The Transformation of Philip Jettan by Georgette Heyer

On a particularly sunny morning, some five or six days after Mr. Jettan's return from London town, the main street of Little Fittledean was made brighter still by the passage of an Apparition.

The Apparition wore a coat of palest apricot cloth, with a flowered vest of fine brocade, and startling white small-clothes. Red-heeled shoes were on his feet, and his stockings were adorned by sprawling golden clocks. He carried an amber-clouded cane and a jewelled snuffbox, while ever and anon he raised a cobwebby handkerchief to his aristocratic nose. He minced down the street towards the marketplace, followed by the awestricken glances of an amazed population. The inhabitants of the village had never seen anything so wonderful or so remarkable as this gorgeous gentleman. They watched the high red heels click along the road, and admired the beautiful set of the Apparition's coat. A group of children stopped playing to stare, open-mouthed. The Apparition heeded them not. It may have been that he was oblivious of their existence. Not even when a piping treble requested "John" to "look'ee now at them shoes! " did he show that he realised the presence of anyone but himself in the village. He minced on, very languid, and suitably bored.