Last of Her Line

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 306, 31 December 1935, Page 10

Last of Her Line

LONDON, Nov. 16. To whom could Margaret Knapping bequeath her lands and fortune? Her estate was worth £77,000, but she—lady of the manor of South Shoebury—was the last of her line. She had no relative in the world. She was eighty-six years old. When she died last week she had outlived most of her girlhood f riends. Painting had been her chief interest. She had spent many happy hours copying pictures in the National Gallery. She had once exhibited at the Royal Academy; she had illustrated children : s books, designed Christmas cards. In the heyday of youth she was a keen suffragette. She belonged to innumerable women’s golf clubs; sometimes she went to Sandown, often to Itoehampton to watch polo. She backed the winner in the last Grand National. Eccentric? Well, yes. She did not care how she dressed. She disliked jewellery. To whom, to what, could a woman of such varied interests leave her money? Miss Knapping answered the question by bequeathing the bulk of her fortune to the National Gallery. ‘‘You used to tell me I was birdlike,” complained the wife. The brutal husband continued to bury his nose in the paper. “You used to tell me I was birdlike,” repeated the wife, “but now you never act as if you thought so.” “You’re still birdlike,” growled the brutal husband. “One wouldn’t think you thought so, to judge by ” “Isn’t a parrot a bird?” |