Cover

The Library of Indiana Classics

There is something jaunty in a tam-o’-shanter, particularly a red one Page 79

Title Page

The House of a Thousand Candles

By

Meredith Nicholson

With Illustrations by
Howard Chandler Christy

Indiana University Press

Dedication

To Bargaret By Sister

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I THE WILL OF JORN 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

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.