“With its clothes on?” said Bootles, doubtfully. “I rather fancy they undress babies when they put ’em to bed.” “I don’t advise you to try. Oh, it won’t hurt for to-night.” [Picture: Bootles, proud of his new accomplishment, lifted the child awkwardly in his arms] “There’s a cab just driven up. I believe it’s the Grays. I saw them go out dressed before dinner,” said Hartog. The Grays were the adjutant and his wife, who lived in barracks. “She would help you in a minute.” “Oh, go and see; there’s a good chap,” Bootles cried, eagerly. Hartog therefore went out. He found that it was the adjutant with his wife returning from a party, and to the lady he addressed himself. “Oh, Mrs. Gray, Bootles is in such trouble—” he began. “In trouble?—Bootles?—Captain Ferrers?” she said. “What is the matter?” “Well, he’s got a baby,” Hartog answered. “Got WHAT?” Mrs. Gray cried. “A baby. It’s been left in his rooms, clothes and all, and Bootles don’t know what the de—, what in the world, I mean, to do with it.” “Shall I go in and see it?” Mrs. Gray asked. “I wish you would. Some of the others are there.” Well, eventually Mrs. Gray carried off the little stranger to her own quarters, and put it to bed. As for Bootles, he too went to bed, but during the whole of that blessed night he never slept a wink. CHAPTER II. WHEN Bootles showed his face in the mess-room the following morning he was greeted by such a volley of chaff as would have driven a more nervous man, or one less of a favorite than himself, to despair. Already the story had gone the round of the barracks, and Bootles found the greater part of his brother officers ready and willing to take Miles’s view of the affair, whether in chaff or downright good earnest he could not say. “Halloo! Bootles, my man,” shouted one when he entered, “what’s this story we hear? Is it possible that Bootles—our immaculate and philanthropical Bootles— Oh, Bootles! Bootles! how are the mighty fallen!” “Hey?” inquired Bootles, sweetly. “I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Bootles; I wouldn’t indeed. Any other fellow in the regiment—that soft-headed Lacy grinning over there, for instance—but _our Bootles_—” He broke off as if words could not express the volumes he thought, but found his tongue and went on again before Bootles could open his mouth. “Our Bootles with an unacknowledged wife sworn not to disclose her marriage—our Bootles with a baby—our Bootles a papa! Oh lor!” “Why didn’t you manage better, Bootles?” cried another. “You might have sent her an odd fiver now and then. You have plenty.” “Is she pretty, Bootles?” asked a third. “Was there by any chance a flaw in the marriage?” inquired a fourth. “Do you think I’m a fool?” asked Bootles, pleasantly. “I tell you it’s a plant. I know nothing about the creature.”