"No."
"Oh dear. We shall have to give you a name then until you can think of your own." The woman thought for a moment. "We'll call you Samantha. Samantha Young."
"Samantha Young?"
"If you don't like it, we can change it to something else."
"No, it's fine, I guess."
"Good. A child should have a name she likes." The woman smiled at the newly-christened Samantha Young. "My name is Miss Brigham. I look after the children here. I'm going to take care of you."
Miss Brigham ran a hand up the side of Samantha's head to rest on her forehead. "You feel much cooler. When Mr. Pryde found you, I thought you would burn up. You're very lucky he got you here in time for the reverend to cure you."
"Cure me? But I'm not cured," Samantha said. "Why can't I remember? What's wrong with me?"
"I'm not sure, dear. In time it will all come back to you. Until then you're welcome to stay with us." Miss Brigham sniffed the air and then put a hand on Samantha's bed. "Oh my, you wet the bed. We'll have to clean you up before the morning service. We can't have you meeting the reverend smelling like that. And you'll need clothes. When Mr. Pryde brought you in, you were naked as a plucked chicken. Prudence, be a dear and get Samantha some clothes. She looks about Helena's size."
Miss Brigham glanced over at the doorway, where a fat girl cowered, her hands kneading her white apron. She wore the same gray dress as Miss Brigham and had her auburn hair pulled back into a similar bun. "Go on, dear, don't stand there gaping."
Prudence left the room, leaving Samantha alone with Miss Brigham, who dried Samantha's tears with the hem of her apron. "Thank you," Samantha said. She sniffled and then wiped her nose with the back of an unfamiliar bronze-skinned hand. She flexed the long fingers of the hand, trying to remember where she might have seen them before. Nothing came to her. "I'm sorry to make a mess."
"Don't worry a hair on your pretty head about it. We'll get everything cleaned up good as new. Prudence will take you down to the stream for a bath." Prudence stood frozen in the doorway, clutching a stack of clothes in trembling fingers. "Prudence is a little shy. Come here, dear, she won't bite."