It was a charming child—strong and healthy, seemed to have no trouble with temper or teeth, hardly ever cried, and might be seen morning and afternoon being wheeled by its nurse in a baby-carriage about the barrack square or along the road outside the Broad Arrow boundaries. And so, as the weeks rolled by and wore into months, it began to toddle about, and could say “Bootles” as plain as a pike-staff.
In April the Scarlet Lancers were moved from Idleminster to Blankhampton, where Bootles had to undergo a new experience, for every one there took him for a widower on account of the child.
Bootles would explain. “Take her about with me? Yes; she likes it. Always wants to go when she sees the trap. A bother? Not a bit of it; the jolliest little woman in creation, and as good as gold. What am I going to do with her when she grows up? Well, Lacy says he is going to marry her. If he don’t, somebody else will—no fear.”
Taking it all round, Miss Mignon had a remarkably good time of it, and seemed thoroughly to appreciate the pleasant places in which her lines had fallen. It was wonderful, too, what an immense favorite she was with “the fellows.” At first she had been “Bootles’s brat,” but very soon that was dropped, and by the time she could toddle, which she did in very good time, no one thought of mentioning her or of speaking to her except as “Miss Mignon.” Scarcely any of the officers dreamed for a moment of returning after a few days’ leave without “taking along,” as the Americans say, a box of sweets or a bundle of toys for Miss Mignon. Indeed the young lady came to have such a collection that after a while Mrs. Nurse’s patient soul arose, and with Captain Ferrers’s permission all the discarded ones were distributed among the less fortunate children of the regiment.
But Miss Mignon’s favorite plaything was Bootles himself—after Bootles, Lacy. People said it was wonderful, the depth of the affection between the big soldier of thirty-five and the little dot of a child, scarcely two. Bootles she adored, and where Bootles was she would be, if by hook or by crook she could convey her small person into his presence. Once she spied him turn in at the gates on the right hand of the colonel, when the regiment was returning from a field-day, and escaping from her nurse’s hand, set off as hard as she could run in the direction of the band, which immediately preceded the commanding officer. Mrs. Nurse gave chase, but alas! Mrs. Nurse was stout, and had the ill luck, moreover, to come a cropper over a drain tile lying conveniently in her way, while the child, unconscious of danger, ran straight for Bootles. Neither Bootles nor Lacy, who was on the colonel’s left, perceived her until she was close upon them, waving her small hands, and shouting, in her shrill and joyous child’s voice, “Bootles! Bootles!”
It seemed to Bootles, as be looked past the colonel, that the child was almost under the hoofs of Lacy’s charger. “Lacy!” he called out—“Lacy!” But Lacy was already on the ground, and caught Miss Mignon out of harm’s way; but when he turned round he saw that his friend’s face was as white as chalk.
But Lacy was already on the ground, and caught Miss Mignon out of harm’s way
As for the colonel, when he saw Mrs. Nurse gathering herself up with rueful looks at the drain tile, he simply roared, and Miss Mignon chimed in as if it were the finest joke in the world.