"Aunt Betsy," said Roma, "you know quite well that but for your own express prohibition you would have had a doctor all along."
"For mercy's sake, don't nag, but send for a doctor immediately. Let it be Dr. Fedi. Everybody has Dr. Fedi now."
Fedi was the Pope's physician, and therefore the most costly and fashionable doctor in Rome.
Dr. Fedi came with an assistant who carried a little case of instruments. He examined the Countess, her breast, her side, and the glands under her arms, shot out a solemn under-lip, put two fingers inside his collar, twisted his head from side to side, and announced that the patient must have a nurse immediately.
"Do you hear that, Roma? Doctor says that I must have a nurse. Of course I must have a nurse. I'll have one of the English nursing Sisters. Everybody has them now. They're foreigners, and if they talk they can't do much mischief."
The Sister was sent for. She was a mild and gentle creature, in blue and white, but she talked perpetually of her Mother Superior, who had been bedridden for fifteen years, yet smiled sweetly all day long. That exasperated the Countess and fretted her. When the doctor came again the patient was worse.
"Your aunt must have dainties to tempt her appetite and so keep up her strength."
"Do you hear, Roma?"
"You shall have everything you wish for, auntie."
"Well, I wish for strawberries. Everybody eats them who is ill at this season."