"I wonder what they would think of him?" By they he meant the faculty in London.
"Every day I hate London more and more. Granby and I were made for pals. D---- London!" thought Rowland, as he turned back into the house of mourning and pain.
CHAPTER II.
[THE DREAD OF STRAWBERRY LEAVES.]
"What's the matter with you, Marion? You are not going to faint again today?"
"I hope not, aunt."
"Then what is the matter with you, my dear? You are shaking as if you had the ague. You are not able to hold those papers in your hand. Who was that large letter from this morning?"
"Charlie, aunt."
"I thought Charlie was too ill to write?"
"A Doctor Rowland wrote it for him."