to sneeze left her.
At the reception, Sarah saw the owner of the handkerchief again. He was standing alone, looking tall in a brown suit. Jane Hayes in her low bodacious dress drifted toward him, with her shoulders tossed back, her eyes teasing. Sarah watched. She always enjoyed seeing Jane talk to men, observing how she drew them with her smile, her walk, her voice, her eyes. When Jane blinked, she claimed their entire attention. Men were dazzled. Sarah walked closer, pausing at a discreet distance. But the man recognized her and waved. Sarah smiled. He excused himself from Jane and walked toward Sarah.
"Are you all right now, Miss Peale?"
"Fine, thank you. You know my name?"
"Your cousin Rubens told me. We're friends. My name is Ben Blakely."
His eyes were wide, curiously searching hers. "I'd like to thank you properly for the handkerchief," she said, catching his gaze. After a moment she noticed Jane watching them, obviously not very happy about being interrupted. Sarah wondered how long she could hold Mr. Blakely's attention before he wandered back to Jane. She smiled in that teasing way Jane sometimes used. "How long have you known my cousin Rubens?"
"Not long. I've just been out of medical school a few months. I met him in the Musical Society."
You're a doctor then?"
He nodded. "Yes, and I was amazed at how much Rubens and his brother Raphaelle know about science and medicine."
"That's because Uncle Charles has theories on both—and discusses them endlessly, especially with his sons," Sarah said. "Rubens would have learned to paint like his brothers and sisters if his eyes hadn't been so weak. But if he couldn't paint, Uncle Charles taught him other useful arts. Music and botany interested him most."
"I hope I have a chance to meet your uncle," Ben said. "And Rubens tells me another of his brothers opened a museum in Baltimore. I can't imagine it all."
"That's Rembrandt; yes, he's more the artist than the naturalist. I'm going to Baltimore to study French techniques of portrait painting with him."
"You? Don't tell me you're another Peale with surprising talents."
"Very well, I won't tell you." She smiled.
"Can I get you some punch, Miss Peale?"
She took his arm. "Call me Sarah." Jane was still watching, but Sarah pretended not to notice. She liked this Ben Blakely. And as long as he wanted to talk to her, Jane could wait.
Sarah sipped her punch, hoping Ben thought she was accomplished in something besides sneezing. "If you're interested in music, Ben," she said as serenely as possible, "do come to the Museum for our Tuesday singing program. You might find it amusing. Rubens will be there."
"What about you, Sarah? Will you be there, too?"
She hesitated. "I often am."
"I'll be disappointed if you're not there Tuesday next."
She laughed and asked Ben what he thought of the new music of Beethoven. Ben did not even look at Jane after that.
During the next week, Sarah focused on the coming journey to Baltimore. It promised to be almost as interesting as Washington. She was still envious of Anna's good fortune--envious, but glad for Anna. She had earned her chance. Sarah was as aware of that as anyone. The trouble was that by the time she herself deserved such an opportunity, Uncle Charles would be too old to travel much. But she promised herself she wouldn't brood. Baltimore would be wonderful enough. She admired Rembrandt's portraits and would work hard. It should be fun, too. Rembrandt's daughters were about her age and popular in society.
And Baltimore held other curiosities. If she listened and observed carefully, maybe she would discover for herself just how serious the feud was between the Robinsons and the Peales.
All Sarah knew about it was that soon after Charles's oldest daughter Angelica married Alexander Robinson, he made it quite clear he thought Uncle Charles's habits were a disgrace. Exhibiting and selling portraits was bad enough, but to establish a museum and sell tickets to the public to see a collection of worthless junk was more than Alexander Robinson's gentlemanly soul could tolerate, especially in a father-in-law. When he could not persuade Charles to stop such plebeian activities, he took Angelica to Baltimore and kept her there.
Soon after that something happened between Alexander and the family. Sarah had asked for the details, but was told by her father and cousin Raphaelle she was too curious to be told. However, she suspected that Raphaelle was involved. She was determined that while she was in Baltimore she would find out all about the Robinson feud.
Her thoughts kept her awake. She tried to sleep but only became more restless. Though it was late, she crept out of her bed, tiptoed to the hall and quietly opened Anna's bedroom door. Silently she glided across the room and stopped at the edge of Anna's bed, hoping she'd be awake. Anna sat up, stifling a startled gasp. "Sarah, you frightened me, sneaking in like a ghost from the grave."
"Have you been thinking about Washington?"
"A little," Anna said, "just before I dozed off."
"Are you packing party dresses?"
"I should say so. Uncle Charles will get invitations and I want to be ready if I'm included."
"You will be," Sarah said.
"Can I get under the covers?" Sarah said. "The floor is cold."
Anna moved to one edge of the bed and Sarah slid in beside her and pulled the covers over her shoulders. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Oh Anna, aren't we lucky?"
"Mmm, indeed we are. But I shudder to think of painting senators—maybe even the President. I doubt if I'll be able to hold my brush still if and when it comes to that."
"A nose is a nose whether it's a president's or a pickpocket's," Sarah said. "Raphaelle said when he paints a nose he thinks of it as a strawberry on a plate."
Anna laughed. "Raphaelle shouldn't say things like that. He doesn't take himself seriously."
"Oh, I think he does," Sarah whispered back. "Didn't you ever notice his eyes just before he makes a Joke? The joke is for him. If you care too much, he says, you make a mess of things."
"His pranks can be embarrassing."
''He's always kind to me, Anna. Of all Uncle Charles sons, Raphaelle is the kindest, the most gentle, the most talented and the most misunderstood. If I were Patty, I'd be a good wife to him, and maybe he wouldn't have to play so many jokes."
"If you were Patty," Anna said, "you'd have to worry about feeding the children and the boarders. You'd want Raphaelle to paint pictures that people will buy."
Sarah shrugged. "I wonder if I'll see cousin Angelica Robinson when I am in Baltimore."
"Sure, we'll see her. Uncle Charles won't let Alexander Robinson intimidate him."
"I hope not," Sarah said. "I'd like to see for myself how Alexander acts."
"I hope he's busy with his business interests when we call," Anna said. "I don't like rudeness."
"If he's rude, we'll be rude
