The young Duke
was quite forgotten, if really young he could be longer called. Lord
Marylebone was in the mouth of every tradesman, who authenticated his
own vile inventions by foisting them on his Lordship. The most grotesque
fashions suddenly inundated the metropolis; and when the Duke of St.
James ventured to express his disapprobation, he found his empire was
over. 'They were sorry that it did not meet his Grace's taste, but
really what his Grace had suggested was quite gone by. This was the only
hat, or cane, or coat which any civilised being could be seen with. Lord
Marylebone wore, or bore, no other.'
In higher circles, it was much the same. Although the dandies would not
bate an inch, and certainly would not elect the young Marquess for their
leader, they found, to their dismay, that the empire which they were
meditating to defend, had already slipped away from their grasp. A
new race of adventurous youths appeared upon the stage. Beards, and
greatcoats even rougher, bull-dogs instead of poodles, clubs instead of
canes, cigars instead of perfumes, were the order of the day. There was
no end to boat-racing; Crockford's sneered at White's; and there was
even a talk of reviving the ring.
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