er teeth, and clinched her little fist and shook it
after him, hissing:

"He scorns me--he scorns me! Ah, he may scorn my love! Let him beware of
my hate! He will not meet me as a friend, but he will serve me
willingly! Very well; he shall be often called upon to serve me, if only
to bring him under my power!"

CHAPTER XIII.

MARY GREY'S MANEUVER.

She'd tried this world in all its changes,
States and conditions; had been loved and happy.
Scorned and wretched, and passed through all its stages;
And now, believe me, she who knew it best,
Thought it not worth the bustle that it cost.
--MADDEN.

Mary Grey now set systematically to work. Partly from love or its base
counterfeit, partly from hate, but mostly from vanity, she determined to
devote every faculty of mind and body to one set object--to win Alden
Lytton's love back again and to subjugate him to her will.

To all outward seeming she led a most blameless and beneficent life.

She lived with the bishop's widow, and made herself very useful and
agreeable to the staid lady, who refused to take any money for her
board.

And although the house was full of students, who boarded and lodged and
spent their evenings there, with the most wonderful self-government she
forebore "to make eyes" at any of them.

She now no longer said in so many words that "her heart was buried in
the grave," and so forth; but she quietly acted as if it was.

She put away all her mourning finery--her black tulles and silks and
bugles and jet jewelry--and she took to wearing the plainest black
alpacas and the plainest white muslin caps. She looked more like a
Protestant nun than a "sparkling" young widow. But she looked prettier
and more interesting than ever, and she knew it.

She was a regular attendant at her church, going twice on Sunday and
twice during the week.

On Sunday mornings she was always sure of finding Alden Lytton in his
seat, which was in full sight of her own. But she never looked toward
him. She was content to feel that he often looked at her, and that he
could not look at her and remain quite indifferent to her.

She was also an active member of all the parish benevolent societies, a
zealous teacher in the Sunday-school, an industrious seamstress in the
sewing-circle, and a regular visitor of the poor and sick.

Her life seemed devoted to good works, apparently from the love of the