“Indeed, cousin Maurice, it is only for your own sake I speak,” said she, wiping her eyes. “You know you was always a favourite of mine from your childhood up; I nursed you, and had you on my knee, and foretold often and often you would make a fortune, so I did. And will you buy the ticket I dreamed about, hey?”
Maurice assured her that, if it was to be had, he would. The cow was accordingly sold the following week, and the ticket in the lottery was bought. It was not, however, the number about which Mrs. Dolly had dreamed, for that was already purchased by some other person. The ticket Maurice bought was number 80; and, after he had got it, his cousin Dolly continually deplored that it was not the very number of which she dreamed. It would have been better not to have taken her advice at all than to have taken it when it was too late.
Maurice was an easy-tempered man, and loved quiet; and when he found that he was reproached for something or other whenever he came into his own house, he began to dislike the thought of going home after his day’s work, and loitered at public-houses sometimes, but more frequently at the lottery-office. As the lottery was now drawing, his whole thoughts were fixed upon his ticket; and he neglected his work at the manufactory. “What signify a few shillings wages, more or less?” said he to himself. “If my ticket should come up a prize, it makes a rich man of me at once.”
His ticket at last was drawn a prize of five thousand pounds! He was almost out of his senses with joy! He ran home to tell the news. “A prize! a prize, Dolly!” cried he, as soon as he had breath to speak.
“That comes of taking my advice!” said Dolly.
“A five thousand pound prize! my dear Ellen,” cried he, and down he kicked her spinning-wheel.
“I wish we may be as happy with it as we have been without it, Maurice,” said Ellen; and calmly lifted her spinning-wheel up again.
“No more spinning-wheels!” cried Maurice; “no more spinning! no more work! We have nothing to do now but to be as happy as the day is long. Wife, I say, put by that wheel.”
“You’re a lady now; and ought to look and behave like a lady,” added Mrs. Dolly, stretching up her head, “and not stand moping over an old spinning-wheel.”
“I don’t know how to look and behave like a lady,” said Ellen, and sighed: “but I hopes Maurice won’t love me the less for that.”