the famous Teatro Greco.

For a time they admired this fascinating ruin, which has the best
preserved stage of any Greek theatre now in existence. From the top of
the hill is one of the most magnificent views in Sicily, and here our
travellers sat in contemplative awe until Uncle John declared it was
time to return to their hotel for luncheon.

As they passed the portiere's desk Mr. Merrick paused to ask that
important official:

"Tell me, if you please, who is Signor Victor Valdi?"

"Valdi, signore?"

"Yes; the Duke di Valdi, I suppose you call him."

"I have never heard of him," replied the man.

"But every one seems to know him in Taormina."

"Is it so? We have but one duke near to us, and he--. But never mind. I
do not know this Valdi."

"A thin faced man, with black eyes. We met him on the steamer coming
from America."

The portiere dropped his eyes and turned toward his desk.

"Luncheon is served, signore," he remarked. "Also, here is a letter for
you, which arrived this morning."

Uncle John took the letter and walked on to rejoin the girls.

"It seems hard work to find out anything about this Valdi," he said.
"Either the folks here do not know him, or they won't acknowledge his
acquaintance. We may as well follow suit, and avoid him."

"I don't like his looks a bit," observed Beth. "He seems afraid and
defiant at the same time, and his temper is dreadful. It was only with
great difficulty he could bring himself to be polite to us."

"Oh, I always got along with him all right," said Patsy. "I'm sure
Signor Valdi isn't as bad as he appears. And he's a duke, too, girls--a
real duke!"

"So it seems," Uncle John rejoined; "yet there is something queer about
the fellow, I agree with Beth; I don't like him."

"Did Mr. Watson say when he would join us here?" enquired Louise, when
they were seated at the little round table.

"No; but here's a letter from him. I'd quite forgotten it."

He tore open the envelope and carefully read the enclosure.

"Too bad," said he. "We might have stayed a few days in Messina. Watson
says he and Kenneth have stopped at Girgenti--wherever that is--to study
the temples. Wonder if they're Solomon's? They won't get to Taormina
before Saturday."

"It won't matter," declared Patsy, "so long as they arrive then. And I'd
a good deal rather be here than in Messina, or any other place. Of
course we'll all be glad to see Kenneth."

"Mr. Watson wants us to be very careful