He was the worst Musketeer and the most unconvivial companion imaginable.

He had always something or other to do.

Sometimes in the midst of dinner, when everyone, under the attraction of wine and in the warmth of conversation, believed they had two or three hours longer to enjoy themselves at table, Aramis looked at his watch, arose with a bland smile, and took leave of the company, to go, as he said, to consult a casuist with whom he had an appointment.

At other times he would return home to write a treatise, and requested his friends not to disturb him.
At this Athos would smile, with his charming, melancholy smile, which so became his noble countenance, and Porthos would drink, swearing that Aramis would never be anything but a village CURE.
Planchet, d'Artagnan's valet, supported his good fortune nobly.

He received thirty sous per day, and for a month he returned to his lodgings gay as a chaffinch, and affable toward his master.