For the next week or so, Herrick had his hands full. Mrs. Marsh grew rapidly worse, and several times nearly slipped through his fingers. But the doctor's skill, Petronella's nursing, and above all the indomitable determination of Mrs. Marsh not to die, enabled her to turn the corner. She became much better, but still suffered from racking pains. At times Herrick gave her morphia, but did so sparingly. From Petronella he learned that she had taken chloral for years past, and feared that if she gained a taste for morphia she might take to it instead of the weaker drug. For Stephen's sake, Jim could not let that happen. Never had Herrick had so unruly a patient. He did not wonder that she had quarrelled with all the Beorminster doctors. The wonder was that she had a friend left. Her temper was ungovernable, and she fought Herrick on every point that did not chime in with her inclinations. In spite of the fact that he was attending her out of sheer kindness, and had intimated to Stephen that he expected no fee, Mrs. Marsh abused him virulently whenever she felt so inclined. But then she abused everyone, even Petronella, who was her slave. As to Stephen, devoted as he was to her, she could not find words bad enough for him sometimes. He was a fool, a ninny, a milksop, he lived upon her charity, etc., etc. Yet there were times when the young man was all that was good in her eyes. Even Herrick came in for his share of praise at odd moments. "Gran' Dio!" Petronella would say to Herrick after some tussel, "was there ever such a diavola as the Padrona?" "The old Italian woman had taken a great fancy to Dr. Jim. He was good to her mistress whom she idolized, he was kind to Petronella herself, and could speak her language. He had once made a tour of Europe for three years with a young dipsomaniac and had contrived to pick up three or four tongues, which he spoke remarkably correctly. Spanish, French, German, Italian, Dr. Jim knew them all and could both read and write them with wonderful accuracy. In the eyes of Petronella he was a marvellous man, and she often talked to him on subjects which she would not discuss with anyone else. "Do not be angry with the padrona Signor Dottore," she said sometimes, "it is the blood of the Michelotto family. Eh, the Michelotti were wicked!" "Like Colonel Carr? Eh, Petronella?" "Signor Dottore, the Colonel was an angel of light to the wicked Michelotti. The padrona is the last of them, and it is not wonder she is angry. Per Bacco," added Petronella who could swear on occasions, "see this casa--a fitting casa for the last of the grand signori." "But it is all right now Petronella. As soon as your signora can be removed we shall take her to The Pines.