“He did not conduct himself as your advocate did, Master Philip; he did not attempt to convert a court of justice into a bear-garden, or degrade the dignity of his profession by playing the buffoon to make boobies laugh. Mr. Markham is a man of good sense, and I think his conversation would have been of service to you: though he is a young man, he is very extensively informed.” “I have not the least doubt of it,” replied Philip; “I am only sorry that I was so unfortunate as to be out of the way when he was here. I shall be more fortunate I hope another time.” That was a lie; but dependants must lie if they would not lose their places. The Hon. Philip Martindale recollected the time when he was under no necessity of saying the thing which was not, when he was independent but of his profession; but then he was not called the honourable, then he had no rank to support or dignity to keep up. It was really mortifying and distressing to him that those very circumstances to which he had looked with hope and pleasure, and from which he had anticipated an accession to his happiness through the gratification of his pride, should become the means of annoying him so keenly where he was most susceptible. The dilemma in which he was placed was grievously perplexing. Turn which way he would, mortifications awaited him. There was the daughter of a retired soap-boiler on one side; there was the son of a country shopkeeper pestering him on the other. To go back to his profession was quite out of the question. To marry rank and fortune too was not in the compass of probability. Oh, how perplexing and troublesome it is that such perpetual encroachments should be made upon persons of rank; so that notwithstanding all the care and pains which they take to avoid it, they are perpetually brought into contact with the commercial cast. Most deeply did Philip Martindale feel this inconvenience, but he could find no remedy for it. He had however one consolation, in the thought that he was not alone in his sorrows. He was acquainted with others who carried their heads much higher than himself, who yet suffered the convenient degradation of commercial affinities. “Well, well,” said the old gentleman, “I am sorry that Mr. Markham is gone; and I fear we shall not see him again very soon.”