"Peggy!" Elizabeth called, a twinge of panic in her voice. The two sisters had been looking for the missing sixteen-year-old for almost fifteen minutes, and despite their best efforts they could not find her. They had asked around, wondering if perhaps someone had seen a grumpy, crying, slightly plump Schuyler on their way to the market, to no avail. She and Angelica were beginning to lose hope.

Angelica, frustrated and becoming more worried by the minute, finally sat down on a bench and buried her head in her hands. When she looked up, there were visible tears in her eyes. "Where is she?"

Eliza sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around Angelica's shoulders. "We will find her. She is just upset, that is all."

"I hate seeing her upset," Angelica said. "Even when I am mad at her."

"I know," Elizabeth said. "She is your sister. It is hard to stay mad at the people you love."

"I feel guilty," Angel said, sniffing and wiping her eyes angrily. "I am the eldest. It is my responsibility to keep the two of you safe.

"Even older sisters mess up sometimes," Eliza said, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her sister's face. "God knows I have. I am an older sister, too."

Angelica gave a watery smile, her usual mischievous look coming back to her eyes. "Like the time you left the barn door open?"

Elizabeth groaned. "And the horses ran away. Father left me to clean the stalls—"

"And sent you to bed with no supper!" Angel finished, laughing. "The look on your face when you came back from the barn. You were so hopeful—"

"And father said simply—"

"Go to your room!" Angelica cackled. "It was so funny."

Eliza scowled playfully. "I was humiliated!"

"It was hilarious!" Angel said, grinning. "You were so upset."

The two giggled, smiling at each other, almost feeling as though nothing was wrong. Eventually their laughter died down, and they continued searching, although their hearts were perhaps a little bit lighter than they had been previously.

"Margarita Schuyler!" Angelica called purposefully, trying to put a little bit of her usual stateliness back in her voice.

"Peggy!" Elizabeth called.

"Margaret!"

"Oh, where are you?" Eliza muttered, then raised her voice. "Peggy, if you do not quit this game of chase this instant we will leave without you—"

"Alright, alright!"

Elizabeth and Angelica whirled around to find themselves face-to-face with their younger sister, still pouting grumpily with her arms crossed over her chest. "Peggy!" Angel cried.

"Margarita Schuyler, if you ever do something like that again, I swear to god I will kill you!" Elizabeth scolded, causing Peggy to blush red with embarrassment.

"I was angry," Margaret said simply, then bit her lip and added, "and I was not being sensible."

Angel gaped at her. Peggy never apologized—this might as well have been a historical moment.

Peggy scowled, her usual look of disgust and distaste reappearing. "What?" she asked, annoyed. "Does my saying sorry frighten you that much?"

Eliza gave a genuinely sincere nod. "Yes, Peggy, it really does."

The youngest Schuyler pouted. "Hmph."

"We should go back to the shoe shop," Angelica said, taking her sisters' hands. "Come on."

Elizabeth nodded, and the three girls walked back down the street.

***

"I do not like them," Margaret said, unbuckling the white leather shoes. "They pinch my feet."

Angelica sighed, exasperated. "You have said that about every pair you have tried."

"Because it is true!" Peggy frowned. "They are all too thin."

"Try these," Eliza said, handing her a pair of white slippers. On the heels, small daisies had been embroidered into the thick leather. The younger girl pulled them on and stood up, trying them out. Then she smiled.

"These are better," she said. "I like them. And I like the flower on the heel."

"Good," Angel said. "Can we get them? We have spent almost an hour here. It is half past one o'clock."

The two nodded, and they purchased the shoes before leaving the store. "Where to next?" Eliza asked, pulling out her map again.

"The dress shop," Angelica replied. "But hurry up. We need to be home by sundown, and at this rate it looks like we might not make it."