Friday, November 14th, 1890
Unfortunately I was what was called "improperly dressed." I have not conformed to the rule that in order to have the entrée in the City one must wear a silk hat and a frock coat. I have been disporting myself in a bowler hat and tweeds, while I still further trangress by wearing light flannel shirts instead of white linen. It is something of a fad to be wearing these loose garments, but I am pleasing myself, and not Dame Fashion. I frequently notice that my loose-fronted shirt is the object of comment among people, who think that one is uncivilised unless the manly bosom is adorned with a stiff white shirt. So I presented myself at the Bank and, handing in my card, asked to see the Governor, Mr. Lidderdale. A functionary in a frock coat, who took my card, scrutinised me suspiciously, boggled at my tweed suit and brown shoes and my outrageous shirt, and then turned on his heel to fetch a colleague, also in a frock coat. He, too, looked puzzled, but I insisted, and finally they took in my card.