The House of a Thousand Candles | Page 3

money. They imagine that every
kindness, every ordinary courtesy shown them, is merely a bid for a
slice of the cake. I'm disappointed in my grandfather. He was a
splendid old man, though God knows he had his queer ways. I'll bet a
thousand dollars, if I have so much money in the world, that this
scheme is yours, Pickering, and not his. It smacks of your ancient
vindictiveness, and John Marshall Glenarm had none of that in his
blood. That stipulation about my residence out there is fantastic. I don't
have to be a lawyer to know that; and no doubt I could break the will;
I've a good notion to try it, anyhow."
"To be sure. You can tie up the estate for half a dozen years if you
like," he replied coolly. He did not look upon me as likely to become a
formidable litigant. My staying qualities had been proved weak long
ago, as Pickering knew well enough.
"No doubt you would like that," I answered. "But I'm not going to give
you the pleasure. I abide by the terms of the will. My grandfather was a
fine old gentleman. I shan't drag his name through the courts, not even
to please you, Arthur Pickering," I declared hotly.
"The sentiment is worthy of a good man, Glenarm," he rejoined.
"But this woman who is to succeed to my rights--I don't seem to
remember her."

"It is not surprising that you never heard of her."
"Then she's not a connection of the family--no long-lost cousin whom I
ought to remember?"
"No; she was a late acquaintance of your grandfather's. He met her
through an old friend of his-- Miss Evans, known as Sister Theresa.
Miss Devereux is Sister Theresa's niece."
I whistled. I had a dim recollection that during my grandfather's long
widowerhood there were occasional reports that he was about to marry.
The name of Miss Evans had been mentioned in this connection. I had
heard it spoken of in my family, and not, I remembered, with much
kindness. Later, I heard of her joining a Sisterhood, and opening a
school somewhere in the West.
"And Miss Devereux--is she an elderly nun, too?"
"I don't know how elderly she is, but she isn't a nun at present. Still,
she's almost alone in the world, and she and Sister Theresa are very
intimate."
"Pass the will again, Pickering, while I make sure I grasp these
diverting ideas. Sister Theresa isn't the one I mustn't marry, is she? It's
the other ecclesiastical embroidery artist--the one with the x in her
name, suggesting the algebra of my vanishing youth."
I read aloud this paragraph:
Provided, further, that in the event of the marriage of said John
Glenarm to the said Marian Devereux, or in the event of any promise or
contract of marriage between said persons within five years from the
date of said John Glenarm's acceptance of the provisions of this will,
the whole estate shall become the property absolutely of St. Agatha's
School, at Annandale, Wabana County, Indiana, a corporation under
the laws of said state.
"For a touch of comedy commend me to my grandfather! Pickering,

you always were a well-meaning fellow--I'll turn over to you all my
right, interest and title in and to these angelic Sisters. Marry! I like the
idea! I suppose some one will try to marry me for my money. Marriage,
Pickering, is not embraced in my scheme of life!"
"I should hardly call you a marrying man," he observed.
"Perfectly right, my friend! Sister Theresa was considered a possible
match for my grandfather in my youth. She and I are hardly
contemporaries. And the other lady with the fascinating algebraic
climax to her name--she, too, is impossible; it seems that I can't get the
money by marrying her. I'd better let her take it. She's as poor as the
devil, I dare say."
"I imagine not. The Evanses are a wealthy family, in spots, and she
ought to have some money of her own if her aunt doesn't coax it out of
her for educational schemes."
"And where on the map are these lovely creatures to be found?"
"Sister Theresa's school adjoins your preserve; Miss Devereux has I
think some of your own weakness for travel. Sister Theresa is her
nearest relative, and she occasionally visits St. Agatha's--that's the
school."
"I suppose they embroider altar-cloths together and otherwise labor
valiantly to bring confusion upon Satan and his cohorts. Just the people
to pull the wool over the eyes of my grandfather!"
Pickering smiled at my resentment.
"You'd better give them a wide berth; they might catch you in their net.
Sister Theresa is said to have quite a winning way. She certainly
plucked your grandfather."
"Nuns in spectacles, the gentle educators of