“So it appears to us, who have no such choice,” replied Mr. Denver; “but to Mr. Martindale, who is rolling in riches, some other stimulus is necessary than the mere outward manifestation of wealth; and I dare say that he enjoys more pleasure from the whim of having a dependent relative in the great house, than you or I should from dwelling there ourselves. This I can venture to say, that Philip Martindale has not received any great addition to his happiness from being placed at the Abbey. The old gentleman scarcely allows him a maintenance, and is constantly dictating to him in the merest trifles imaginable.” “What a miserable existence it must be to live dependent on another’s caprice!” exclaimed Horatio. “Not very pleasant, to be sure,” replied the clergyman; “but it is in expectation of hereafter enjoying an independency; and what else can the young man do? Lord Martindale, his father, has but very contracted means, and a large family to provide for. Indeed, I believe that his lordship himself is, in a great degree, dependent on Mr. Martindale to keep up the dignity of his rank.” “And does the old gentleman exercise such authority over Lord Martindale and the rest of his family, as he does over the young gentleman who resides at the Abbey?” “Not quite so much, I believe: he was desirous that his lordship and family should reside at the Abbey; but Lady Martindale so strongly objected to the measure, that it was given up; and Mr. Philip, after a little hesitation, assented to his relative’s proposal to take up his abode here, though Lady Martindale strongly urged him not to relinquish his profession.” “Profession!--what profession? I think I remember that name in the Temple.” “Yes, he was at the bar; and I have heard that he was rather successful, considering the short time that he had practised; but as soon as his father became a peer, and his wealthy relative offered him this magnificent seat, he gave up practising, and cut his old friends.” “Then he has made a very foolish exchange; for the old gentleman, as you call him, does not seem likely to gratify his heirs by a speedy departure from this life, and in all probability his domineering habits will rather increase than diminish as he grows older. But from the brief which I held yesterday, it seems that Mr. Philip Martindale is a man of very profligate habits. How does that suit his cousin?” “Why, yes, the young man is rather gay; and so indeed was the old gentleman formerly, or his old acquaintance very much belie him. Now, however, he is occasionally very grave in his way, and frequently gives his cousin very serious lectures, which are not of much avail; for Mr. Martindale’s style of reproof is more jesting than rebuking: he says whatever he thinks; and has the oddest mode of thinking of any man that I know. He says any thing to any body, and where he is known nobody heeds him.”