The Bilbao Looking Glass Read Online Free Page A

stay clear of Miffy. But Aunt Appie will enjoy herself. All we have to do is get her nicely planted at the party, then sneak off alone. Once they’ve all poured a few of Miffy’s martinis down the hatch, they won’t know who’s there and who isn’t.”
    “Then how’s she going to get back here?”
    “Somebody will bring her, sooner or later. Don’t look so glum, darling. We’ll work things out one way or another. Come and see your new home. I hope the paint’s dry.”
    Despite her resolution not to spend any money on the Ireson’s Landing place until she knew whether or not she still owned it, Sarah had done a fair amount of titivating in the carriage house. She’d had to. The little apartment over the stalls hadn’t been occupied by a coachman since 1915, and the cobwebs practically had to be hacked through with a machete.
    She and Mr. Lomax had brushed and scrubbed the walls and ceiling then covered the old gray plaster with creamy yellow paint. The exposed beams had been oiled with some magic potion brewed by Mr. Lomax, the battered furniture painted bright red and camouflaged as far as possible with India print throws and cushions. The wide-board pine floor, which was really beyond restoration, had been painted dark green and covered by a braided rug Mrs. Lomax had made some time ago. Mrs. Lomax was laid up with arthritis now, but still pleased to be doing something for Isaac Bittersohn’s boy because she’d always thought a heap of Isaac.
    There wasn’t much they could do about the old-fashioned bathroom except clean it. As to the kitchen, there wasn’t one. Max would take his meals at the big house or, if Kellings got too thick on the ground, go over to Miriam or his mother for a handout.
    Sarah hadn’t got to meet Max’s parents yet. Apparently that wasn’t going to happen until she was ready to affirm without a qualm or a sniffle that she was ready to tie the knot. She wished she were. It would be so much pleasanter to share these two bright rooms with Max than to rattle around with Aunt Appie in that drafty ark on top of the hill. She gave him a rather forlorn smile and went back to finish her own settling-in.

Chapter 3
    “W ELL, SARAH, YOU’RE LOOKING a shade less bedraggled than you did the last time I saw you, though I don’t suppose you’ll ever get over losing Alex. Too bad you never managed to have a child. That would have been some consolation, though probably not much the way they’re all turning out these days. What in God’s name do you think Miffy put in these martinis?”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    Sarah refrained from wishing it were something instantly lethal, and wriggled herself away from Pussy Beaxitt. Max, she noticed, had been cornered by somebody wanting a free appraisal of what was alleged to be a Rembrandt Peale but most likely wasn’t. She trusted he wouldn’t be foolish enough to oblige. She ought to have had brains enough not to drag him here in the first place. She’d forgotten how unspeakably god-awful these gatherings of Miffy’s could be.
    A year ago, she’d have been passively bored instead of actively hating every second she spent here. She’d got used to boredom ages ago, since that had seemed her inescapable lot. First she’d been only Walter Kelling’s daughter, too young to count with the grown-ups and too shy to mingle with any teen-agers who might be around. Then, about the time she might have been making her debut and perhaps arousing a little interest among the stag line, her father had died from eating poisoned mushrooms and she’d married the distant cousin Walter had named as Sarah’s guardian. As Alexander’s wife she’d never got much attention either. Who’d notice quiet little Sarah when they’d always had to take her mother-in-law, the beautiful, blind, intelligent, opinionated Caroline Kelling, with them?
    But she wasn’t little Sarah any more. Sudden widowhood and unexpected crises had pushed her out of the old rut; a long way