Read Ebook: Mignon; or Bootles' Baby by Winter John Strange

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Ebook has 306 lines and 15037 words, and 7 pages

At this point Miss Mignon made a delighted lunge in the direction of the belt across Miles's breast. Lacy shouted, "Whoa, whoa," and Miles immediately backed out of reach. Miss Mignon's mouth went dismally down, until Lacy remembered the knob of his whip, and held it up for delectation.

"Boo--boo!" she crowed.

"Now, then," Bootles called out, "have any of you fellows made up your mind to own this little baggage?"

Bootles turned, and looked down upon him in profoundest contempt.

"I'll tell you what it is," said Hartog afterwards to Lacy, "Bootles is a dashed good fellow--one of the best fellows in the world. I don't know that there's another I'd trust as far or as thoroughly; but all the same, Bootles is sometimes best left alone, and, for my part, I think Gilchrist and every one else had best leave him alone about this youngster."

"Ya--as," returned Lacy; then began to laugh. "Oh! but it was fine, though, about 'personal appearance.'" And then he added, "Ugly little beast!"

IT was not to be expected, and Bootles did not expect it, that the story of the mysterious little stranger could be confined to barracks. In fact, in the course of a few hours it had flown all over the town, gaining additions and alterations by the frequency of its repetition, until at last Bootles himself could hardly recognize it. A baby had been found in Captain Ferrers's rooms; no one knew where it had come from nor to whom it belonged. Then--Captain Ferrers had rescued a young baby from a brutal father who was going to dash its brains out against the door-post. Then--Captain Ferrers had picked up a new-born infant while hunting with the duke's hounds. Then--Captain Ferrers was suffering from mental aberration, or, to speak plainly, was getting a bit cracked, and had adopted a child a year old out of Idleminster workhouse. Then--It was really most romantic, but Captain Ferrers had been engaged to and jilted by a young lady long ago--which, of course, accounted for his being impervious to the fascinations of the Idleminster girls--who had married, been deserted by her husband, and now died--some versions of the story said "committed suicide"--leaving him the charge of a baby, etc.

Some people told one version of the story and some people told another, but nobody blamed Bootles very much. It might be because he was so rich and so handsome and pleasant; it might be because Idleminster society was free from that leaven of censoriousness which causes most people to look at most things from the worst possible view.

In due time this advertisement produced the right sort of person, and a staid and respectable widow of about fifty was soon installed in a room next to Mr. Gray's quarters, in charge of Miss Mignon, as the child had already come to be called by everybody.

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.

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.

"That was a smash," she remarked, from her proud position on Lacy's shoulder, "just like Humpty Dumpty"--a comment which gave that estimable person the name of Mrs. Humpty Dumpty as long as she remained with the regiment.

A few weeks after this the annual inspection came off, and Miss Mignon, resenting the lengthened absence of her Bootles, again managed to escape from her nurse, and pattered boldly, as fast as her small feet would carry her, right into the mess-room, where Bootles was sitting, just opposite the general, at the late lunch. Miss Mignon not seeing him at first, wandered coolly behind the row of scarlet-clad backs, until she spied him at the other side of the table. Then, having no awe whatever of inspecting officers, she wedged herself in between his chair and the colonel's with a triumphant and joyous laugh.

The general gave a great start, and the colonel laughed. Bootles, in dismay, jumped up, and came quickly round the table to take her away.

"Well, you little rogue," said the colonel, reaching a nectarine for her. "What do you want?"

"I wanted Bootles, sir," said Miss Mignon, confidentially. "And nurse falled asleep, so I tooked French leave." Almost the only peculiarity in her speech was the habit of making all verbs regular.

"And who are you, my little maid?" the general asked, in extreme amusement.

"Oh, I'm Miss Mignon," with dignity.

The old general fairly chuckled with delight, and as he had put his arm round the child, Bootles, who was standing behind, could not very well take her away.

"Oh, Miss Mignon--hey? And whom do you belong to?"

"Why, to Bootles," in surprise at his ignorance.

"To Bootles? And who is Bootles?"

"Bootles is Bootles, and I love him," Miss Mignon replied, as if that settled everything.

"Happy Bootles!" cried the old soldier.

"What a lot of medals you've got!" cried Miss Mignon, pressing closer.

"I'm afraid, sir, she is troubling you," Bootles interposed at this point, but secretly delighted with the turn affairs had taken.

"No, no; let her see my medals," replied the general, who was as proud of his medals as Bootles of Miss Mignon.

"Are you a 'sir' too?" Miss Mignon asked, gazing at the handsome old man with more respect.

"What does she mean?" he cried.

Bootles laughed.

"Well, sir, she hears us speak to the colonel so, that is all."

"Dear me! What a remarkably intelligent and attractive child!" exclaimed the general, quietly. "How old is she?"

"About two, sir."

Now it happened that the old general had a craze for absolute accuracy, and he caught Bootles up with pleasant sharpness.

"Oh! Does that mean more or less?"

"I can't say, sir. She is about two. I do not know the date of her birth."

"Then she is not yours?"

"I am not her father, sir, but at present she belongs to me," Bootles said, smiling. "I'm afraid--"

"Not at all, but perhaps she had better go. What a charming child!" This last was perhaps because Miss Mignon, finding her time had come--and she never made a fuss on such occasions--put two soft arms round his neck, and gave him such a genuine hug of friendship that the old man's heart was quite taken by storm.

So Miss Mignon was carried off, looking back to the last over Bootles's shoulder, and waving her adieu to the handsome old man, who had such a fascinating array of clasps and medals.

"I didn't quite understand--what relation is the child to him?" he asked of the colonel.

"None whatever. Ferrers found her late one night in his bed, with her wardrobe, and a letter from the mother, written as if Ferrers was the father. He, however, gave me his word of honor that he knew nothing about it, and some of us think the whole affair was simply a plant, as he is known to be a very kind-hearted fellow. Others, however, Ferrers among them, think that note and child were intended for one of the others. Nobody, however, would own to it, and Ferrers has kept the child ever since--I don't suppose he would part with her now for anything. I wanted him to send her to the workhouse, but 'tis a jolly bright little soul, and I am glad he did not."

"Then he is not married?"

"Oh dear no. He pays a woman fifty pounds a year to look after her, and all her meals go from the mess. In fact, he is bringing her up as if she were his own; and the child adores him--simply adores him."

"I respect that man," said the general, warmly. "It is an awful thing for a child to be reared in a workhouse--awful."

"Yes; Bootles feels very strongly on the subject," replied the colonel, absently.

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