y husband to go to her. He is her pastor, and may be able
to do her some good," said the minister's wife.

"Do, my dear, and come to see her yourself," said Miss Romania, as she
and her sister arose to take leave.

Now you know all this distress was just "put on" by Mrs. Grey, to give
coloring and plausibility to her future proceedings.

To be sure she kept her room, but it was not to grieve in secret: it was
to excite the compassion and wonder of her sympathizing friends, while
she laid her plans, drank French cordials, and feasted privately on the
delicacies of the season, which she would secretly bring in, or dozed on
her sofa and dreamed of her coming sweet revenge.

Certainly, instead of going to bed at a decent hour, she would walk the
floor of her chamber half the night. But this was not done because she
was suffering, or sleepless from grief, but for the purpose of keeping
poor Miss Crane awake all night in the room below and making the poor
lady believe that she, Mary Grey, was breaking her own heart in these
vigils.

And for her want of nightly rest Mary Grey compensated herself by dozing
half the day on her sofa; and for her want of regular meals she made up
by slipping out occasionally and feasting at some "ladies' restaurant."

But her object was effected. She impressed everybody who came near her
with the belief that she had suffered some awful wrong or bereavement of
which she could not speak, but which threatened to unseat her reason or
end her life.

CHAPTER XLII.

MARY GREY'S STORY.

At length her minister came to see her. He expressed the deepest
sympathy with her sufferings, and implored her to relieve her
overburdened heart by confiding in him or in his wife, from either or
both of whom, he assured her, she should receive respectful compassion
and substantial assistance, if the last was necessary.

Then, pretending to yield to his better judgment, she consented to give
him her confidence.

And taking him up to her own sitting-room, where they could be safe from
interruption, she bound him over to secrecy, and then, with many
affected tears and moans, she told him the astounding story that she had
long been privately married to Mr. Alden Lytton, who had deserted her
within a few days after their wedding, and who had recently, as every
one knew, united himself in matrimony with Miss Emma Cavendish, of Blue
Cliffs, Virginia, and had gone with her on a wedding trip to Europe.

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