lian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad
it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo
myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage
the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together."

He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with
his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely:

"Where do you go?"

"Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised.

"Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is
big. To what part do you journey?"

Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their
destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as
sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an
armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she
had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to
satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge
concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said:

"Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?"

"What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't
remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course."

"That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer.
"And then?"

"And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle.

"Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not
a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style,
by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the
whole programme mapped out in his head."

"Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously.

"No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written
down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By
and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and
wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it
easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry."

"That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying
the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we
say?"

"Eu-rope."

"And then?" mischievously.

"And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face,
Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter."

That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening,
growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant
companion, but for