beautiful and almost twice as large as before. He lost sight of her. He
found her again. She was so lovely she made him ill--and he, alone, must
not dance with her, speak to her. If he had been content to begin her
acquaintance the usual way, it might have ended in kissing: it must end
in nothing. As she danced, sparks of beauty fell from her on all around,
but him--she did not see him; it was clear she never would see him--one
gentleman was particularly assiduous; she smiled on his assiduity; he
was ugly, but she smiled on him. Dolignan was surprised at his success,
his ill taste, his ugliness, his impertinence. Dolignan at last found
himself injured; "who was this man? and what right had he to go on so?
He never kissed her, I suppose," said Dolle. Dolignan could not prove
it, but he felt that somehow the rights of property were invaded. He
went home and dreamed of Miss Haythorn, and hated all the ugly
successful. He spent a fortnight trying to find out who his beauty
was,--he never could encounter her again. At last he heard of her in
this way: A lawyer's clerk paid him a little visit and commenced a
little action against him in the name of Miss Haythorn, for insulting
her in a railway train.
The young gentleman was shocked; endeavored to soften the lawyer's
clerk; that machine did not thoroughly comprehend the meaning of the
term. The lady's name, however, was at last revealed by this untoward
incident; from her name to her address was but a short step; and the
same day our crestfallen hero lay in wait at her door, and many a
succeeding day, without effect. But one fine afternoon she issued forth
quite naturally, as if she did it every day, and walked briskly on the
parade. Dolignan did the same, met and passed her many times on the
parade, and searched for pity in her eyes, but found neither look nor
recognition, nor any other sentiment; for all this she walked and
walked, till all the other promenaders were tired and gone,--then her
culprit summoned resolution, and, taking off his hat, with a voice for
the first time tremulous, besought permission to address her. She
stopped, blushed, and neither acknowledged nor disowned his
acquaintance. He blushed, stammered out how ashamed he was, how he
deserved to be punished, how he was punished, how little she knew how
unhappy he was, and concluded by begging her not to let all the world
know the disgrace of a man who was already mortified enough by the loss
of her acquaintance. She asked an explanation; he told her of the action
that had been commenced in her name; she gently shrugged her shoulders
and said, "How stupid they are!" Emboldened by this, he begged to know
whether or not a life of distant unpretending devotion would, after a
lapse of years, erase the memory of his madness--his crime!
"She did not know!"
"She must now bid him adieu, as she had some preparations to make for a
ball in the Crescent, where everybody was to be." They parted, and
Dolignan determined to be at the ball, where everybody was to be. He was
there, and after some time he obtained an introduction to Miss Haythorn,
and he danced with her. Her manner was gracious. With the wonderful tact
of her sex, she seemed to have commenced the acquaintance that evening.
That night, for the first time, Dolignan was in love. I will spare the
reader all a lover's arts, by which he succeeded in dining where she
dined, in dancing where she danced, in overtaking her by accident when
she rode. His devotion followed her to church, where the dragoon was
rewarded by learning there is a world where they neither polk nor
smoke,--the two capital abominations of this one.
He made an acquaintance with her uncle, who liked him, and he saw at
last with joy that her eye loved to dwell upon him, when she thought he
did not observe her. It was three months after the Box Tunnel that
Captain Dolignan called one day upon Captain Haythorn, R. N., whom he
had met twice in his life, and slightly propitiated by violently
listening to a cutting-out expedition; he called, and in the usual way
asked permission to pay his addresses to his daughter. The worthy
Captain straightway began doing quarter-deck, when suddenly he was
summoned from the apartment by a mysterious message. On his return he
announced with a total change of voice, that "It was all right, and his
visitor might run alongside as soon as he chose." My reader has divined
the truth; this nautical commander, terrible to the foe, was in
complete and happy subjugation to his daughter, our heroine.
As he was taking leave, Dolignan saw his divinity glide into the
drawing-room. He followed her, observed a sweet consciousness deepen
into confusion,--she tried to laugh, and cried instead, and then she
smiled again; when he kissed her hand at the door it was "George" and
"Marian" instead of "Captain" this and "Miss" the other.
A reasonable time after this (for my tale is merciful and skips
formalities and torturing delays), these two were very happy; they were
once more upon the railroad, going to enjoy their honeymoon all by
themselves. Marian Dolignan was dressed just as before,--duck-like and
delicious; all bright except her clothes; but George sat beside her this
time instead of opposite; and she drank him in gently from her long
eyelashes.
"Marian," said George, "married people should tell each other all. Will
you ever forgive me if I own to you; no--"
"Yes! yes!"
"Well, then, you remember the Box Tunnel." (This was the first allusion
he had ventured to it.) "I am ashamed to say I had £3 to £10 with White
I would kiss one of you two ladies," and George, pathetic externally,
chuckled within.
"I know that, George; I overheard you," was the demure reply.
"Oh! you overheard me! impossible."
"And did you not hear me whisper to my companion? I made a bet with
her."
"You made a bet! how singular! What was it?"
"Only a pair of gloves, George."
"Yes, I know; but what about it?"
"That if you did you should be my husband, dearest."
"Oh! but stay; then you could not have been so very angry with me, love.
Why, dearest, then you brought that action against me?"
Mrs. Dolignan looked down.
"I was afraid you were forgetting me! George, you will never forgive
me?"
"Sweet angel! why, here is the Box Tunnel!"
Now, reader,--fie! no! no such thing! you can't expect to be indulged in
this way every time we come to a dark place. Besides, it is not the
thing. Consider, two sensible married people. No such phenomenon, I
assure you, took place. No scream in hopeless rivalry of the
engine--this time!
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's Notes: |
| |
|Inconsistencies in spelling have been retained as they appear |
|in the original. |
| |
|Page 14 was'nt changed to wasn't |
| 44 double quotation added after ... the wood |
| 72 double quotation added after ... hand it over. |
| 209 single quotation added after ... Captain jewel, |
| 214 "started" changed to "stared" |
| 216 double quotation changed to single quotation after |
| ... frongsay? |
| 223 repeated "in" in "him in in the name" removed |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+