaware, and I shall go there, where I can snore as
much as I damn please; and don't you forget it!"

Mr. Cone, his mouth open and hands hanging, looked after him as he
stamped away, too astonished to protest.

CHAPTER II

"THE HAPPY FAMILY"

The guests of the Colonial Hotel arose briskly each morning to nothing.
After a night of refreshing and untroubled sleep they dressed and
hurried to breakfast after the manner of travellers making close
connections. Then each repaired to his favourite chair placed in the
same spot on the wide veranda to wait for luncheon. The more energetic
sometimes took a wheel-chair for an hour and were pushed on the
Boardwalk or attended an auction sale of antiques and curios, but mostly
their lives were as placid and as eventful as those of the inmates of an
institution.

The greater number of the male guests of The Colonial