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Updated: May 28, 2025
I wish we were out of this dark place. Dolignan. I could be content to spend hours here reassuring you, my dear lady. Miss Haythorn. Nonsense! Dolignan. Pweep! Miss Haythorn. Ee! Ee! Friend. What is the matter? Miss Haythorn. Open the door! Open the door! There was a sound of hurried whispers; the door was shut and the blind pulled down with hostile sharpness.
"We are only a mile from the Box Tunnel." "Do you always laugh a mile from the Box Tunnel?" said the lady. "Invariably." "What for?" "Why, hem! it is a gentleman's joke." Captain Dolignan then recounted to Miss Haythorn the following:
He was looking in vain for a lady, equal in personal attraction to the idea he had formed of George Dolignan as a man, when suddenly there glided past him a most delightful vision! a lady whose beauty and symmetry took him by the eyes, another look: "It can't be! Yes, it is!" Miss Haythorn!
Captain Dolignan then recounted to Miss Haythorn the following: "A lady and her husband sat together going through the Box Tunnel; there was one gentleman opposite; it was pitch-dark. After the tunnel the lady said, 'George, how absurd of you to salute me going through the tunnel! 'I did no such thing. 'You didn't? 'No; why? 'Because somehow I thought you did!"
Here Captain Dolignan laughed and endeavoured to lead his companion to laugh, but it was not to be done. The train entered the tunnel. Miss Haythorn. Ah! Dolignan. What is the matter? Miss Haythorn. I am frightened. Pray do not be alarmed; I am near you. Miss Haythorn. You are near me very near me indeed, Captain Dolignan. Dolignan. You know my name? Miss Haythorn. I heard you mention it.
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.
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.
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.
He was looking in vain for a lady equal in personal attraction to the idea he had formed of George Dolignan as a man, when suddenly there glided past him a most delightful vision a lady whose beauty and symmetry took him by the eyes; another look: "It can't be! Yes, it is!" Miss Haythorn!
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