French was not very common among the honest trading class, or indeed any but the higher classes in England.
"But," John continued, "I must dissent from Lady Caroline Brithwood, if she mingles the English people with 'le peuple Francais.' They are a very different class of beings." "Ah, ca ira, ca ira"-- she laughed, humming beneath her breath a few notes out of that terrible song.

"But you know French--let us talk in that language; we shall horrify no one then." "I cannot speak it readily; I am chiefly self-taught." "The best teaching.

Mon dieu! Truly you are made to be 'un hero'-- just the last touch of grace that a woman's hand gives--had you ever a woman for your friend ?--and you would be complete.

But I cannot flatter--plain, blunt honesty for me.

You must--you shall be--'l'homme du peuple.' Were you born such ?--Who were your parents ?" I saw John hesitate; I knew how rarely he ever uttered those names written in the old Bible--how infinitely sacred they were to him.