“In half an hour.”
The young man bowed. Perhaps, not being endowed with the endurance of Athos, who seemed to be made of iron, he would have preferred a bath in the river Seine of which he had heard so much, and afterward his bed; but the Comte de la Fere had spoken and he had no thought but to obey.
“By the way,” said Athos, “take some pains with your toilet, Raoul; I want you to be approved.”
“I hope, sir,” replied the youth, smiling, “that there’s no idea of a marriage for me; you know of my engagement to Louise?”
Athos, in his turn, smiled also.
“No, don’t be alarmed, although it is to a lady that I am going to present you, and I am anxious that you should love her——”
The young man looked at the count with a certain uneasiness, but at a smile from Athos he was quickly reassured.
“How old is she?” inquired the Vicomte de Bragelonne.
“My dear Raoul, learn, once for all, that that is a question which is never asked. When you can find out a woman’s age by her face, it is useless to ask it; when you cannot do so, it is indiscreet.”
“Is she beautiful?”