“We’ll follow in a cab,” said Gérard.

“So, Hadley,” said Aunt Éloïse with a smile, as the carriage rolled away, “you have been working hard at your painting in France for many months now, and I have never asked you: Are you satisfied with your visit so far? Are you finding what you hoped for?”

“Thanks to this fellow here”—Hadley indicated Marc—“and the kindness of his family, I’ve been more fortunate than I could have dared to hope. Many people come to France and see it from outside, but by getting to know a family, I’ve already learned far more about France than most people do.”

“This is probably true in any country,” said Aunt Éloïse, “but it is especially true in France. And tell me—honestly, I beg you—how you like it here.”

“Oh, I’m in love with it,” Hadley said simply.

“You are?” said Marie.

“I don’t mean that France has no faults. I find people a little too obsessed by their history. But the culture has so much charm, that’s understandable. And nobody can call France old-fashioned. A little slow to adopt mechanical inventions, maybe. But all the new artistic and philosophical ideas are happening here. That’s why all the young American artists come piling in.”

“And what of your own painting?” asked Aunt Éloïse. “Are you making progress?”

“Some.” He hesitated, then smiled a little ruefully. “Not enough.”

“You have talent,” Marc assured him.

“A little, Marc. But not enough. That’s what I’ve learned. I shall study painting all my life, but I’m not going to be a painter. That’s what I needed to find out, and I’ve seen so much already that I know my limitations. I’m not disappointed. I just needed to know.”

“Too soon to give up,” said Marc. “Tell him so, Marie.”

“I watched Hadley working in Fontainebleau and I was very impressed,” said Marie. “But I’d rather know what he thinks.”

“I’ve decided that I want to live a life more like my father’s. I don’t want to go into business, as I’d thought I might. I want to live in the same world that you and your aunt do, Marc. If I apply myself, there will be positions I could take in art schools or universities in America. That would allow me free time to do my own work and travel in the summer. I mightn’t get rich, but I’m fortunate. I’ll have enough private income to get by.”

“You could have a house in France and spend your summers here,” said Marie.

“I could certainly do that,” said Hadley. He smiled. “Sounds a pretty good idea.”

They had reached the gates of the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont.

“Marc, wait here for Gérard and his friend,” said Aunt Éloïse. “Then take them up to the little temple at the top of the park, where we shall meet you.” And with that she swept Hadley and Marie away.