The strawberries were bought, but the Countess scarcely touched them, and they were finally consumed in the kitchen.
When the doctor came a third time the patient was much emaciated and her skin had become sallow and earthy.
"It would not be right to conceal from you the gravity of your condition, Countess," he said. "In such a case we always think it best to tell a patient to make her peace with God."
"Oh, don't say that, doctor," whimpered the poor withered creature on the bed.
"But while there's life there's hope, you know; and meantime I'll send you an opiate to relieve the pain."
When the doctor was gone, the Countess sent for Roma.
"That Fedi is a fool," she said. "I don't know what people see in him. I should like to try the Bambino of Ara Cœli. The Cardinal Vicar had it, and why shouldn't I? They say it has worked miracles. It may be dear, but if I die you will always reproach yourself. If you are short of money you can sign a bill at six months, and before that the poor maniac woman will be gone and you'll be the wife of the Baron."
"If you really think the Bambino will...."
"It will! I know it will."
"Very well, I will send for it."