Chapter 11: Promises and Warnings
With her heart’s knot untied, Julia got better day by day. When she married, the ten-mile wedding procession stunned all of Hamilton. Though the Farr family was strict, Mr. Farr was attentive, never taking a mistress even after Julia had two daughters. For a while, “If you marry, marry a Connelly girl” became the word among Hamilton’s young men; even the maids in our house were more sought after than the daughters of ordinary officials.
Mom became stricter with me, gradually letting me manage the household. The day news came of the death of the Dowager Lady of Savannah, Mom deliberately tested me. While the Dowager was devout in life, it would be appropriate to send a set of gold-embossed Bibles as a memorial. She watched me arrange the condolence note, measuring my handwriting, my choice of words, and how I signed our family name—a tiny rite of passage on a Tuesday in a house that expected nothing less than perfection from its daughters.
As I signed our family name—steady hand, perfect script—I realized: every letter was a promise, and a warning.