Snow Shadow by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online

on Tillie’s money even from the grave. He set up a trust fund to buy future relics—if any could be found—for his proposed Austin library. Miss Elizabeth got the house—period. That she has managed to keep going at all is a tribute to her grit and drive. If she can save pennies wearing out her mother’s old frocks—such as she considers suitable—then she will do it. Every cent counts to her, nowadays. I think Emma makes her a small allowance—and expects a big return in service for it”

    “Emma does not sound like a very pleasant neighbor—”
    “She’s a rich bitch!” Theodosia spat “She has abominable manners, the cunning of a peasant without any real intelligence, and the instincts of a Nazi storm trooper. Two months ago she broke her hip and since then she has—luckily—been removed from our horizon. I intend to remove myself before she comes out and back from that superlative nursing home and takes up residence again.” Theodosia spoke with such heat, I could well believe that she had met Emma Horvath head-on in some contest of wills, but she did not enlarge on that last statement.
    However, as we swept up the now-cleared drive leading to Northanger Abbey, I was very much of a mind to move myself as soon as I could locate another place. Nothing Theodosia had told me made the future look pleasant. As we pulled in to stop under the portico, Theodosia exclaimed and pointed.
    Against the massive front door, there hung a spray of evergreen tied with a swag of deep purple ribbon. I blinked. Again time rolled away—the custom of another age confronted us.
    “Who—” Theodosia wondered.
    I was reluctant to raise my hand to the bell near that antiquated sign of dignified and decorous grief. Before I could force myself to that move, the door itself opened, and Preston Donner came out.
    “Miss Jansen—Mrs. Cantrell—” He made his funny, old-fashioned inclination of the head as if he, too, had somehow been touched by the formal air of the past. “Mrs. Horvath is dead.” He spoke abruptly,almost as if he held us somehow to blame for that. I would have expected him to use the usual euphemism of “passed away”—his bald words were out of the character I had built for him.
    “When?” Theodosia asked, as he added nothing to that.
    “Monday night. The funeral is tomorrow. It is very hard on Miss Elizabeth. If you will excuse me—I have an errand—” His briskness was almost rude as he turned away. I wondered if he indeed felt some emotion.
    Theodosia looked at me. “If you can’t stick it here,” she said quickly, “our latchstring is out. Just come over.”
    I thanked her quickly. But I did not intend to become a problem for the Cantrells, even though I might well discover it best to leave Northanger Abbey.
    Inside I fronted Miss Elizabeth herself. As I could have expected, her floor-sweeping dress was black. Above the high collar of that, her face was white, her skin looked like well-worn, grayish parchment, drawn tightly over the good bones. Ill at ease, I muttered condolences, the usual meaningless things one says at such times. Only, looking at Miss Elizabeth, I wished that there was something I could do for her.
    She made a visible effort to retain her usual composure. “Thank you.” Her voice was very remote and cool. “Everything has been arranged. Though I fear we are not serving dinner this evening—”
    “Of course. And perhaps I should arrange other accommodations—”
    “Not at all, Miss Jansen.” Her voice firmed. “Theservice will be held here, since my sister will rest in our private lot. But the ceremony is only for the immediate family. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
    I felt a twinge of shame, for my proposed flight had been really for my benefit, not hers. And by Theodosia’s account, she needed money.
    “Of course you are free to leave—” Did her eyes hold a shadow of a plea? I decided quickly that that was only fancy. But I was forced into a decided