Coming down, he looked strange in a flannel collar and a flannel shirt-front, with an evening coat and vest.

It was rather large.
"The tailor can make it right," she said, smoothing her hand over his shoulder.

"It's beautiful stuff.

I never could find in my heart to let your father wear the trousers, and very glad I am now." And as she smoothed her hand over the silk collar she thought of her eldest son.

But this son was living enough inside the clothes.