But fashion, fashion, fashion! She is the goddess of the hour.

Tom, sit over yonder, and watch the follies of thy kind.

Keep a quiet tongue, and I'll see you are not baited.
"And now, let in the popinjays and chattering monkeys; for the sooner we begin, the sooner comes the end!" The next two hours presented a marvellous spectacle to Tom.

There were perhaps some eight to twelve young sparks about town coming and going during that time, some remaining the whole toilet through, others roving off to other similar scenes.

Whilst the perruquier plied his skilful hands in the curling, powdering, and arranging of Lord Claud's abundant golden hair, which some days was powdered and some days left as nature had ordered, they sat beside him in a row upon the bed and chattered of all the latest bits of scandal, the wittiest retorts of this or that sprightly dame, the on dit of the town, the quarrels of the gaming houses, and the doings of the court.
When Lord Claud left his bed and began arraying himself in the soft and costly array provided by his valet, his friends amused themselves by joining with him in the perfuming of his person; borrowing his essences to sprinkle upon their own fine clothes, washing their hands in milk and perfume to make them white and delicate; and calling to his valet to re-tie and arrange their lace-edged cravats in imitation of the style affected by Lord Claud.
Some of them removed their wigs, and asked the perruquier to give them an extra powdering; others got at the cosmetic boxes upon the toilet table, and gave a touch of carmine to cheeks which the night's revel had left wan.