Southern literature, not necessarily in its finest but very close. The story of a white family once slave owners and a black family once their slaves. Although that is something of a cliche' these days, this story is isn't like any others of the sort I've read. Like the oral Southern repeating of a family story, it tends to take a while to get to the point, but each word is necessary and the rhythm is beautiful. I did get confused at times as to which character was speaking (probably my own fault). Louisa Hilliard's mother's death and a hurricane's wrath begins her journey to the truth of a wonderful baby's gown said to have been made by an anscestor. I really enjoyed all the references to needlework since I do it myself.