Of course. Who knows what will happen if she's drunk.

Rebecca grits her teeth. Frustrating that just as she's talking with a gentleman, Alice goes and makes a fool of herself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vickery, but will you excuse me?" she asks, giving the dark-haired man a smile. "I'm afraid I don't quite feel myself..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you unwell? Do you need help?"

"No, no...a breath of fresh air is all I shall need, I'm certain," Rebecca says with a smile. "Thank you, very much. I hope I get the chance to speak with you again soon."

He nods curtly. "Ma'am."

Wending her way around the side of the ballroom, Rebecca moves quickly toward her younger sister, who is chattering away to a couple of girls her own age by the punch bowl. "Alice, darling, may I speak with you?" she asks brightly. "Come out here on the terrace..."

"What is it, Rebecca?" Alice asks cheerily as they move out the French doors and into the cool night air on the house's terrace. She lets out a little yelp as Rebecca seizes her punch cup from her and dumps it into one of the potted plants.

"You're drinking entirely too much," Rebecca hisses, glancing around to make sure no one nearby is going to overhear their conversation. "I swear, Alice, it's like you never learned self-control."

"That's not true!" Alice hisses back, clearly outraged. "I most certainly could control myself if I wanted to. This is a party, Rebecca! You're supposed to drink punch at a party!"

"Not two glasses in half an hour, you're not," Rebecca says tartly. She thrusts the cup back into Alice's hands and smiles warmly for a passing elderly couple. As soon as they're gone her smile drops. "Look, Alice, I know you want to have a good time. I do too. But remember that if you drink so much you make yourself look ridiculous, it will reflect badly on all of us. Just...try to keep yourself under control. All right?"

Alice pouts slightly, folding her arms, but sighs. "Very well. I won't drink more until the last dance. Happy?"

Rebecca chuckles and strokes her cheek. "Very. I'm sorry to be so harsh, Al. But you have to be careful...people take advantage of drunk girls, you know."

"Heh. Oh, I know," Alice says with a little chuckle. Rebecca chooses not to pull on that particular strand.

"Come on, let's go back into the party," she says instead, drawing Alice's arm into hers. Alice smiles wanly at her as they proceed back into the noise and light of the ballroom.

***

On the other side of the ballroom, Peggy is sipping idly from her punch cup and letting her eyes rove the room. She so loves parties, but whenever she gets separated from Alice, they're a little...well...it's hard for her to find her way through them, at times. Still - she squares her shoulders - she's a young woman, and it's time that she started striking out to approach people on her own. If Anne ever gets married, she'll be...well...third in line. Still; she'd like to meet a man, for the thrill of it if nothing else.

Letting her gaze wander, Peggy spots two men who seem to be momentarily alone: a red-coated army officer, a Captain if she's remembering the insignia correctly, with unruly dark hair and whiskers. {If Simmons-Alice > 0}Alice pointed him out to her earlier - a Captain Simmons, if Peggy remembers correctly. {endif}There's also a slightly disheveled looking young man with a poof of untidy brown hair and a smirk on his lips, standing alone and sweeping the ballroom with his own eyes over the rim of his punch cup. He looks intriguing, but perhaps also a little...risque?