He was dressed as quietly as the style of that day would allow, yet in his toilet, there was entire ease and even a latent air of fashion.

He wore his own hair; and though there was a little powder upon it and upon his coat collar, it was perfectly white, frizzed out a little at the sides, and gathered into a bag behind.

The stranger rose and bowed as Puddock approached the lady, and the lieutenant had a nearer view of his great white forehead--his only good feature--and the pair of silver spectacles that glimmered under it, and his small hooked nose and stern mouth.
''Tis a mean countenance,' said the general, talking him over when the company had dispersed.
'No countenance,' said Miss Becky decisively, '_could_ be mean with such a forehead.' The fact is--if they had cared to analyse--the features, taken separately, with that one exception, were insignificant; but the face was singular, with its strange pallor, its intellectual mastery, and sarcastic decision.
The general, who had accidentally omitted the ceremony--in those days essential--now strutted up to introduce them.
'Mr.Dangerfield, will you permit me to present my good friend and officer Lieutenant Puddock.

Lieutenant Puddock, Mr Dangerfield--Mr.
Dangerfield, Lieutenant Puddock.' And there was a great deal of pretty bowing, and each was the other's 'most obedient,' and declared himself honoured; and the conventional parenthesis ended, things returned to their former course.
Puddock only perceived that Mrs.Sturk was giving Dangerfield a rambling sort of account of the people of Chapelizod.

Dangerfield, to do him justice, listened attentively.