Polytechnique--his father left him with his grandmother in Paris, to
rest. During this time he went to lectures on the social sciences,
finally completing his education, which was strictly French, not one day
having been passed with any foreign teacher. After this he traveled with
his mother and sisters, leading the life of the well-to-do young man who
has plenty of time in which to plan his future. Was he thinking of his
future at all? The question occurred to his father who, worried at the
thought of his son's idleness, recalled him and interrogated him as to
his ideas of a future career, fully expecting to receive one of those
undecided answers so often given by young men under similar
circumstances. But Georges replied, as if it were the most natural thing
in the world, and no other could ever have been considered:

"Aviator."

This reply was surprising. What could have led him to a determination
apparently so sudden?

"That is not a career," he was told. "Aviation is still only a sport.
You travel in the air as a motorist rides on the highways. And after
passing a few years devoted to pleasure, you hire yourself to some
constructor. No, a thousand times no!"

Then he said to his father what he had never said to anybody, and what
his comrade Constantin had merely suspected:

"That is my sole passion. One morning in the courtyard at Stanislas I
saw an airplane flying. I don't know what happened to me: I felt an
emotion so profound that it was almost religious. You must believe me
when I ask your permission to be an aviator."