Felicity 3-book set. Valerie Tripp

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      Felicity and Elizabeth waited at Mr. Merriman’s store for Annabelle to catch up. They chatted about their lessons, and horses, and their samplers. But whenever they thought about Annabelle being sweet on Ben, they began to giggle. It was very hard not to laugh when Annabelle came into the store. She looked around. When she saw Ben was not there, she said briskly, “Come along, Bitsy! There’s no need to stay!”

      Felicity and Elizabeth smiled at each other and waved good-bye.

      Soon after Elizabeth and Annabelle had left, Mr. Merriman began to close up the store. “You and Elizabeth are the merriest girls in Virginia,” he said. “You always have a great deal to talk about.”

      “Aye,” said Felicity. “Today we had a wonderful idea for something to put on our samplers. Miss Manderly says we’re to start them soon. We are going to need lots of red silk thread.”

      “Are you going to stitch some red Virginia roses, red as the roses in my lovely Lissie’s cheeks?” asked Mr. Merriman.

       “Oh, no,” said Felicity. “Elizabeth says we should put a bright red crown right at the top of our samplers to show that we all look up to the same king. She says that he is fair and generous to everyone he rules, in England and in his colonies.”

      “Well,” said Mr. Merriman with a sad smile. “I am not sure everyone would agree. Many people feel the king is treating us colonists badly. They do not want to be ruled by the king anymore.”

      Felicity was confused. “But isn’t that disloyal?” she asked.

      Mr. Merriman shrugged. “People will not be loyal to someone who treats them unfairly. And they feel the king’s tax on tea is unfair.”

      “Annabelle said some colonists threw tea into the York River,” said Felicity. “Is that true?”

      “Yes,” said Mr. Merriman. “It was their way of showing the king they are angry. Other people have decided they are not going to buy tea or even drink it anymore. That will be their way to show the king that they are angry.”

      “Just because they have to pay a few pence more for tea?” asked Felicity.

       “It isn’t only the tax on tea,” answered Mr. Merriman. “We colonists built this country with our own hard work. Many people feel we should govern it ourselves, without the king.”

      Without the king? Felicity couldn’t imagine it. “Do you think we would be better off without the king, Father?” she asked.

      Mr. Merriman sighed. “That is the question everyone is asking.”

      Felicity looked up at him. “Miss Manderly would call it a question of general interest,” she said.

      “Quite so,” said Mr. Merriman. “And I do not know the answer to it.”

      “Well, do you think I should not stitch a crown on my sampler?” Felicity asked her father.

      Mr. Merriman handed her some red silk thread. “I think you must answer that question for yourself,” he said. “Now come along, my child. ’Tis time we were on our way home.”

      Bananabelle

       CHAPTER 9

      elicity did not say anything to Elizabeth about the talk she’d had with her father about the king and tea. She was too confused and uncomfortable. She did not decide what to do about her sampler, either. She made a few stitches with the red thread at the top of her sampler, but they didn’t look like a crown, that was for certain. They looked like bumpy knots.

      “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “I’ve tangled my thread again! I shall have to cut it and start all over.” She and Elizabeth were working on their samplers at Elizabeth’s house one cold November afternoon.

      “My mother has some scissors in her chamber,” said Elizabeth. “Let’s go and fetch them.”

      “Will we disturb your mother?” asked Felicity.

      “Oh, no,” said Elizabeth. “She and Annabelle have gone out calling. They won’t be home for hours. Follow me.”

      Felicity and Elizabeth went up the wide staircase to Mrs. Cole’s bedchamber. “She keeps the scissors in her sewing basket,” said Elizabeth. “Over here, next to her wigs.”

      “I’ve never seen so many wigs and curls outside the wigmaker’s shop,” said Felicity. She looked at the five carved, wooden heads lined up in a row. “Do you think I might try a wig on?” she asked boldly.

      “Well, I suppose so,” said Elizabeth.

      Felicity took a wig of dark hair off one of the heads. “I have always wanted to see what I would look like with dark hair,” she said. She gazed at herself in the looking glass and giggled. “I look like a ninny!”

      Elizabeth giggled. “Oh, Lissie, you do look funny!”

      Felicity loved to make Elizabeth laugh. She picked up the bald wooden head and fluttered her eyelashes at it, just like Annabelle. “Oh, my darling Ben!” she said in a high voice. “It is I, your beautiful Bananabelle! You have stolen my heart away!”

      “Bananabelle!” Elizabeth laughed. “You sound just like her!”

      Felicity pressed her cheek against the wooden head’s cheek. “Let us be married, my darling Ben. And we can discuss questions of general interest all the day long! Oh, I love you, you handsome lad! Say that you love me, your Bananabelle, or I shall die!” She gave the wooden head a big, smacking kiss.

      “WHAT’S THIS?” Annabelle’s voice boomed from the doorway.

      Felicity pulled off the wig and whirled around. Elizabeth went white.

      Annabelle crossed her arms. “So this is what you and your rude little shopkeeper friend do, Bitsy?”

      Elizabeth did not say anything. She looked down at her shoes.

      Felicity said, “Oh, Annabelle. It was only a bit of fun.”

      “Fun?” snorted Annabelle. “You have no manners! I shall tell Mama what you’ve done. We shall see if she thinks it is fun. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells Bitsy never to speak to you again!”

      Felicity was not afraid of Annabelle. “If you tell your mother,” she said coolly, “I will tell Ben you are sweet on him.”

      “Oh!” sputtered Annabelle. “Oh!” She glared at Felicity. “You…you uncivilized brat!” She stormed from the room.

      Elizabeth looked at Felicity. Her blue eyes were troubled. “Why did you say that to her?” she asked. “Now she will be angry.”

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