"Oh, Mr Sanford's is exactly the school to which I should wish Digby to go," exclaimed Mrs Heathcote, after reading her brother's letter; "he will be well taken care of, and well taught. What more can we wish?"

"I would rather send him at once to Eton or Winchester, and he would soon learn to take care of himself," observed the Squire. "As for the learning, he'll pick up enough of that, somehow or other, to roll along with, and to enable him to look after his property by and by. Really, I think we had better send him at once to Eton."

Mrs Heathcote pleaded so hard against this, that at last it was settled that Digby should go to Mr Sanford's for a couple of years, and afterwards be sent to one of the above-mentioned public schools.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

RETURN HOME--CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES--HOW THEY WERE INTERRUPTED--THE HEIR OF BLOXHOLME MISSING--DAME MARLOW'S REVENGE--ARTHUR HAVILAND GOES IN SEARCH OF HIS FRIEND.

There were great rejoicings when just before Christmas time Digby's jovial, smiling, and sunburnt countenance beamed forth in the hall of Bloxholme. How pleased were his father and mother to see him--how delighted Kate was--how fondly she kissed him, and how eagerly she asked him, as soon as he could, to come and tell her about everything. Gusty shouted and cheered as if some great event had occurred--so it had to him--for one of the most important personages he had ever known, had just returned, after a long absence, to the home of his ancestors. John Pratt came to the door, hat in hand, grinning all over with glee, and eagerly helped the coachman to unstrap Digby's trunk and play-box.

Alesbury, the butler, looked benignly at him--"Glad to see you, Master Digby, very glad, that I am," he exclaimed, in his usual well-bred undertone; "so grown too, you are. Well, we've all sorts of things ready for the holidays--very glad to see you, very." Mrs Carter hurried out of the housekeeper's room to welcome him, and after shaking hands and looking at him proudly for a minute, she gave way to the feelings of her heart, and seizing him in her arms, covered his cheeks with kisses. Nurse treated him much in the same way. He was too happy to resent the indignity, though he did rub his cheeks pretty hard afterwards with his handkerchief, when they were not looking. His two elder sisters were out riding when he arrived. When they came back they gave him as hearty a welcome as the rest of the family. Miss Apsley, too, in her quiet ladylike way, expressed her pleasure at seeing him.

Her discernment enabled her to discover that he possessed many qualities which, if properly directed, would make him both generally liked, and a useful member of society. She liked him because she thought that he was an honest true-hearted, English boy.

Digby had good reason, therefore, to be satisfied with the reception he met with from every member of the family after this his first absence from home. So he was, and he felt that he was a very happy fellow.

Still more full of glee was he, when he at length having been sufficiently looked at, and talked to, and cross questioned, and kissed, and hugged, and fed, found himself running through the grounds, with Kate by his side, towards their favourite resort, the summer-house on the mound.

It was a bright clear day, and though the air was cold, the sun striking through the gla.s.s windows for several hours made the room warm and pleasant. Then looking out together at the view, which, even in winter, was beautiful, Digby told Kate of all that had happened him at Mr Nugent's. How she did laugh at the idea of firing off the old guns at the Castle, though she very nearly cried with horror when he described how they had burst, and how narrowly he and Julian had escaped being killed.

Digby touched very lightly on Julian's behaviour, but he could not help saying enough to make Kate exclaim--

"Oh, I hate him!--mean-spirited, disagreeable boy. I hope papa will not ask him here again. I never liked him--I did not know why--now I guess the reason."

Kate then told Digby that all sorts of preparations had been made for his amus.e.m.e.nt during the holidays, and that several people, young and old, had been invited to come to the house.

"And who do you think is among them?" she asked. "Somebody you will be very glad to see, and whom I never saw. I begged that I might be the first to tell you, because I know that it will give you so much pleasure."

Digby guessed all sorts of people, but gave it up at last. Perhaps he knew how much Kate would like to tell him.

"Then I won't leave you longer in doubt," she exclaimed, eagerly.

"Arthur Haviland is coming."

"You don't say so," said Digby, clapping his hands. "How very jolly."

"Yes, he is, though," cried Kate. "Papa, it seems, knew Mr Haviland, who wrote to him about your having helped to pull Arthur out of the sea, and then they found that they were old friends, and so it was arranged that Arthur should come here for your holidays. Who else do you suppose is coming? I'll tell you, as you are not in a guessing mood to-day.

Cousin Giles. We could not get on this Christmas without him, I'm sure.

He'll manage everything. He'll direct all our games in the evening, and settle about all the sports in the morning for you boys. We were quite anxious till we knew that he would come; now I am certain that everything will go smoothly."

"Capital! how jolly!" exclaimed Digby.

Everything which promised to be pleasant was jolly with him. If he had been asked what was the most jolly thing in existence, he would have answered--his sister Kate.

Cousin Giles and Arthur Haviland were to arrive the very next day, and several other people who had sons with them were coming before New-year's-day, so that the house would be full from the top to the bottom.

Kate had another surprise for Digby. After they had had their confabulation, and the sinking sun warned them that it was time to return home, she led him round the back way, under pretence of showing him the dogs and some young pups Juno had produced. By chance, it appeared, as she pa.s.sed the stables, she threw open the door, and there stood John Pratt, grinning with pleasure, and holding by the head a beautiful little pony, with a new bridle and saddle on.

