"She is a woman in terrible grief," Webster had said, "and she might do something desperate unless she is well looked after." Thus when May regained complete consciousness she found herself in a small, neat, clean room, with a bright fire burning in the grate, and a neat hospital nurse standing by her bedside. Doctor Brentwood was also in the room, and when May looked round and asked the nurse where she was, he too went up to the bedside. "Well, you are better now, I see," he said, cheerfully. "Where am I?" asked May again. "I think I must have fainted." "You are in the private patients' ward in St. Phillip's Hospital. Yes, you fainted, but I hope you will soon be all right after you have had a night's rest." May put her hand over her face; she was recalling her interview with Ralph Webster on the bridge. "Who brought me here?" she asked, presently, in a low, pained tone. "Mr. Webster--Ralph Webster; you are a friend of his, he tells me." For a moment or two May said nothing, and the doctor was turning away to give some directions to the nurse, when she once more addressed him: "Can I see Mr. Webster?" she asked. "Certainly, if you wish it. I will bring him to you at once," replied Doctor Brentwood; and a few minutes later Webster was in the room. He went up not unmoved to the bed on which May was lying, with her white face and her loosed hair. "Doctor Brentwood says you are better, and that you wish to see me?" he said, in a low tone. "Yes, I wish to see you alone for a few minutes," answered May. Webster looked at the doctor, and the doctor looked at the nurse, and then they both left the room. "Mr. Webster," began May, brokenly and agitatedly, "you have brought me here against my will--but will you promise me at least one thing?" "I will promise you anything you wish." "Will you tell no one where I am; remember, no one?" "I faithfully promise you I will not. You are in a safe refuge here, and no one shall come near you nor molest you unless you wish it." "I wish them to think me dead," said May, in a low, emphatic voice; "I wish everyone to think me dead." "I will not betray your secret," answered Webster, and he stretched out his hand and took hers. "Will you trust me?" "Yes; and--and do not tell them my name here. You have not told them my name?" "I have not; Doctor Brentwood is an old friend of mine, and I know you will be well looked after under his care. Try to sleep, and forget what has happened; and what name shall I call you by?" "Oh, anything; it is no matter." Webster thought for a moment or two, and then he once more took May's hand in his own. "I will call you Mrs. Church," he said; "that will do, and now good-night." CHAPTER XXXIII. REMORSE. After John Temple had left May he drove straight to Pembridge Terrace, feeling that the worst of a most painful day was over. At all events May would not leave him, and in another country they would both forget the past.