"Doctor," she whispered, "where am I?"

"At home, in your own bed."

"Where is this place?"

Dr. Littlejohn paled. He sent an anxious glance toward the sitting-room
door, though he knew very well that Margaret and Katherine were in the
kitchen and could not hear.

"Where is this place?" begged the woman again.

"Why, it--it--is--" The man paused helplessly.

Five thin fingers tightened their clasp on his hand, and the low voice
again broke the silence.

"Doctor, did you ever know--did you ever hear that a fall could give
back--sight?"

Dr. Littlejohn started and peered into the wan face lying back on the
pillow. Its impassiveness reassured him.

"Why, perhaps--once or twice," he returned slowly, falling back into his
old position, "though rarely--very rarely."

"But it has happened?"

"Yes, it has happened. There was a case recently in England. The shock