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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HOUSE OF A THOUSAND CANDLES ***

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