“Then don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“You mean stay on in Paris and make my living as an artist’s model?”

“Not quite as extreme as that.” I had to laugh. “I don’t think artists’ models make enough money to keep them in the style you’re accustomed to. And it seems to me as if most of them become the mistress of the artist who paints them, which I certainly wouldn’t want for you. But you could put off marriage and go to a ladies’ college for more education. My friends went to Vassar and loved every moment of it.”

“I’m afraid I’m not the best student,” she said. “I’d feel stupid in a college of brilliant bluestockings.”

“Then what would you like to do?”

“Live life. Be free. Travel. Make friends. Go dancing.”

The waiter put down two bowls of rabbit fricassee and a basket of bread. “You like to dance?” he asked in broken English. “In Montmartre are many dancing places. You must come to the Moulin de la Galette on Sunday. Dancing en plein air—how you say?”

“Outside?” she asked.

He nodded. “Oui. Very nice. Beside the old windmill. I go there with my friends. You have good time with us. You will come?”

“I don’t know…” she turned to me for approval. “Should I go? Will you come with me?”

“Ellie, I’m a married woman with a baby. I can’t go out dancing.”

“You will be quite safe with us,” he said. “Many many people at the Moulin. All dancing and having good time.”

“It does sound lovely,” she smiled wistfully. “But I don’t know about coming up here alone at night. Is it safe?”

He laughed then. “Mademoiselle, the dancing begins in the afternoon. Of course it continues under the stars but you can depart when you wish. Many families bring picnic. You will have good time, I think.”

She looked at me again. “In the afternoon, Molly. You could bring your baby. It would be fun.”

“Yes, it does sound like fun,” I said. “But I have a lot of things on my mind at the moment. I’ll join you if I can.”

She beamed at him again. “I’ll try to come, even if Molly is an old stick-in-the-mud.”

“I will await you, mademoiselle. My name is Jean. My friends and I we study at the École des Beaux-Arts to be painters.” He paused then added, “And pay for our existence by being waiters.”

Ellie held out her hand to him. “I’m Ellie,” she said and gave him a radiant smile.

Chapter 20

Twenty