“Harriet, you must get a hot foot-bath ready directly,” she said, as she raised Miss Leonard to a half-recumbent position, and placed three or four pillows beneath her head and shoulders. She loosened her night-robe at the neck, and applied cloths dipped in cold water to her head. Harriet was soon ready with the foot-bath, and it was not long before the two women began to perceive a change for the better in their patient. Her eyes began to grow more natural in expression, the crimson flush gradually faded from her face, her nervousness abated, and her pulse became more regular. When day dawned, Salome knew that all immediate danger was past, but there were other symptoms which she considered critical, and she told Harriet that she thought her physician ought to be summoned. “No, don’t you dare send for a doctor. I won’t have any men about me,” snapped Miss Leonard, who had overheard the conference. “But, Miss Leonard,” Salome said, going to her bedside, and speaking persuasively, “I know that you need advice—you need instant and radical treatment.” “I can’t help it—I won’t have any doctor about my premises,” she stubbornly reiterated. “Well, if you object to the sex, there are women who are regular physicians; let me send for one of them,” Salome urged. “I won’t,” was the resolute answer. “I’m not going to be experimented on. I don’t believe in doctors any way, and the less of their stuff one takes the better. You claim that you are a trained nurse—you must know something about sickness; treat me yourself.” CHAPTER XXVIII. MISS LEONARD’S ILLNESS. Salome saw that she was becoming greatly excited, and concluded not to argue the point any further just then. “I am sure,” she said, after thinking a moment, “I will do the best I can for you, Miss Leonard; but you surely need medicine.” “Well, perhaps I do, and I’ll take anything you think I ought to have; but I won’t have a doctor—so that is settled.” Salome was deeply troubled. She did not dare to assume the responsibility of administering remedies without the advice of an intelligent physician, and yet it would not do to persist in calling one, for the woman would certainly work herself into a dangerous state if antagonized. She went into Miss Leonard’s dressing-room and beckoned Harriet to come to her. The girl followed, after a few moments, under pretence of renewing the wet cloth upon her mistress’s head. “What shall we do, Harriet?” Salome questioned anxiously. “Miss Leonard is certainly very ill, and she must have medical attendance.” “Well, I don’t know, miss; she’s had her say, and an eight-ox team wouldn’t move her now,” said the maid, in a positive tone. “How would it do, I wonder, if I should go to some skilful physician, tell him exactly how the matter stands, and describe her symptoms. I could do that every day, and twice a day, if necessary, and perhaps he could then treat her through me,” Salome said musingly.