whole pound of apples makes only one pint of apple butter.”
Pints were very small. Felicity sighed. “It seems to be a great deal of work for a little bit of butter. I don’t think it’s worthwhile,” she said. “And once the apple butter’s eaten, there’s nothing to show for all the hard work. You are left with nothing at all.”
Mrs. Merriman laughed. “I remember thinking just that same thing when I was your age,” she said. “And ’tis true, there’s nothing left that anyone can see. But I know that I’ve provided for my family, and that pleases me.” She looked kindly at Felicity. “Caring for a family is a responsibility and a pleasure. It will be your most important task, and one that you must learn to do well. I want you to be a notable housewife when you are grown.”
“Notable?” asked Felicity.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Merriman. “A notable housewife runs her household smoothly, so that everyone in it is happy and healthy. Her life is private and quiet. She is content doing things for her family.”
“Things nobody ever sees,” said Felicity.
“Many lovely things are private and hidden,” her mother agreed. She picked up one of the apples and sliced in half across its fat middle, instead of top to bottom. She held the halves up to Felicity. “Have you ever seen the flower that is hidden inside every apple?” she asked. “It’s there for those who know how to find it.”
Felicity grinned at her mother. There was indeed a flower inside the apple.
“My mother showed that to me when I was a girl and we made apple butter together,” said Mother. “She taught me to sew and cook and plant a garden and run a household. Now I am teaching you. Someday you will teach your daughter.”
“Oh, dear,” said Felicity. “It seems a great deal to learn!”
“Indeed, yes,” said Mrs. Merriman. “And that is not all you must know how to do. When I was just about your age, I had special lessons with my aunt. She taught me the proper way to act in polite society. She showed me how to serve tea and how to be a gracious hostess.” She smiled at the memory. “How I loved those lessons with my aunt! I felt like a graceful young lady instead of a gawky little girl.”
Felicity wiggled her tooth. She didn’t say anything, but the lessons her mother described sounded fussy to her.
Mrs. Merriman looked at Felicity thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is time for you…” she began. Then she caught sight of the pot of apple mush. “Mercy!” she said. “Stir, Lissie! This batch is near to burning!” And she did not finish the sentence she had begun.
But a few nights later, Felicity found out what her mother had been about to say. It was after supper. Everyone was gathered in the parlor around the fire. Its warmth was welcome, for the sun set early these fall evenings, and the dusk was chilly. Felicity sat on a low stool next to Nan. She was helping Nan learn to read the Lord’s Prayer printed on her hornbook.
Nan tilted the hornbook toward the firelight as she read slowly. “‘…Thy kingdom come.’” Then she stopped. “Lissie,” she asked. “Whose kingdom do we live in? God’s or the King of England’s?”
“Well, both, I suppose,” answered Felicity. “Isn’t that right, Father?”
Mr. Merriman, who was holding William on his knee and playing chess with Ben, looked over at his daughters and nodded. “Aye,” he said. “We live in the colony of Virginia, which belongs to the King of England. He rules us, even though he lives far away. Virginia is part of his kingdom.”
“But Virginia is part of God’s kingdom, too,” said Felicity. “Because the whole world, and heaven, and all the stars and everything there is belongs to God. See what it says here, in the rest of the prayer: ‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.’ That means God rules both heaven and earth.”
“Which word says heaven?” asked Nan.
“This one right here,” said Felicity. She pointed to it and read, “Heaven, H - E - A - V - E - N.”
“You can read everything, can’t you, Lissie?” asked Nan.
“Not everything,” said Felicity. “Not yet. But I do love to read. I’d like to attend the college here in Williamsburg, and read Greek and Latin and philosophy and geography, just as the young gentlemen do.”
“Oh, Lissie,” laughed Nan. “That’s silly! Girls aren’t taught at the college.”
Ben looked up from the chessboard and grinned. “Maybe you could pretend to be a boy,” he said. “I have a pair of breeches you may borrow.”
Felicity grinned back, but then she sighed. “I don’t see why girls aren’t educated, too.”
Mrs. Merriman looked up from her stitching and spoke. “Girls should be educated. Not in Latin and Greek, but in the things they need to know to be accomplished young ladies.” She looked at Mr. Merriman with a question in her eyes.
Mr. Merriman nodded and smiled. Then he said in a very pleased voice, “Felicity, your mother and I have decided it is time for you to begin your education.”
Felicity sat up. “Am I to be apprenticed, Father?” she asked hopefully. Some girls were apprentices. They learned to be seamstresses, or to make hats, or even to work in shops. Felicity had always dreamed of working in her father’s store.
“Goodness, no!” exclaimed her mother. “You are fortunate enough to be the daughter of Edward Merriman, one of Williamsburg’s most important merchants. You are to be educated as a gentlewoman.”
“Oh,” said Felicity. She was disappointed. “What am I to learn?”
“The things my aunt taught me,” Mrs. Merriman said. “You will have lessons in dancing, handwriting, fancy stitchery, the proper way to serve tea—”
“Tea?” interrupted Ben. “Lessons about serving tea?”
“Indeed, yes!” said Mrs. Merriman. “A lady’s manners are judged by the way she serves tea. My mother brought her best teapot with her when she left England to come to Virginia. She used to say the king himself would feel at home at her tea table. She served tea as properly in Virginia as any lady did in London. Now Felicity must learn to serve tea properly, too.”
“Tea and stitchery!” sighed Nan. “The lessons sound lovely!”
“I’m not very good at those quiet, sitting down kinds of things,” said Felicity.
“Well,” said Mrs. Merriman calmly. “Then you must improve yourself.”
Felicity was beginning to feel trapped. She asked, “Who will be my teacher?”
“A very respectable gentlewoman named Miss Manderly,” said Mr. Merriman. “She is going to give lessons to two other young ladies. They are sisters, and their family has just come here from England. Miss Manderly has kindly agreed to let you join them.”
“Ooooh!” squealed Nan. “Young ladies from England! They’ll probably already know the very most proper way to do everything, Lissie!”
“The
