The House of a Thousand Candles

House of a Thousand Candles, by Meredith Nicholson

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Title: The House of a Thousand Candles
Author: Meredith Nicholson
Release Date: May 26, 2004 [EBook #12441]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
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Produced by Jeffrey Kraus-yao

The House of a Thousand Candles
Meredith Nicholson

The House of a Thousand Candles
By Meredith Nicholson Author of The Main Chance Zelda Dameron, Etc.
With Illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy
"So on the morn there fell new tidings and other adventures" Malory

1905
November

To Margaret My Sister

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
The Will of John Marshall Glenarm II A Face at Sherry's III The House of a Thousand Candles IV A Voice From the Lake V A Red Tam-O'-Shanter VI The Girl and the Canoe VII The Man on the Wall VIII A String of Gold Beads IX The Girl and the Rabbit X An Affair With the Caretaker XI I Receive a Caller XII I Explore a Passage XIII A Pair of Eavesdroppers XIV The Girl in Gray XV I Make an Engagement XVI The Passing of Olivia XVII Sister Theresa XVIII Golden Butterflies XIX I Meet an Old Friend XX A Triple Alliance XXI Pickering Serves Notice XXII The Return of Marian Devereux XXIII The Door of Bewilderment XXIV A Prowler of The Night XXV Besieged XXVI The Fight in the Library XXVII Changes and Chances XXVIII Shorter Vistas XXIX And So the Light Led Me

The House of a Thousand Candles
CHAPTER I
THE WILL OF JOHN MARSHALL GLENARM
Pickering's letter bringing news of my grandfather's death found me at Naples early in October. John Marshall Glenarm had died in June. He had left a will which gave me his property conditionally, Pickering wrote, and it was necessary for me to return immediately to qualify as legatee. It was the merest luck that the letter came to my hands at all, for it had been sent to Constantinople, in care of the consul-general instead of my banker there. It was not Pickering's fault that the consul was a friend of mine who kept track of my wanderings and was able to hurry the executor's letter after me to Italy, where I had gone to meet an English financier who had, I was advised, unlimited money to spend on African railways. I am an engineer, a graduate of an American institution familiarly known as "Tech," and as my funds were running low, I naturally turned to my profession for employment.
But this letter changed my plans, and the following day I cabled Pickering of my departure and was outward bound on a steamer for New York. Fourteen days later I sat in Pickering's office in the Alexis Building and listened intently while he read, with much ponderous emphasis, the provisions of my grandfather's will. When he concluded, I laughed. Pickering was a serious man, and I was glad to see that my levity pained him. I had, for that matter, always been a source of annoyance to him, and his look of distrust and rebuke did not trouble me in the least.
I reached across the table for the paper, and he gave the sealed and beribboned copy of John Marshall Glenarm's will into my hands. I read it through for myself, feeling conscious meanwhile that Pickering's cool gaze was bent inquiringly upon me. These are the paragraphs that interested me most:
I give and bequeath unto my said grandson, John Glenarm, sometime a resident of the City and State of New York, and later a vagabond of parts unknown, a certain property known as Glenarm House, with the land thereunto pertaining and hereinafter more particularly described, and all personal property of whatsoever kind thereunto belonging and attached thereto--the said realty lying in the County of Wabana in the State of Indiana-- upon this condition, faithfully and honestly performed:
That said John Glenarm shall remain for the period of one year an occupant of said Glenarm House and my lands attached thereto, demeaning himself meanwhile in an orderly and temperate manner. Should he fail at any time during said year to comply with this provision, said property shall revert to my general estate and become, without reservation, and without necessity for any process of law, the property, absolutely, of Marian Devereux, of the County and State of New York.
"Well," he demanded, striking his hands upon the arms of his chair, "what do you think of it?"
For the life of me I could not help laughing again. There was, in the first place, a delicious irony in the fact that I should