"Oh Kate, how kind, how delightful, how jolly!" exclaimed Digby. "Is that really for me? What a beauty. What grand gallops I'll have on him, and go out with you on your Tiny. It is of all things just what I should have liked the best, if I had been asked. What is his name? I hope that it is a pretty one."

"Guess," said Kate, who, although Digby never had guessed anything in his life, always persisted in making him try and do so.

"Oh, I can't! Angel, or Fairy, or Beauty, or something of that sort,"

he answered.

"You burn, you burn--something very nice," cried Kate. "Well, then, if you give it up I'll tell you--Sweetlips. We didn't give him the name.

It was what he was called by the person from whom papa bought him, but as he knows it, and will follow like a dog when he is called, we did not like to change it."

"It's a funny name for a pony, but as he has got it, we will still call him by it, and I shall like it very much," answered Digby. "But I say, John Pratt, can't I have a gallop on him at once across the park? I won't be ten minutes away, and it would be so delightful."

"I sees no reason again it, Master Digby," replied John; "I thought as how you'd be liking it, and so I put the new saddle on him, which the Squire sent and made me buy for you."

"Says he, 'John, our Digby will be coming to cover with me, to see the hounds throw off, and he'll be by my side I hope when I go a coursing; and I wish him to appear as my son should appear, John.' This was afore we bought the pony. I heard of it, and I was certain that it would just do, so the Squire told me to go and settle for it at once, and not to stand on price, and right glad I was when I brought back Master Sweetlips; and says the Squire, 'I never saw a greater beauty in my life, John. He'll just do for our boy. Now go and buy a new saddle and bridle to fit him. You can judge of what it ought to be just as well as I can.' Wasn't I proud; and so, Master Digby, here he is, all your own.

And here's a new whip I bought at the same time. The Squire didn't tell me to get that, but if you'll accept it from an old man, you'll make his heart right glad."

"Oh, thank you, John--thank you, John Pratt," exclaimed Digby, his heart so swelling with kindly and grateful feelings that the tears almost came into his eyes. "You run in, Kate, and say I'll be back directly, but I must have a gallop on Sweetlips."

John had been a.s.sisting him to mount, and adjusting his stirrups all the time. Away trotted the young heir of Bloxholme, and truly he looked the worthy scion of a st.u.r.dy race. John Pratt stood outside the yard gate, watching him with admiration, and Kate remained on the upper step of the hall-door, gazing at him with affectionate interest, till he was lost to sight among the trees, and the sound of his pony's hoofs died away in the distance.

"He is a dear fellow!" she exclaimed, as at length she entered the house, and ran up stairs to prepare for dinner. She was to dine late that day in honour of Digby's arrival. She antic.i.p.ated a delightful evening. He would have so much to tell her, so much to talk about--she felt so proud of him. He looked so well--so manly, she thought, and was so much improved in every way. Kate dressed and came down to the drawing-room long before dinner-time, that she might have another talk with Digby. He had not made his appearance, so she sat down and took up a book, thinking that he would come soon. Miss Apsley appeared next.

Kate remarked that she thought Digby was a long time dressing for dinner. She ran up to his room, but he was not there. When she came back, expecting to find that he had in the mean time come to the drawing-room, she felt blank at not seeing him.

"He probably is with your papa or mamma, dear," observed the governess; "it is scarcely fair to wish to monopolise his society."

"No, I will not; of course everybody will wish to speak to him," said Kate, and she resumed her book.

In a few minutes, however, she laid it down again.

"It is very odd that he does not come," exclaimed Kate; "I must go and find him."

She ran again to his room. His evening clothes and shoes were put out, the hot-water jug was on his wash-hand stand untouched, and his hair-brushes were in order on the dressing-table. He evidently had not been there to dress. She ran to her father's room, and then to her mother's and sisters', but he was not with them.

"Then he must be with Mrs Carter," she said to herself, and away she ran to the housekeeper's room, but Mrs Carter had not seen him nor was he in the nursery.

She was in hopes that he might have gone to play with Gusty before he went to bed. Coming back she met Alesbury, and begged him to send to the stables to ascertain if Digby was still there. Hoping that her brother might have gone into the drawing-room during her absence, she returned there. Her father was standing before the fire, her mother and sisters were sitting down on sofas and comfortable chairs, attempting to s.n.a.t.c.h a few minutes light reading in that generally very idle portion of the day.

"Kate, where is Digby?" asked her father, as she entered.

"I have been looking for him, papa, but I cannot find him," she answered.

"He has forgotten the dinner-hour, and is still renewing his acquaintance with the horses and dogs," said the Squire, adjusting his cravat.

He poked the fire, turned himself about before it once or twice, and then took up the newspaper. While thus occupied, the footman abruptly entered the room with a startled expression:--

"Mr Alesbury sent me out to the stable to bring in Master Digby, sir,"

he exclaimed in a hurried tone; "I went, sir, but neither John Pratt nor any of the men could I see; and while I was there the new pony came trotting in by himself with the reins hanging over his head."

"What is this, what is this I hear?" cried Mr Heathcote, in a state of great agitation, running to the hall-door.