“I am in a cavalry regiment, monsieur. So, yes. As for the western saddle, ever since Buffalo Bill was here, everyone wants to try it.”

From the far end of the table, Jules Blanchard gently intervened.

“Monsieur de Cygne is too modest to say it,” he said, “but I happen to know from his father that he almost made the elite Cadre Noir team. That means, Hadley, that he’s one of the best horsemen in France.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said the aristocrat, but Hadley could see that he didn’t mind the compliment. He noticed that Marie was impressed, as well.

It seemed to Hadley that he’d provided quite a useful diversion from whatever Marc and his father had been quarreling about. Everyone seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

But now Gérard had a question.

“Tell me, Monsieur Hadley, if you fail to make a career as a painter, what will you do then? Will you work?”

“Ah non!” cried Aunt Éloïse. “Assez, Gérard. Enough.”

Hadley laughed.

“I see you like to get to the point,” he said good-humoredly. “And it’s a fair question. My father’s been generous, and I’m going to give it all I’ve got for a few years. But if I can’t really achieve anything, then I think I’ll go into business. And I believe I know what business I’d like to get into.”

“Dry goods?”

“No. Motor cars. I think they have a huge future. Just in the last year or two, Ford in America, Benz in Germany, Peugeot in France, have all started turning from steam cars to the internal combustion engine. I believe that’s going to be a very exciting business.”

Gérard seemed impressed. De Cygne looked thoughtful.

“I know one or two rich men who want motor cars,” the aristocrat remarked, “as a rich man’s toy, of course. But you think in America it will go further than that?”

“Not yet awhile. But within a generation, I suspect so. And not just in America. All over the world.”

This thought silenced the whole table for a moment. But Jules Blanchard was looking at Hadley with particular approval, and thinking that this was just the friend that Marc needed to give him some balance and steadiness.

Fox had contented himself with offering instant translations so far, but now he entered the conversation. He was an interesting-looking fellow, Frank thought. Nearly as tall as himself, but more sparely built and with the quiet face of a professional man.

“The great change in transport that we’re about to see in Paris,” he informed Hadley, “is the Métro. They won’t start tunneling until late this year—the French are years behind the Americans and the English, I’m afraid, but the plans are very extensive. Now it’s happening, the whole network may come very fast.”

“And don’t forget the designs for the entrances and exits,” Marc added. “The plans are for the most lovely Art Nouveau metalwork. It’s going to be elegant.”