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The Bronte Skirt, and: Crocheting the Shawl

I found it pressed between the sweaters, outside on the sale rack of the import store: three tiers of sun-faded cloth substantial as parlor drapery— crushed velour and cotton dressed with mauve ruffles and, here and there, the embroidered emblems of a forgotten time from those novels I devoured as a girl: Little Women, Jane Eyre, a skirt I imagine nineteenth-century women wore—the Bronte sisters 157