During a lull in the games, Iddo found courage to tell her special friend that she was a pilgrim to the Radiant City. She was not prepared for the effect of her words. A look of disdain crossed her companion's face. "I was told that you were," she answered, "but I would not believe it. You are quite unlike every other pilgrim I have met." "How am I unlike them?" asked Iddo, feeling rather uncomfortable. "The other pilgrims have worn their armour all the time they have passed through our land. But you don't seem to have any." "Oh yes I have," exclaimed Iddo, "look, here is my sword." "You have managed to hide it well," said her companion. "The friend who brought me to you told me it would never do to meet you all, dressed in my armour," said Iddo. "You were afraid of being laughed at I suppose?" The tone of voice, full of scorn as it was, brought the colour into Iddo's face. "I always meant to show it before I left you," she murmured. Aimee looked at Iddo with an expression that the girl did not quite understand. "What are you thinking of?" she asked. "I was thinking how much more I respected the pilgrims who are not ashamed of their King and their Country," said Aimee. "Oh!" said Iddo, "I am afraid you despise me, I could not bear to think that." "Well, my dear, don't think of it! See, the game is beginning again. Notwithstanding your lack of courage, there is something about you that I like; come, they are looking for you." And in the pleasure of joining in the game, Iddo forgot for a time the disagreeable sensation that the look of scorn she had caught on Aimee's face, had produced in her. It was sometime after this that the game suddenly stopped at the approach of a girl as pretty as Iddo, and with much more to say for herself, and Iddo's admirers, with a hasty apology, left her one by one and centred round the new corner. Iddo turned red with disappointment, and sat down on the grass to watch. "It is very unfair," whispered a voice by her side, "you are far prettier than this new girl." Iddo, startled, looked around her, and saw a man leaning against a tree, watching the group around the new corner with fire smouldering in his eyes. He was an ugly man, and at first she so disliked the look of him that she paid no attention to his words, nevertheless her disappointment at being deserted changed at his remark to vexation. "Every one admired and spoilt you till that girl came," the man continued, "they are very fickle." Iddo felt this stranger was so much in sympathy with her that she looked at him again, and her face caught something of the gloomy expression that his wore. "What shall I do?" she asked, "it is horrid sitting here all by myself, when that girl is being so courted. Please give me your advice." "Wait and see," said the man, whose name was Jealousy, and as he spoke the crowd came dancing and laughing in her direction. One or two seeing her sitting alone made their way towards her.