The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. " "There it is;" replied the other, tossing him the glove. Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand table, each better than the next. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony.
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