CHAPTER XXXIV.
MR. CHURCHILL’S NEWS.
Early on the next morning after Ralph Webster had left May at St. Phillip’s Hospital, he called there to inquire after her, and saw his friend the house surgeon, Doctor Brentwood.
“You have come to ask after the poor little woman you brought here last night,” said the doctor, as he shook Webster’s hand. “Well, I’m sorry to say I can’t give a very good account of her. She has had a bad, restless night, and is very feverish this morning.”
“I am very sorry,” answered Webster, gravely, and a slight quiver passed over his lips.
“She seems extremely low, almost in a hopeless state,” went on the doctor. “She’s had some tremendous heart-break or other, poor soul; I suppose it’s not possible to give her any mental relief?”
“I fear not,” said Webster, in a low, pained tone. “She has lost at one blow all that made the happiness of her life.”
Doctor Brentwood looked somewhat curiously at his friend.
“She is decidedly pretty, at least she must be even remarkably so when she is well. I don’t want to seem curious, Webster, but suppose the poor young woman gets worse—and it is possible—what other friends has she besides yourself?”
“I promised her faithfully not to mention anything of her past.”