While we were hove-to, the ‘Porcupine’ passed us. In all probability it would now get to Aden ahead of us; and herein lay a development of the history of Mrs. Falchion. I was standing beside Belle Treherne as the ship came within hail of us and signalled to see what was the matter. Mrs. Falchion was not far from us. She was looking intently at the vessel through marine-glasses, and she did not put them down until it had passed. Then she turned away with an abstracted light in her eyes and a wintry smile; and the look and the smile continued when she sat down in her deck-chair and leaned her cheek meditatively on the marine-glass. But I saw now that something was added to the expression of her face--a suggestion of brooding or wonder. Belle Treherne, noticing the direction of my glances, said: “Have you known Mrs. Falchion long?” “No, not long,” I replied. “Only since she came on board.” “She is very clever, I believe.” I felt my face flushing, though, reasonably, there was no occasion for it, and I said: “Yes, she is one of the ablest women I have ever met.” “She is beautiful, too--very beautiful.” This very frankly. “Have you talked with her?” asked I. “Yes, a little this morning, for the first time. She did not speak much, however.” Here Miss Treherne paused, and then added meditatively: “Do you know, she impressed me as having singular frankness and singular reserve as well? I think I admired it. There is no feeling in her speech, and yet it has great candour. I never before met any one like her. She does not wear her heart upon her sleeve, I imagine.” A moment of irony came over me; that desire to say what one really does not believe (a feminine trait), and I replied: “Are both those articles necessary to any one? A sleeve?--well, one must be clothed. But a heart?--a cumbrous thing, as I take it.” Belle Treherne turned, and looked me steadily in the eyes for an instant, as if she had suddenly awakened from abstraction, and slowly said, while she drew back slightly: “Dr. Marmion, I am only a girl, I know, and inexperienced, but I hoped most people of education and knowledge of life were free from that kind of cynicism to be read of in books.” Then something in her thoughts seemed to chill her words and manner, and her father coming up a moment after, she took his arm, and walked away with a not very cordial bow to me. The fact is, with a woman’s quick intuition, she had read in my tone something suggestive of my recent experience with Mrs. Falchion. Her fine womanliness awoke; the purity of her thoughts, rose in opposition to my flippancy and to me; and I knew that I had raised a prejudice not easy to destroy. This was on a Friday afternoon.