Paris: The Novel

emotional life, and because he was so clearly a nice man, Marie felt more contented during his stay than she had for some time, and was sorry to see him depart.

    Later in July, Aunt Éloïse came down for a few days. She enjoyed that. While she was there, a letter came from Marc. He and Hadley were getting along famously. They were both very productive, he reported. And the company was excellent.
    What did he mean by that? Who was Hadley seeing? She could only wonder.
    “Do you think we should pay them a visit?” she asked Aunt Éloïse.
    “It means going to Paris first and then up to Normandy.”
    “That’s not so far.”
    “I’ll think about it. Perhaps I can arrange for you to see Marc without going to Normandy,” she said. But this was not quite what Marie wanted to hear.

    In the month of August, all the inhabitants of Paris who were able to do so deserted the city. Jules announced that he would spend the entire month at Fontainebleau.
    It was a week into August when he informed them that Fox was coming by.
    “He wanted to stop on his way down to Burgundy. Naturally I said he’s welcome.”
    They were all glad to see him, but the manner of his arrival took them by surprise. For instead of a cab from the station, it was a cart that trundled through the iron gates into the courtyard. While the driver and his assistant went to the back of the cart, Fox got down looking pleased with himself.
    “Are your bags so heavy?” Jules inquired.
    “Not exactly. I have something for you.”
    And then, down a ramp from the back of the cart, manhandled with some difficulty by the driver and his mate, there came a garden roller.
    “Mon Dieu!”
cried Jules. “I can’t believe it. Look at this,” he cried to Marie and her mother. “
Mon cher ami
, where the devil did you get it?”
    “From England of course. I had it shipped.”
    Marie laughed out loud. One had to love him.
    And he insisted on giving them a demonstration of how to use it.
    “If you do it right,” he explained, “it’s wonderful for strengthening all your muscles and stretching the back.”
    It was half an hour later, entering the empty salon while Fox and her father were on the veranda, that Marie heard a few words of conversation that she did not understand.
    “Everything is fine. Our young friend will soon be installed in London. As for the banker and his wife, they are delighted. Their daughter is a lucky girl.”
    “Should I meet them? I feel I should like to.”
    “I strongly advise against it.”
    “You’re right. I am very grateful to you.”
    “Our firm is there to provide service to all our clients. But I think the business has gone well.” He paused. “I must catch a train shortly. May I have the pleasure of calling in on you on my return? I shall want to inspect the lawn.”
    “We look forward to it.”
    After he had gone, Marie asked her father if Fox had also come to transact business.
    “Yes. A piece of English business I had, as it happens. He’s a good man.” He didn’t elaborate further, and she didn’t ask.
    She did not hear a murmured conversation between her parents in their bedroom that night, however.
    “I like Fox,” said Jules. “It’s a pity he’s a Protestant.”
    “So do I,” agreed his wife. “But he’s Protestant, all the same.”
    “Yes. It’s a pity, though.”

    Nor did she hear a conversation a few days later when her aunt arrived to see her father.
    “My dear Jules, it’s time to forgive your son.”
    “Why?”
    “The Petit girl is installed in England. Her daughter is safely born and she has been adopted by a charming family like our own. Our troubles in this matter are over. The Petit family have disowned their daughter, which I consider an abomination, but sadly it’s what many others would have done. The conventions of society are cruel. But Marc has been punished enough. God knows he has done nothing worse than many other young men of his age.”
    “He hasn’t been punished at all.”
    “Of course he has.”
    “He seems to live quite well, after I stopped his allowance.”
    “He gets commissions.”
    Jules looked at his sister affectionately.
    “How much are you giving him, Éloïse?”
    “If I were, I wouldn’t tell you.”
    “He’s not suffering at all.”
    “He is suffering by being deprived of his father and mother.”
    “It must be killing him.”
    “More than you know. He loves you.”
    “I’ll think about it.”

    Marc and Hadley arrived at