XXIV. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL






CHAPTER I.

UNA CALLINGHAM'S FIRST RECOLLECTION





It may sound odd to say so, but the very earliest fact that
impressed itself on my memory was a scene that took place--so I was
told--when I was eighteen years old, in my father's house, The
Grange, at Woodbury.

My babyhood, my childhood, my girlhood, my school-days were all
utterly blotted out by that one strange shock of horror. My past
life became exactly as though it had never been. I forgot my own
name. I forgot my mother-tongue. I forgot everything I had ever done
or known or thought about. Except for the power to walk and stand
and perform simple actions of every-day use, I became a baby in arms
again, with a nurse to take care of me. The doctors told me, later,
I had fallen into what they were pleased to call "a Second State." I
was examined and reported upon as a Psychological Curiosity. But at