ut for Belle-Isle, instructing Mouston (so as always
to have, in every event, a pattern of every fashion) to have a coat made
for himself every month."

"And did Mouston neglect complying with your instructions? Ah! that was
anything but right, Mouston."

"No, monsieur, quite the contrary; quite the contrary!"

"No, he never forgot to have his coats made; but he forgot to inform me
that he had got stouter!"

"But it was not my fault, monsieur! your tailor never told me."

"And this to such an extent, monsieur," continued Porthos, "that the
fellow in two years has gained eighteen inches in girth, and so my last
dozen coats are all too large, from a foot to a foot and a half."

"But the rest; those which were made when you were of the same size?"

"They are no longer the fashion, my dear friend. Were I to put them on,
I should look like a fresh arrival from Siam; and as though I had been
two years away from court."

"I understand your difficulty. You have how many new suits?
nine? thirty-six? and yet not one to wear. Well, you must have a
thirty-seventh made, and give the thirty-six to Mouston."

"Ah! monsieur!" said Mouston, with a gratified air. "The truth is, that
monsieur has always been very generous to me."

"Do you mean to insinuate that I hadn't that idea, or that I was
deterred by the expense? But it wants only two days to the _fete_; I
received the invitation yesterday; made Mouston post hither with my
wardrobe, and only this morning discovered my misfortune; and from now
till the day after to-morrow, there isn't a single fashionable tailor
who will undertake to make me a suit."

"That is to say, one covered all over with gold, isn't it?"

"I wish it so! undoubtedly, all over."

"Oh, we shall manage it. You won't leave for three days. The invitations
are for Wednesday, and this is only Sunday morning."

"'Tis true; but Aramis has strongly advised me to be at Vaux twenty-four
hours beforehand."

"How, Aramis?"

"Yes, it was Aramis who brought me the invitation."

"Ah! to be sure, I see. You are invited on the part of M. Fouquet?"

"By no means! by the king, dear friend. The letter bears the following
as large as life: 'M. le Baron du Vallon is informed that the king has
condescended to place him on the invitation list--'"

"Very good; but you leave with M. Fouquet?"

"And when I think," cried Porthos, stamping on the floor, "when I think
I shall have no clothes, I am ready to burst with ra