From the painful thoughts into which these circumstances plunged him, he was roused by a message from his father, Lord Martindale, expressing a wish to see him immediately. The summons was immediately obeyed; and how great was his astonishment and concern at finding his lordship in his chamber with all the apparatus of sickness about him, and bearing on his countenance manifest symptoms of serious illness. Philip expressed and really felt great concern at these appearances, and began to reproach himself that he had neglected for several days past to call on his father and family. Lord Martindale desired him not to reproach himself on that head, for he felt assured that his son was not wanting in filial affection and regard for him. His lordship's voice was very feeble, but he exerted himself to say: "I have sent for you, Philip, to explain some matters to you which might otherwise give you serious concern, should you not know them till my decease should reveal them." Philip was about to speak, but Lord Martindale requested him to forbear, and proceeded: "I am not sure that the illness under which I am now labouring will terminate fatally; but I have my apprehensions, and it is best to be prepared. The business on which I wish to speak to you, Philip, is the disposal of that part of my property which is in my own power to dispose of. The entailed estate must of course descend to you; and it might perhaps be supposed, as this estate is small compared with the income which I have spent, that I should bequeath you something more. My inclination would lead me to do so, but it is not in my power. I have lived for a long time on my capital, and that I am concerned to say is so much reduced, that instead of leaving you any thing in addition to the entailed estate, I must make it my request that you will as far as lies in your power assist your younger brothers. There is a living for Robert, but you must support him at the university; and as you have relinquished the profession, you must assist in preparing Henry for the bar. I know not what are the intentions of my cousin, John Martindale, and perhaps he hardly knows himself. This recent discovery of his daughter may and of course will make a serious alteration in the disposal of his property. I regret very much that you ever complied with his offer of the Abbey; I regret also that I ever accepted the offer of rank. These regrets, however, are of no avail. We must make the best of present circumstances. I see no probability of any other resource for you than an advantageous marriage or a place. The rank to which we are advanced must be supported by some means or other."