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Jan Hofmeyer, "onze Jan," that far-seeing, famous Cape politician, and Mr. Harold, M.P., left for Pretoria, and by the co-operation of President Steyn prevailed on President Kruger to submit those proposals to the British Government which the Colonial Secretary frankly admitted might form the basis of a peaceful settlement.
While in this mood, and performing at a sideboard the solemn rite of las onze, news incidentally reached him, by the mouth of his busy second, Hippolyte, of Frowenfeld's trouble, and despite 'Polyte's protestations against the principal in a pending "affair" appearing on the street, he ordered the carriage and hurried to the apothecary's.
You find every morning in your room a programme for the day. Dejeuner a onze heures. Chasse a tir a deux heures. Comedie Francaise a neuf heures. So you know what to wear and what to expect; but the invitation to tea is always made by the Empress's private huissier, who knocks at your door toward five o'clock and announces, "Her Majesty the Empress desires your presence at five o'clock."
Depuis onze mois que nous sommes partis en guerre, A tous les militaires, On a décidé de plaire. Aussi depuis ce temps l
Business-like, successful, bustling Onze; tactless but honest Douze; treacherous yet fascinating Treize; blundering Seize; graceful, brunette Dix-Sept; and the faithful, friendly Vingtneuf; feminine Rouge; brusque, virile Noir; mean little, underbred Manque, and senile Passe; priggish Pair with his skittish young wife; the Dozens, nouveaux-riches, thinking themselves a cut above the humbler Simple Chances in Roulette Society; the upright, unbending Columns; the raffish Chevaux; the excitable Transversales, and the brilliant Carrés; charming on first acquaintance, but fickle as friends; the twin, blind dwarfs, the Coups des Deux; these and many more, down to the wretched, worried Intermittances, ever in a violent hurry to catch a train but never catching it.
"En avant, Gaspard," said Hippolyte, and Suzanne shot another barbed glance in our direction. "Seven," muttered Gaspard. "Eight!" said Nick, immediately. "Nine," said Gaspard. "Ten," said Nick. "Ten," cried Hippolyte, "I am offered ten livres for the yellow birds. Une bagatelle! Onze, Gaspard! Onze! onze livres, pour l'amour de Suzanne!" But Gaspard was silent.
"En avant, Gaspard," said Hippolyte, and Suzanne shot another barbed glance in our direction. "Seven," muttered Gaspard. "Eight!" said Nick, immediately. "Nine," said Gaspard. "Ten," said Nick. "Ten," cried Hippolyte, "I am offered ten livres for the yellow birds. Une bagatelle! Onze, Gaspard! Onze! onze livres, pour l'amour de Suzanne!" But Gaspard was silent.
An elderly gardener who had been snipping and sweeping in the next house came up and vaguely recognized her as a well-known Bruxelloise, a good-natured lady, a foreigner who, strange to say, spoke Flemish. "Ach," he said, looking out where he thought lay the source of her tears, at the dim view of beautiful Brussels through the steamy glass, "Onze arme, oude Brüssel." Mrs.
“Oui, Mademoiselle, je parle Français un peu.” “Say some more,” Laura demanded. Maida smiled. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix, onze, douze—” Laura looked impressed. “Do you speak any other language?” “Italian and German—a very little.” Laura stared hard at her and her look was full of question. But it was evident that she decided to believe Maida.
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