Honourable Frederick Standen
The young gentleman who alighted from the chaise must have been recognized at sight by the discerning
as a Pink of the Ton, for although his judgment, which, in all matters of Fashion, was extremely nice,
had forbidden him to travel into the country arrayed in the long-tailed coat of blue superfine, the
pantaloons of delicate yellow, and the tasselled Hessian boots which marked him in the Metropolis as a
veritable Tulip, or Bond Street Beau, none but a regular Dash, patronizing the most exclusive of tailors,
could have presented himself in so exquisitely moulded a riding-coat, such peerless breeches, or such
effulgent top-boots. The white tops of these, which incontrovertibly proclaimed his dandyism, were
hidden by the folds of a very long and voluminous driving-coat, lined with silk, embellished with several
shoulder-capes, and secured across his chest by a double row of very large buttons of mother of pearl.
Upon his brown locks, carefully anointed with Russian oil, and cropped a la Titus, he wore a high-
crowned beaver-hat, set at an exact angle between the rakish and the precise; on his hands were gloves
of York tan; under one arm he carried a malacca cane. When he strolled into the inn, and shed the
somewhat deceptive driving-coat, he was seen to be a slender young gentleman, of average height and
graceful carriage. His countenance was unarresting, but amiable; and a certain vagueness characterized
his demeanour. When he relinquished his coat, his hat, his cane, and his gloves into the landlord's hands,
a slight look of anxiety was in his face, but as soon as a penetrating glance at the mirror had satisfied
him that the high points of his shirt-collar were uncrumpled, and the intricacies of a virgin cravat no
more disarranged than a toouch would set to rights, the anxious look disappeared, and he was able to
turn his attention to other matters.
(ch. iii)