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A Family Affair

           Onthemorningoftheeighthday,Bazin,freshasever,andsmiling,accordingtocustom,enteredthecabaretoftheParpaillotasthefourfriendsweresittingdowntobreakfast,saying,ashadbeenagreedupon:"MonsieurAramis,theanswerfromyourcousin."

           Thefourfriendsexchangedajoyfulglance;halfoftheworkwasdone.Itistrue,however,thatitwastheshorterandeasierpart.

           Aramis,blushinginspiteofhimself,tooktheletter,whichwasinalarge,coarsehandandnotparticularforitsorthography.

           "GoodGod!"criedhe,laughing,"IquitedespairofmypoorMichon;shewillneverwritelikeMonsieurdeVoiture."

           "WhatdoesyoumeanbyboorMichon?"saidtheSwiss,whowaschattingwiththefourfriendswhenthelettercame.

           "Oh,pardieu,lessthannothing,"saidAramis;"acharminglittleseamstress,whomIlovedearlyandfromwhosehandIrequestedafewlinesasasortofkeepsake."

           "Theduvil!"saidtheSwiss,"ifsheisasgreataladyasherwritingislarge,youarealuckyfellow,gomrade!"

           Aramisreadtheletter,andpassedittoAthos.

           "Seewhatshewritestome,Athos,"saidhe.

           Athoscastaglanceovertheepistle,andtodisperseallthesuspicionsthatmighthavebeencreated,readaloud:

           "Mycousin,MysisterandIareskillfulininterpretingdreams,andevenentertaingreatfearofthem;butofyoursitmaybesaid,Ihope,everydreamisanillusion.Adieu!Takecareofyourself,andactsothatwemayfromtimetotimehearyouspokenof.

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