“When you go to Paris and see Mona Lisa, you will understand me better,” he said in conclusion.

Delightful weeks among the Italian lakes and the mountains of Switzerland followed.  Then came September, and it was time to turn their faces homeward.  A week or two was spent in Paris, whose brilliance, fascinating gayety, and beauty almost bewildered them, and in whose great picture-gallery, the Louvre, they reviewed the art-study of the year.

Then they were off to Havre to take a French steamship home.  Mr. Sumner had decided to return with them, and a little later in the fall to go back to Florence to settle all things there,—­to give up his Italian home and studio.  So there was nothing but joy in the setting forth.

* * * * *

“How can we wait a whole week!” exclaimed Bettina, as the two sisters were again unpacking the steamer trunks in their stateroom.  “How long one little week seems when it comes at the end of a year, and lies between us and home!”

Barbara’s thought flew back to the like scene on the Kaiser Wilhelm a year ago, when her mind had been busy with her father’s parting words, and her eyes were very dark with feeling as she spoke:—­

“Have you thought, Betty, how much we are taking back?—­how much more than papa thought or we expected even in our wildest dreams?  All this intimate knowledge of Florence, Rome, and Venice!  All these memories of Italy,—­and her art and history!”

Then after a moment she continued with changed voice:  “And our friendship with Howard!—­and the great gift he gave by which we have been able to get all these beautiful things we are taking home to the dear ones, and by which life is so changed for them and us!—­and—­”

“Barbara!” softly called Mr. Sumner’s voice from the corridor.

“And,” repeated Bettina, archly, with a most mischievous look as her sister hastened from the room to answer the summons.

At last the morning came when the steamship entered New York harbor; and the evening followed which saw the travellers again in their homes,—­which restored Barbara and Bettina to father, mother, brothers, and sisters.  There was no end of joy and smiles and happy talk.

After a little time Robert Sumner came, and Dr. Burnett, taking him by both hands, looked through moist eyes into the face he loved, and had so long missed, saying:—­

“And so you have come home to stay,—­Robert,—­my boy!”

“Yes,” in a glad, ringing voice,—­withdrawing one hand from the doctor’s and putting it into Mrs. Burnett’s eager clasp—­“yes, Barbara and Malcom have brought me home.  Malcom showed me it was my duty to come, and Barbara has made it a delight.”

Epilogue.

Three Years After.