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He left her one day painting a door, while the attentive Digson guided the brush, and walked homewards smiling. "Morning!" said a voice behind him. "Morning, Bignell," said Mr. Clarkson. "When when is it to be?" inquired his friend, walking beside him. Mr. Clarkson frowned. "When is what to be?" he demanded, disagreeably. Mr. Bignell lowered his voice.
I was just giving you the tip, but if you know better why, there's nothing more to be said. She'll be riding in her carriage and pair in six months, anyhow; the richest woman in Little Molton." Mr. Clarkson stopped short and eyed him in perplexity. "Digson got a bit sprung one night and told me," said Mr. Bignell. "She don't know it herself yet uncle on her mother's side in America.
"You'll lose her if you ain't careful," he said. "Mark my words. Can't you see Digson's little game?" Mr. Clarkson shrugged his shoulders. "He's after her money," said the other, with a cautious glance around. "Money?" said the other, with an astonished laugh. "Why, she hasn't got any." "Oh, all right," said Mr. Bignell. "You know best of course.
He left her one day painting a door, while the attentive Digson guided the brush, and walked homewards smiling. "Morning!" said a voice behind him. "Morning, Bignell," said Mr. Clarkson. "When when is it to be?" inquired his friend, walking beside him. Mr. Clarkson frowned. "When is what to be?" he demanded, disagreeably. Mr. Bignell lowered his voice.
I was just giving you the tip, but if you know better why, there's nothing more to be said. She'll be riding in her carriage and pair in six months, anyhow; the richest woman in Little Molton." Mr. Clarkson stopped short and eyed him in perplexity. "Digson got a bit sprung one night and told me," said Mr. Bignell. "She don't know it herself yet uncle on her mother's side in America.
"You'll lose her if you ain't careful," he said. "Mark my words. Can't you see Digson's little game?" Mr. Clarkson shrugged his shoulders. "He's after her money," said the other, with a cautious glance around. "Money?" said the other, with an astonished laugh. "Why, she hasn't got any." "Oh, all right," said Mr. Bignell. "You know best of course.
He conveyed the message to the artillery, which tore off to the assistance of the Munsters, and saved the situation." The saving of the guns is always an operation that calls for intrepidity, and many exploits of that kind are related. Lance-Corporal Bignell, Royal Berks, tells how he saw two R.F.A. drivers bring a gun out of action at Mons.
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