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 L3 to L10 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 hea