LITMIR.BIZ

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      Mr. Merriman held her close. “Did you hear that, my child?” he asked.

      “Aye,” said Felicity. “Elizabeth and I both did.”

       “And did it frighten you?” asked Mr. Merriman.

      “A little,” said Felicity. “Who were those men, Father?”

      “Just some men of the town,” said her father. “I know most of them.”

      Ben spoke up. “They are Loyalists,” he said. “They are angry because some of us have joined together to protest against the king.”

      “I’ve decided to stop selling tea in my store, to show the king we colonists will not pay his tax,” explained Mr. Merriman.

      “If no one pays the tax, it will make the king angry,” said Felicity. “Won’t that start a fight?”

      “Aye,” said Mr. Merriman softly. “It could.”

      “Do you think there will be a war?” asked Felicity.

      “I don’t know,” said Mr. Merriman, shaking his head.

      “It may take a war to show the king he cannot treat the colonists this way anymore!” exclaimed Ben.

      “Hush, boy!” said Mr. Merriman. “You have not seen war, as I have. War is the worst way to solve disagreements. War is like a terrible illness. Everyone suffers. People die. Those who survive are weakened, and ’tis a long while before they are full strength again.”

      Ben was quiet. Felicity was quiet, too. Then she asked, “Father, will we drink tea at home?”

      “No,” said Mr. Merriman. “There will be no tea in our house.”

      “But what should I do at lessons?” asked Felicity. “We drink tea there. And teatime is so very important. What will Miss Manderly think if I refuse tea?” She turned to her father with a sad, confused face.

      A Bright Red Cardinal Bird

       CHAPTER 10

      elicity and Elizabeth did not have a chance to talk at lessons the next day. Miss Manderly was working with them on their samplers.

      “And what is this at the top of your sampler, Felicity?” Miss Manderly asked. “Such bright red thread. Perhaps you are stitching our Virginia songbird, the cardinal. Is that what you are planning?”

      “I…I don’t know,” said Felicity. “I haven’t decided.”

      “Well,” said Miss Manderly. “You will have to decide soon, my dear. You cannot leave red knots at the top of your sampler!”

      Felicity saw Elizabeth looking at her. The red crown on Elizabeth’s sampler was almost finished.

      When it was time for tea, Miss Manderly smiled. “Young ladies,” she said, “you have made such fine progress. I think the time has come for you to take turns serving the tea. Annabelle, you are the eldest. You shall serve the tea today.”

      Felicity was nervous. She had not decided what she was going to do about tea, either. Her family wasn’t drinking tea at home. Should she drink it here? She watched as Annabelle sat behind the tea table acting very important. After Annabelle prepared the tea, she filled Miss Manderly’s cup first, then Elizabeth’s cup, and then her own.

      Miss Manderly leaned forward in her chair. “Annabelle, my dear,” she said. “You have forgotten to serve Miss Merriman her tea.”

      “Oh!” said Annabelle, holding her cup daintily. “I was only thinking of the carpet.”

      “The carpet?” asked Miss Manderly.

      “Yes, indeed,” said Annabelle. She put her nose in the air. “I did not serve Felicity because I did not want her to toss the tea out all over your fine carpet.”

      Felicity felt her face getting red.

      “Annabelle!” gasped Miss Manderly. “Apologize at once!”

      “Oh, but Felicity would be proud to toss out her tea,” said Annabelle. “Her father said it was right to toss out tea. He said those hotheads in Yorktown were right to throw the tea into the river.”

      “No!” cried Felicity. “My father didn’t say that! He—”

      “Yes, he did!” snapped Annabelle. “Bitsy heard him. Didn’t you, Bitsy?”

      Elizabeth didn’t say anything.

      “But that’s not what he said,” cried Felicity. “Tell her, Elizabeth!”

      Elizabeth would not look at Felicity.

      Felicity tried to explain. “My father said the men who threw the tea into the river thought that they were right. They did it to show the king that they did not agree with the tax on tea.”

      “Your father disagrees with the king’s tax, too!” said Annabelle. “That’s why he’s not going to sell tea in his store anymore. He is disloyal to the king. Your father is a traitor!”

      “No!” shouted Felicity. “My father is not a traitor!” She jumped up from her chair and knocked against the tea tray. The teapot teetered and the cups and saucers rattled. Felicity grabbed her sampler frame in her fist and ran out of the room. She slammed the door behind her.

      Felicity was in a red rage. Home she stormed, away from Miss Manderly’s prim little house, through the crowded, dusty streets. How could Elizabeth do it? How could she? she kept asking herself. It was Elizabeth she was most angry at. Why didn’t she tell Annabelle the truth? Father was only trying to be fair. Father is not the one who is a traitor, thought Felicity. Elizabeth is the traitor—to me!

      Felicity burst into the house and pounded up the stairs to her room. She curled up on her bed in a tight roll. Her sampler was loosened and wrinkled. She could not think. She was too mad to cry. Anger boiled inside her. Elizabeth was supposed to be her friend. Instead, she let Annabelle tell hateful lies about her father. I hate Annabelle, she thought, and I hate Elizabeth, too. I don’t want to see either of them ever again.

      Felicity heard the door open. “Lissie?” whispered her mother. She sat on the bed and put Felicity’s head in her lap. “What is it, my child?” her mother asked softly. She smoothed Felicity’s hair. “What is it, Lissie?”

      Felicity took a shaky breath. “Elizabeth and Annabelle think Father is a traitor. I don’t want to speak to them ever again,” she said.

      “Ahhhh,” said her mother sadly. “It’s because of the argument about tea, isn’t it?”

      Felicity sat up and nodded.

      Mrs. Merriman sighed. “My poor child,” she said. “I fear there is more of this trouble coming. This talk against the king will cause nothing but sorrow before it is over. It will divide families and destroy friendships, if we let it.” Gently, she took Felicity’s sampler from her hands.

      “Throw that away!” said Felicity. “I hate it. It is full of mistakes.”

      Mrs. Merriman pulled the sampler taut in its frame. “No, my impatient one,” she said calmly. “I see a great deal that’s good in this sampler. It would be a terrible waste to throw it all away because of one mistake or two.” She looked at Felicity. “I think it would be a terrible waste to throw away your friendship with Elizabeth, too, because of one misunderstanding.”

      “How can I be Elizabeth’s friend?” asked Felicity. “She thinks Father is a traitor to the king!”

      “Did

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