Doctor Hawkins is assistant ophthalmologist at the Perkins Institute, but Miss Lincoln has not been a student there for the past six years.
At the time Doctor Proctor was ophthalmological surgeon at the institute, he got some of the records of the case, which he handed over to Doctor Hawkins.
Miss Lincoln said that she was feeling fine, and as the nervous condition which followed the coming of sight has practically passed away, she is eager to begin life anew. She wants to do so many things, she does not know where to begin, but most of all, her parents say, she wants to learn, and if Doctor Hawkins thinks it advisable, she will probably take up studies at once.
Heavily veiled, she attended Sunday school yesterday at the First Baptist Church, in Marblehead, where she is a member of Mrs. Gertrude Dennis’ class. She spent the rest of the day at home and retired early, to be ready for her trip to Boston to-day.
“I rather dread to go,” said Miss Lincoln. “There will be so many people, and so many things to look at, I think I shall be afraid. But if I can get rid of that feeling of fear, I know I shall enjoy it.”
Miss Lincoln saw her own picture for the first time in the papers to-day, and was delighted with it.
Practically blind from her birth, twenty-one years she now sees clearly. In an instant one afternoon, as she was about household duties, this seeming miracle came. With a snap the covering was rent from the right eye as she was putting dishes in the china closet.
Two days later, in the evening, as she sat with her parents, the other eye was uncovered, and sight was given to it.
“I went to the closet to put up some dishes,” she said. “Of course, there was no light in the closet and it all looked dark to me. The top of my head did not feel good. It hurt. It was as heavy as—as a load of bricks. That’s just the way it felt. I reached up with the dishes. Then suddenly something snapped in my right eye. That is the only way I can describe it—like that.”
And she snapped her fingers.