Meantime Mrs. Stanhope, after much deliberation, and with considerable reluctance, for she was not accustomed to change a resolution once made, had come to a decision with regard to Fani’s future, quite at variance with her former plans, which had been to bring him up with a knowledge of business, with a view to his becoming steward of her estates.

One evening she was sitting with the two children in the parlor after supper; for they no longer went out on the terrace at this hour, since the days were growing shorter and Elsli must not be out after sundown.  The children were chatting gayly, on various subjects, when Mrs. Stanhope, who had been reading, laid down her book, and said:—­

“Come and sit by me, Fani; let us have a little talk together.  That unfortunate expedition of yours on the river, and what you said when you told me about it, seemed to show that your heart was fully set on becoming an artist.  Is it so still? or was it only a passing fancy?  Are you sure that you have thought long enough about it to be certain of yourself?”

Fani grew crimson.  He hesitated an instant, and then said:—­

“Yes; I have thought about it and wished for it a long, long time; and the more I draw, the more I care for it.  But I am willing to think no more about it; and I will do whatever you wish, to the very best of my ability.”

“I have been talking to your teacher,” continued Mrs. Stanhope, “and he says, if your industry and perseverance are as great as your talent, you will be a successful artist.  And as you care so much about it, I am sure you will be persevering.  So I have decided to take you with us to Florence this winter, where you will have good instruction in drawing, and also the benefit of the galleries.  You will go on with your studies too, for I want you to be a well educated man as well as an artist, and you are too young yet to give up school-work.  If you do well, and at the end of a year or two still persevere in your desire to become a painter, you shall go to an art-school, at Duesseldorf or somewhere else, and take a course of several years.  There you will find out just how much you can do, and after that we will decide what is best for our young artist.”

Fani sprang to his feet and stood speechless before his kind benefactress.  When he tried to speak, tears came instead of the words he meant to utter.

Mrs. Stanhope saw his emotion with far more satisfaction than if he had overwhelmed her with thanks.

“Now,” she said to herself, “he is certainly in earnest.”

“Meanwhile,” she continued aloud, “we shall often be with you, Elsli and I, sometimes at home, or wherever it is best for us to spend the winters.  In summer we shall be all together here.  You are my own children now; and I shall do for you just as I should have done for my Philo and Nora if they had stayed with me.”

Tears stood in Mrs. Stanhope’s eyes, but she smiled too, as she held out her arms to the children, and drew them, radiant with joy and gratitude, into a mother’s embrace.