When Hortense arrived from Monte Carlo, she made the necessary arrangements. She was quiet and efficient. At the funeral, she ensured that there were two dozen clients, and various people who had been involved with his charitable works, including even Jules Blanchard. It was a dignified gathering that would have gratified her father very much. In the funeral address, which was given by the priest who attended the home, the facts of Ney’s ancestry were rehearsed—including even a hint that he might have been related to Voltaire—as well as his indefatigable efforts to secure the comfort and happiness of all those in his care.

Not the least of Ney’s achievements, it was now discovered, was to have secured a grave in the cemetery of Père Lachaise. Not quite in the avenue where his distinguished relation’s grave had been placed—among other great Napoleonic military men—but within sight of it.

Soon after the interment, Hortense departed for the south again, having instructed Adeline and Édith to run everything exactly as usual until her return in May.

It was not until the second week of May that Hortense came back from Monte Carlo. To their surprise, she arrived in the company of a very handsome olive-skinned gentleman named Monsieur Ivanov who, she explained, was her financial advisor.

“Ivanov: That’s a Russian name, isn’t it?” Aunt Adeline asked him.

“It is Russian,” he replied, “but my mother was Tunisian.”

Monsieur Ivanov had sleek black hair, brushed back, and his clothes were perfectly tailored. He said little, but he was always at Hortense’s side.

Hortense stayed in her father’s house for a month. She looked in at the home most days. Aunt Adeline told her that her father had desired to have a celebration when Mademoiselle Bac was a hundred, but Hortense said she was very busy and that it would have to wait.

One day she came by with a middle-aged couple and spent two hours looking over the building, inspecting every room.

It was the middle of June when Hortense called in one fine evening. Thomas and Édith were sitting with Aunt Adeline in her room, after putting their children to bed.

“I have news for you,” Hortense said. “I am returning to Monte Carlo immediately. The home has been sold. The new owners have no need of any help, however, so you will all have to leave. The new owners will take over tomorrow, but you can stay another two weeks.”

“But we have nowhere to go,” Thomas protested.

“You have two entire weeks.” She shrugged. “That should be plenty of time to find something. At least temporary.” She turned to Monsieur Ivanov. “There is a picture of me in the hall. Take that. It belongs to me. I have to go and say good-bye to one of the residents now.”