Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England Digby Heathcote, by W.H.G. Kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ DIGBY HEATHCOTE, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON. CHAPTER ONE. THE HERO'S EARLY DAYS--BLOXHOLME, ITS SQUIRE, HIS FAMILY AND DEPENDENTS. "I'll not stand it, that I won't, Master Digby. To think that you, a young gentleman who has plenty to eat and drink of everything that's nice, and more than enough, too, should come and put your fingers through the paper into my jam pots, which I've just been and nicely tied down, and all for mischief's sake, it's not to be borne, let me tell you. You've been and eaten up a whole pot of raspberry jam, and better than half a one of greengage. I wonder you are not sick with it. If you ever do it again, I'll leave your honoured father's service sooner than submit to such behaviour, that I will--remember, Master Digby." These exclamations were uttered by Mrs Carter, the housekeeper at Bloxholme Hall, the residence of Mr Heathcote, the representative of one of the oldest families in the county. The culprit thus addressed, who had been caught in _flagrante delicto_, stood before her with very sticky fingers, his countenance, however, wearing anything but an expression of penitence. "I like jam, and you don't give me enough in my puddings," was the only excuse he deigned to offer for his conduct. "You'll go without it altogether, Master Digby, let me tell you," retorted Mrs Carter. She was the only person in the establishment who ventured to thwart the young gentleman, though he did not love the old lady the worse for that.