At the end of a secluded driveway in Elkins Park, a rare Gilded Age jewel is poised to enter its third life.

Preserved by nuns to a degree historians find stunning, a century-old Italian Renaissance mansion built by tycoon William Lukens Elkins is on the verge of changing hands for the first time in 75 years.

In its new incarnation, it will be a yoga and spirituality focused center for a charity founded by Hare Krishna devotees.

That plan, which received zoning approval this month, would keep the property largely intact. Its fate could have been far less grand. Other prospective buyers had eyed the 42-acre tract as a housing development. Like the decaying Widener Estate, just across Ashbourne Road behind a rusting fence, it could have been carved up.

Elkins, who made a fortune in oil and streetcars, built the estate as a summer place.

The two Horace Trumbauer-designed homes on the property - the 64,000-square-foot mansion Elkins named Elstowe Park and the smaller Chelten House, where Elkins' son lived - will become an event center for banquets and conventions and a yoga center run by Food for All, a social-service organization which publicly downplays its Hare Krishna connection.

"We pretty much plan to keep [the estate] the way it is," said David Dobson, CEO of Food for All. "It's kind of the best use of trying to save the historic site, not changing things."

The Sisters of St. Catherine de Rici were easily won over by Dobson's plans to preserve the estate, even though Food for All spent months searching for loans for more than half the $8.5 million it needs for the purchase. Following this month's nationwide financial meltdown, the group is returning to the nuns, asking them to self-mortgage the transaction. The two sides are still negotiating, but spoke optimistically about making the deal work.

"We had tried to encourage anyone who talked to us to consider retaining the main manor house and also Chelten House," said Sister Carolyn Krebs, president of the congregation, "because of their artistic values."

For over a year, the property, informally called the Dominican Retreat, had been on the market after the sisters found they could no longer maintain the place themselves as their ranks thinned and aged. "We had to hire people to take the roles that the sisters could no longer fulfill," Krebs said, "and the salaries became an obstacle to us."

So had the cost of maintaining the historic houses, which also daunted prospective buyers. Most liked the land but couldn't figure out a profitable use for the two mansions.

A potential sale to a development company fell through in 2007, and the nuns began to auction the fixtures.

Enter Dobson, who was driving by, saw the auction sign and got curious.

He saw tapestries being removed from the walls, bought them on the spot, then began looking around. For about $500,000, he bought what he estimates as about 95 percent of the house's contents, including a 12-foot-tall, 315-year-old grandfather clock worth $350,000.

He kept looking at what he had stumbled into and, transfixed, made an offer on the entire estate.

"A lot of people thought I was out of my mind," Dobson said, "but some things are meant to happen."

News that his charity had a purchase agreement was not universally hailed. Cheltenham Township officials had been wary of what might succeed the long-established convent on such a large tract of land.

Although Food for All's stated plan was to preserve the estate's buildings, rather than raze them to build housing, township officials still paused.

Food for All's multimillion dollar budget is funded in part by government contracts and grants for offering food and shelter to ex-convicts and the homeless in Philadelphia. So township zoning officials made the group agree not to house "the homeless, registered sex offenders, parolees, former offenders and their families, or drug, alcohol and/or substance-abuse addicts" on the property, according to zoning meeting minutes.

Food for All's religious connection, though, was never directly mentioned by the township, the charity's staffers said. And despite a history of controversies over Hare Krishna practitioners' clamorous public demonstrations by monks in colorful robes, the nuns have been similarly unconcerned.

"Hare Krishna has gone through a change, a dramatic change," Krebs said.

Dobson told the New York Times in 2001 the charity had "put in the closet a lot of our religious philosophy" as a compromise to make cooperating with government officials and corporations easier. He does business in slacks and a button-down shirt and, in an interview about Food for All's goals, did not mention religion until directly asked.

"The organization is a standalone, non-religious nonprofit," Dobson said. "We've had that arm's-length transaction."

In Dobson's description, running the Elkins estate nondenominationally helps the finances make sense.

He envisions using the larger house to host "a lot of conferences and a lot of educational opportunities" focusing on wellness issues, including obesity and senior health. One outbuilding the nuns used for elder care would go back to that purpose, while another would become administrative offices.

Plans also envision renting out the mansion to large wedding parties, which Dobson views as a natural fit for the mansion's collection of grand, lavish rooms.

From the marble pillars of its two-story reception hall to the gold leaf-accented walls of the music room, the old estate retains many rich details that appear to need little, if any, restoration work.

Among those astonished by its lasting grandeur is University of Pennsylvania architecture professor Randall F. Mason, who is using the estate as a case study for a historic-preservation class this fall.

"It is an extraordinary place," Mason said. "The whole place has a really wonderful feel to it. It has got a lot of value beyond being just the work of a great architect."

Mason called Dobson's vision for preserving the estate "a fascinating venture" and spoke approvingly of how the entire estate would continue to be preserved intact.

"It's got a lot of promise and potential," Mason said of the plan.

Dobson said his charity hopes to take formal possession of the estate before the end of the year and begin restoration work before winter sets in.

Two holes in a stained-glass skylight over a double curved staircase illustrate how frail a century-old architectural treasure can be - and how much care the nuns exercised to keep the place in pristine shape for 75 years.

"One of the preservationists we met with told us it would only take one season of improper heating to harm the house immensely," said Rod Marinelli, Dobson's assistant.