“No; and whilst I have my eyes open he never will, the Serpent helping me. But clean rags and soft shoes for me in the future. I think the very--very devil got into those clogs--they were like millstones round my feet--a perfect nightmare. Tooth of the Serpent! what exquisite torture the poor must undergo!” CHAPTER V Now, the High Priest’s Palace was situated about half a mile from the Temple, the grounds of the one meeting the other. The park surrounding the Palace was a very noble one, and spread far out into the suburbs at the back, whilst at the front it consisted chiefly of gardens and a fine avenue. It was customary every day at noon for the poor of the city to come here for a meal, and by means of tickets to take away what was specified for those unable to attend themselves. So it was that some time after eleven, dressed in becoming poverty, Marigold set out, taking no children certainly, nor yet an empty stomach, but a mischievous untrained heart, looking for fun and excitement. The day was so beautiful, the breeze so fresh, that it brought more than the usual colour to her cheeks, and more than the usual light to her eyes; or perhaps the episode of the earlier morning still lingered in her mind, for why should Marigold so often stop to frown, and then move on again laughing. “Frightened of a man! and such a little wizened-looking thing,” said she. “I believe he wasn’t much bigger than myself. And his eyes were as expressionless as those of an ox, and his voice like an old tin kettle. It was seeing him so unexpectedly that frightened me, in that big gloomy archway with the red creepers.” She forgot that seeing him had made her laugh till the expressionless ox eyes turned on her. As she turned in one of the sidegates of the park, she met many poor and wretched-looking creatures going in the same direction as herself, and, seeing some of the coarser faces and the deep dirt that surrounded them, she began to wish she had never come, yet persevered from reasons unintelligible even to herself. “Wealth isn’t such a disagreeable thing after all,” thought she. “I wonder, if I’d tried being agreeable to him from the Princess side of me, if it would have been easier. But a Princess must be so highly respectable, and a beggar needn’t be.” At last, with many others in close proximity, she came at the large side door leading to the public dining-hall, and was allowed to pass in, for none were denied admittance. Once in, she put a little butterfly handkerchief, that had mercifully been scented, up to her nose, for, though the large rooms were well ventilated, the very poor bring a somewhat different odour from the rich, and the smell of food mixed with strong breath was less than pleasant. Poor Marigold! had she been a simple romance-seeker she would have fled there and then, for this was grim reality; yet she never thought to turn back--not even when they set her down beside an old man who appeared to be suffering from a severe cold.