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Rh "But how in the world can it be done?" asked Porthos, delighted.

"Monsieur," said Molière, bowing, "if you will deign to follow me, you will see."

Aramis observed this scene with all his eyes. Perhaps he fancied, from D'Artagnan's liveliness, that he would leave with Porthos, so as not to lose the conclusion of a scene so well begun. But, clear-sighted as he was, Aramis deceived himself. Porthos and Molière left together alone. D'Artagnan remained with Percerin. Why? From curiosity, doubtless; probably to enjoy a little longer the society of his good friend, Aramis. As Molière and Porthos disappeared, D'Artagan drew near the bishop of Vannes, a proceeding which appeared particularly to disconcert him.

"A dress for you, also, is it not, my friend?"

Aramis smiled.

"No," said he.

"You will go to Vaux, however?"

"I shall go, but without a new dress. You forget, dear D'Artagnan, that a poor bishop of Vannes is not rich enough to have new dresses for every fête."

"Bah!" said the musketeer, laughing, "and do we write no more poems now, either?"

"Oh, D'Artagnan!" exclaimed Aramis, "I have long given over all these follies."

"True," repeated D'Artagnan, only half-convinced.

As for Percerin, he had relapsed into his contemplation of the brocades.

"Don't you perceive," said Aramis, smiling, "that we are greatly boring this good gentleman, my dear D'Artagnan?"

"Ah! ah!" murmured the musketeer, aside; "that is, I am boring you, my friend." Then, aloud, "Well, then, let us leave; I have no further business here, and if you are as disengaged as I, Aramis"

"No, not I—I wished"

"Ah! you had something particular to say to Monsieur Percerin? Why did you not tell me so at once?"

"Something particular, certainly," repeated Aramis; "but not for you, D'Artagnan. But, at the same time, I hope you will believe that I can never have anything so particular to say that a friend like you may not hear it."

"Oh, no, no! I am going," said D'Artagnan, imparting to his voice an evident tone of curiosity; for Aramis' annoyance, well dissembled as it was, had not a whit escaped him; and he knew that, in that impenetrable mind, every