The large table was covered with a clean cloth, and soon after they brought in two huge dishes of polenta and an enormous pan full of chops.  We were just going to begin when a knocking on the street door was heard.

“’Tis Signora Maria and her mother,” said one of the boys.

At this announcement I saw the four girls pulling a wry face.  “Who asked them?” said one.  “What do they want?” said another.  “What troublesome people they are!” said a third.  “They might have stayed at home,” said the fourth.  But the good, kindly father said, “My children, they are hungry, and they shall share what Providence has given us.”

I was deeply touched with the worthy man’s kindness.  I saw that true Christian charity is more often to be found in the breasts of the poor than the rich, who are so well provided for that they cannot feel for the wants of others.

While I was making these wholesome reflections the two hungry ones came in.  One was a young woman of a modest and pleasant aspect, and the other her mother, who seemed very humble and as if ashamed of their poverty.  The daughter saluted the company with that natural grace which is a gift of nature, apologizing in some confusion for her presence, and saying that she would not have taken the liberty to come if she had known there was company.  The worthy Momolo was the only one who answered her, and he said, kindly, that she had done quite right to come, and put her a chair between my brother and myself.  I looked at her and thought her a perfect beauty.

Then the eating began and there was no more talking.  The polenta was excellent, the chops delicious, and the ham perfect, and in less than an hour the board was as bare as if there had been nothing on it; but the Orvieto kept the company in good spirts.  They began to talk of the lottery which was to be drawn the day after next, and all the girls mentioned the numbers on which they had risked a few bajocchi.

“If I could be sure of one number,” said I, “I would stake something on it.”

Mariuccia told me that if I wanted a number she could give me one.  I laughed at this offer, but in the gravest way she named me the number 27.

“Is the lottery still open?” I asked the Abbe Momolo.

“Till midnight,” he replied, “and if you like I will go and get the number for you.”

“Here are fifty crowns,” said I, “put twenty-five crowns on 27-this for these five young ladies; and the other twenty-five on 27 coming out the fifth number, and this I will keep for myself.”

He went out directly and returned with the two tickets.

My pretty neighbour thanked me and said she was sure of winning, but that she did not think I should succeed as it was not probable that 27 would come out fifth.

“I am sure of it,” I answered, “for you are the fifth young lady I saw in this house.”  This made everybody laugh.  Momolo’s wife told me I would have done much better if I had given the money to the poor, but her husband told her to be quiet, as she did not know my intent.  My brother laughed, and told me I had done a foolish thing.  “I do, sometimes,” said I, “but we shall see how it turns out, and when one plays one is obliged either to win or lose.”