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.
He put it under his plaid, and prepared to give the signal whistle.
Out flashed the lantern from beneath his plaid and he held it up to the window.