As we stood at the edge of one of the Tanks, Miss Treherne remarked with
astonishment that they were empty. I explained to her that Aden did not
have the benefits conferred even on the land of the seven fat and seven
lean kine--that there had not been rain there for years, and that when it
did come it was neither prolonged nor plentiful. Then came questions as
to how long ago the Tanks were built.

"Thirteen hundred years!" she exclaimed. "How strange to feel it so!
It is like looking at old graves. And how high the walls are, closing up
the gorge between the hills."

At that moment Mrs. Callendar drew our attention to Mrs. Falchion and a
party from the ship. Mrs. Falchion was but a few paces from us, smiling
agreeably as she acknowledged our greetings. Presently two of her party
came to us and asked us to share their lunch. I would have objected, and
I am certain Belle Treherne would gladly have done so, but Mrs. Callendar
was anxious to accept, therefore we expressed our gratitude and joined
the group. On second thoughts I was glad that we did so, because,
otherwise, my party must have been without refreshments until they
returned to the ship--the restaurants at Aden are not to be trusted. To
me Mrs. Falchion was pleasantly impersonal, to Miss Treherne delicately
and actively personal. At the time I had a kind of fear of her interest
in the girl, but I know now that it was quite sincere, though it began
with a motive not very lofty--to make Belle Treherne her friend, and so
annoy me, and also to study, as would an anatomist, the girl's life.

We all moved into the illusive shade of the fig and magnolia trees, and
lunch was soon spread. As we ate, conversation turned upon the annoying
persistency of Eastern guides, and reference was made to the exciting