"Well, we've got to make the best of it," I answered,

though without much cheer. The sound of our steps

reverberated and echoed in the well of a great staircase.

There was not, as far as I could see, a single article of

furniture in the place.

"Here's something you'll like better, sir,"-and Bates

paused far down the ball and opened a door.

A single candle made a little pool of light in what I

felt to be a large room. I was prepared for a disclosure

of barren ugliness, and waited, in heartsick foreboding,

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for the silent guide to reveal a dreary prison.

"Please sit here, sir," said Bates, "while I make a

better light."

He moved through the dark room with perfect ease,

struck a match, lighted a taper and went swiftly and

softly about. He touched the taper to one candle after

another,-they seemed to be everywhere,-and won

from the dark a faint twilight, that yielded slowly to a

growing mellow splendor of light. I have often watched

the acolytes in dim cathedrals of the Old World set

countless candles ablaze on magnificent altars,-always

with awe for the beauty of the spectacle; but in this

unknown house the austere serving-man summoned

from the shadows a lovelier and more bewildering enchantment.

Youth alone, of beautiful things, is lovelier

than light.

The lines of the walls receded as the light increased,

and the raftered ceiling drew away, luring the eyes upward.

I rose with a smothered exclamation on my lips

and stared about, snatching off my hat in reverence as

the spirit of the place wove its spell about me. Everywhere

there were books; they covered the walls to the

ceiling, with only long French windows and an enormous

fireplace breaking the line. Above the fireplace a

massive dark oak chimney-breast further emphasized

the grand scale of the room. From every conceivable

place-from shelves built for the purpose, from brackets

that thrust out long arms among the books, from a

great crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling, and

from the breast of the chimney-innumerable candles

blazed with dazzling brilliancy. I exclaimed in wonder

and pleasure as Bates paused, his sorcerer's wand in

hand.

"Mr. Glenarm was very fond of candle-light; he

liked to gather up candlesticks, and his collection is

very fine. He called his place 'The House of a Thousand

Candles.' There's only about a hundred here;

but it was one of his conceits that when the house was

finished there would be a thousand lights, he had quite

a joking way, your grandfather. It suited his humor

to call it a thousand. He enjoyed his own pleasantries,

sir."

"I fancy he did," I replied, staring in bewilderment.

"Oil lamps might be more suited to your own taste,

sir. But your grandfather would not have them. Old

brass and copper were specialties with him, and he had

a particular taste, Mr. Glenarm had, in glass candlesticks.

He held that the crystal was most effective of

all. I'll go and let in the baggageman and then serve

you some supper."




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