arriage was only a formality, he told himself,
and from that time on he tried to school himself to think so, almost
succeeding after a while.

When his article was finished, Jimmy glanced through it rapidly, made
one or two corrections, scrawled his signature at the foot, then turned
to Lalage. "What is the time, dear? Have any of your clock-men come down
the street lately?"

She looked up with a smile. "Yes, the watercress man, which means five
o'clock. Have you finished now?"

Jimmy nodded. "I thought of taking it down to the office now. It's
topical, so there's just a chance they'll use it to-night. Will you
come too?"

"Of course," she answered. "We can get a motor 'bus at the end of the
street, and it'll be a nice little run out. Besides, it'll be lucky if I
go with you. They'll be sure to take it. I've a feeling I shall bring
you luck. Don't you think so yourself?"

He kissed her lightly on the hair. "I'm sure you will, sweetheart. And
we want lots of luck just now."

"What a dirty place and what a grumpy old man!" Lalage remarked as they
came out of the _Record_ office, after handing the envelope to the surly
porter, who had taken it with an inarticulate growl and tossed it to a
waiting boy. "Still, if they use it and they're good to you, I don't
mind how dusty their passage is, or how bad tempered the porter looks."

Jimmy pressed her arm. "Good to us, you mean, don't you?"

She laughed. "Yes, good to us, I should say now." In the morning Jimmy
was out early to buy a copy of the paper; and, as she opened the door to
him, his radiant face told her the news.

"They've used it," he said, unnecessarily.

She laughed softly. "I felt sure they would. You see Lalage is lucky to
you already."

CHAPTER XV

"That last article of yours I used was a very good one, and I shall
always be glad to see anything you like to submit; but the amount of
space we can give to foreign stuff, however good, is limited, and I do
not like to have the same signature more than three or four times a
month," Dodgson wrote, in returning Jimmy's next manuscript.

Jimmy passed the letter to Lalage. "Not very encouraging, is it dear?"

The girl read it through. "Oh, I think so. Three or four months means
six or eight guineas from one paper alone, and then, you see, there are
so many others. I'm sure you'll do well, because you're very, very
clever, and because you're good to Lalage."

"Will that bring me luck?" he asked,