‘This time I was somewhat better off. I hired a studio, and set up for myself; but no commissions came, and I was reduced to the lowest depths of poverty again. It was then that your father found me. Chance brought him to my studio, and there his artist’s eye taught him at once the value of my work. He was rich, and he was the leader of a certain art circle in Rome. He took me up, and made me known. Commissions flowed in, and I became prosperous. He introduced me to the beautiful and wealthy young countess, who consented to share my lot, and become the wife of the once penniless sculptor; and as her husband, my name was made, my fortune secure. ‘But I never forgot that to Philip Debenham I owed all my wealth and happiness; I am not ungrateful, and I never was tempted to forget that fact. I saw little of him in later years; but until the close of his life we never ceased to correspond. ‘I knew little of his changed circumstances till the accident of my blindness (Roma will perhaps tell you of that some day; I never speak of it) drove me to seek an asylum in my native country. My wife was dead, and Italy had lost its greatest hold upon me then. I thought I should like to settle near to where my old friend had lived, and to give my Roma the pleasure of friendship with his children. ‘Very much shocked and surprised was I to find that his wealth had all vanished in his lifetime, and that his son was a wanderer on the face of the earth, without money and without the means to make it. My natural lethargy and indolence prevented my taking active steps then in your favour; besides, Maud always kept me informed of your doings; and I knew you were happy in your travels, in the society of your friend. But none the less did I make the resolution that half my wealth should pass to you at my death; and that if you returned home heart-whole and fancy-free, you should marry my Roma, and become my son in deed and truth, as you are in the love my soul bestows on you.’ The blind man paused, as if fatigued by so long a speech, and by the emotions it had called up in his mind. Tor, who had listened intently, now spoke. ‘I think I understand better now. It was to Philip Debenham—my father—that you consider you owe your success in life; and you are anxious that the fruits of it should pass to his son?’