Miss Bigelow's hands met in a clap. "_Mrs. Conner came walking out with Miss Keith, that's what happened!_" said she, in a low, solemn voice.
"On her sprained ankle?" cried Mrs. Darter.
"On her sprained ankle, her that couldn't move it without nearly fainting for the pain. She said it hardly pained her at all; and she's going right on with her preserving this minute. I said to sister it was simply mirac'lus. I can't find a better word."
"Maybe her ankle was not sprained so badly as she thought," Emmy suggested.
"Her face was white as a sheet," said Miss Bigelow; "and we all know Mrs. Conner isn't one to cry before she's hurt, or make a fuss; and we all know her prejudices about mental healing. She says she don't believe a _bit_ more in it than she did, 'but,' says she, 'that girl's a wonder! I wish,' says she, 'Mrs. Darter could have her.' I never lisped, but I made up my mind to go and tell you right straight."
"She couldn't do mother any good," said Emmy, wearily. At which Mrs. Darter spoke for herself in a good, round voice of contradiction. "_Why_ couldn't she? How much does she charge, Miss Ann?"
"_Not one cent!_" replied Ann, with a thrill of triumph; "_if_ she'll come, she'll come free; but I don't know whether she will come."
"Emmy, you go and ask Mrs. Conner to ask her to come; ask Mrs. Conner to come too," said Mrs. Darter, resuming her feeble voice. "I want to see if that ankle _is_ cured. You'll stay with me, Miss Ann?"
So, almost too quickly for her to realize the position, Emmy found herself on her way to the Conners'. A fragrant odor wafted Mrs. Conner's occupation through the open kitchen door before Emmy crossed the threshold to behold her skimming a great kettle of plum jam. "Landy, land! it's Emmy Darter already!" she cried, with a jolly laugh. "I thought I could git that plum jam ready to take off before you'd come. I knew it wouldn't be long when I saw Miss Ann Bigelow trotting across lots. Your ma's sent for Miss Keith, I guess. Well, it's lucky Conner has the hosses hitched in the wagon, and he can take us right over. I'll call Hedwig to take off the jam, and Miss Keith--"
"But, Mrs. Conner, please tell me about yourself," urged Emmy. "_Did_ she cure you?"