It was the plaid belonging to Stella Hardy, who had died in her teens.
She had on a plaid shawl of purple, green, and red checkers, crossed on her bosom.
In gorgeous tweeds and a shepherd's plaid cap he looked the part.
Out flashed the lantern from beneath his plaid and he held it up to the window.
She snipped her threads and drew the plaid skirt from under the needle.