ained at all the hotels, purely Sicilian
dishes were served. First came a species of marine soup, that consisted
of tiny star-fish and cuttle-fish stewed till they were very tender,
then smothered in white sauce. Slices of tunny fish followed, almost as
substantial as beefsteak, then some goats flesh, that closely resembled
mutton, and with it a vegetable called fennel, which is rather like
celery with a dash of aniseed about it. The salad, chiefly of endive,
was smothered in Lucca oil and Tarragon vinegar, and there was an entree
that seemed made mostly of butter and cheese.

Dulcie, daunted by nothing, ate each new dish and said she enjoyed it,
though Lilias and Cousin Clare could not be induced even to taste the
unaccustomed food, and lunched on omelettes which were ordered specially
for their benefit. Mr. Stacey and Everard, however, were hearty converts
to Sicilian cookery, and declared they would like some of the courses
introduced at the Chase when they returned to England.

As good luck would have it Dulcie was just stepping out of the
restaurant when she heard a familiar, squeaking voice, and on the other
side of the road saw a Sicilian Punch and Judy show.

Naturally she demanded to stop and witness the representation. Mr.
Punchinello, though his speeches were in Italian, went through the same
series of wicked deeds as in England, and little dog Toby, with a frill
round his neck, assisted in the performance. Dulcie was delighted, and
was persuaded to get into the waiting motor only by bribes of seeing
even more interesting sights.

The lovely public gardens, the shops, the market, the university where
Ernesto, Vittore, and Douglas were studying, the museum, and various
beautiful spots in the neighborhood of the city were all visited during
the Ingletons' brief stay at Palermo, and they celebrated the last
evening by a visit to the theater, where, if they could not understand
the words of the play, the dramatic foreign acting spoke for itself.

"Has my little English signorina enjoyed her trip?" asked Signor Trapani
kindly, as Dulcie, sitting by his side in the car, waved an enthusiastic
good-by to Palermo.

"Enjoyed it! _Ra_ther? It's the loveliest place on earth, and beats
London hollow in my opinion. But I _do_ love everything Sicilian _so_
much! Thanks just immensely for giving me such a perfectly delicious
time!" declared Dulcie, screwing her neck round to catch a last glimpse
of Ernesto, Vittore, an