“’Dear Nephew and Niece,

“’The enclosed will convey to you, with my warmest wishes for your happiness, a ticket on the Francfort Lottery, of which I inclose the scheme.  I also take the opportunity of saying that I have purchased the Hungarian pony for Mary—­which we spoke of this morning.  It is at Johnston’s stable, and will be delivered on sending for it.’

“’Think of that, Jack, the Borghese poney, with the silky tail; mine—­Oh! what a dear good old soul; it was the very thing of all others I longed for, for they told me the princess had refused every offer for it.’

“While Mary ran on in this strain, I sat mute and stupified; the sudden reverse my hopes had sustained, deprived me, for a moment, of all thought, and it was several minutes before I could rightly take in the full extent of my misfortunes.

“How that crazy old maid, for such, alas, I called her to myself now, could have so blundered all my meaning—­how she could so palpably have mistaken, I could not conceive; what a remedy for a man overwhelmed with debt—­a ticket in a German lottery, and a cream-coloured pony, as if my whole life had not been one continued lottery, with every day a blank; and as to horses, I had eleven in my stables already.  Perhaps she thought twelve would read better in my schedule, when I, next week, surrendered as insolvent.

“Unable to bear the delight, the childish delight of Mary, on her new acquisition, I rushed out of the house, and wandered for several hours in the Boulevards.  At last I summoned up courage to tell my wife.  I once more turned towards home, and entered her dressing-room, where she was having her hair dressed for a ball at the Embassy.  My resolution failed me—­not now thought I—­to-morrow will do as well—­one night more of happiness for her and then—­I looked on with pleasure and pride, as ornament after ornament, brilliant with diamonds and emeralds, shone in her hair, and upon her arms, still heightened her beauty, and lit up with a dazzling brilliancy her lovely figure.—­But it must come—­and whenever the hour arrives—­the reverse will be fully as bitter; besides I am able now—­and when I may again be so, who can tell—­now then be it, said I, as I told the waiting-maid to retire; and taking a chair beside my wife, put my arm round her.

“’There, John dearest, take care; don’t you see you’ll crush all that great affair of Malines lace, that Rosette has been breaking her heart to manage this half hour.’

“‘Et puis,’ said I.

“’Et puis.  I could not go to the ball, naughty boy.  I am bent on great conquest to-night; so pray don’t mar such good intentions.’

“‘And you should be greatly disappointed were you not to go?’

“’Of course I should; but what do you mean; is there any reason why I should not?  You are silent, John—­speak—­oh speak—­has any thing occurred to my—­’

“‘No, no, dearest—­nothing that I know has occurred to the Colonel.’