Poor dear, she was wandering in her mind, and no wonder, with a foot
swollen up like that! It was queer, though, hitting on the right name
in that way.

"There! there! Yes, I am Emmeline, though I might've been Sophia or
Debby Jane! Namin' people is sort o' accidental. I always wished they'd
named me somethin' prettier by accident! But I guess Emmeline will have
to do."

It was long after this before any explanation was made. The fact that
it was Emmeline was enough for those first hours.

"Now, you kind of bear on to yourself, poor dear! This boot has got to
come off!" the kind voice crooned. But, in the awful process of "bearing
on," the Talentless One shot out into the dark, as if pushed by a heavy
hand. How long it was before she came back into the light she did not
know--it seemed to be a point of light that pricked her eyes. She shut
them against it, and longed to drift away again; the dark had been cool
and pleasant.

It was a lighted lamp on a tiny, round table. She found it out the next
time she opened her eyes. She was in a little bedroom, on the bed. The
door was open, and a voice drifted in to her:

"She was coming to beautifully when I left her. I thought mebbe she'd
feel more at home to come to alone. I've got her ankle all dressed nice,
but it would make your heart ache to see it! The poor dear won't walk
again this one while--"