“Plinth,” said Godwin. “It’s called a plinth.”

Irene ignored that. She said to Betsy, “I was afraid it was too… messy.”

Godwin said, “I think all the overstitching is brilliant.”

Betsy said, “Yes, that gives it an especially wonderful effect. What are you going to do with it?”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Irene. “I wanted to know first if it was any good.”

“This is beyond good,” said Godwin. “This is… this is art.”

This time Irene glanced at him with respect. “You think so?”

“Yes.”

“I agree,” said Betsy. “Any art gallery would be proud to offer this. Of course, I’d like you to turn it into a pattern. This would be a real challenge for an advanced stitcher, but I’m sure I could sell it. But maybe you should enter it in a competition first. Is there a competition for work like this, Godwin?”

“There are all sorts of needlework competitions,” he said. “It would do well in any of them, I think.”

Irene said, “Then I’ll put it in the State Fair, I guess.” Irene had lots of blue ribbons from the Minnesota State Fair’s needlework competitions.

“Or CATS,” said Godwin. “Hey, they’re coming to Minneapolis in October this year, so you could enter it in both.” CATS was the Creative Arts and Textile Show, which featured needlework designers, classes, and booths selling the latest patterns and fibers. It had a prestigious competition for needlework.

“This is so different from anything I’ve done before,” said Irene, who had in fact never attempted more than slight changes in someone else’s pattern, and who had always selected very literal patterns. “But it felt good doing it. It felt better than almost anything I’ve done before.” She reached for the canvas and began to roll it up.

“Don’t you want it finished?” asked Betsy.

“No, not yet,” said Irene. “Maybe later. I’ve got to get back to work.” She turned and hurried out.