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Updated: June 29, 2025
She was built at Blackwall by Messrs. Wigram, and, after all the delays, sailed on the very same day as the 'Duke of Portland. Meantime here are a few extracts from Patteson's journal-letter during the voyage. Sea-sickness was very slightly disabling with him; he was up and about in a short time, and on the 8th of April was writing:
He saw the lady at the window, however, and checked his course. "For me!" cried Doris, triumphantly and she tore it open. Can't arrive till between eight and nine. Think I have got all we want. Please take a room for me at hotel. Doris turned back into the room, and handed the telegram to Lady Dunstable, who read it slowly. "Did you say this was the Alice Wigram I knew?"
Of course he may not have been willing to say anything, but I think he probably would he was so mad with her for a trick she played him in the middle of a big piece of work. And if he was able to put us on any useful track, then Miss Wigram was to come up here straight, and tell you everything she could.
There is nobody in the world less helpless than Lady Dunstable, and nobody who would be less grateful for being helped. I really cannot meddle with it." She rose as she spoke, and Miss Wigram rose too. "Couldn't you couldn't you " said the girl pleadingly "just ask Mr. Meadows to warn Lord Dunstable? I'm thinking of the villagers, and the farmers, and the schools all the people we used to love.
Doris had soon made out that this girl, Alice Wigram, was indeed the clergyman's daughter whom Lady Dunstable had snubbed so unkindly some twelve months before. She was evidently a sweet-natured, susceptible creature, to whom Lord Dunstable had taken a fancy, in his fatherly way, during occasional visits to her father's rectory, and of whom he had spoken to his wife.
At this time she had taken many portraits of her friends, and I have, in my own possession, one of Miss Wigram, and one, in a riding-hat, of her sister Emily, both done in chalks, as is her picture of herself sent to her brother. Later on she went to Rome, where for twenty years she studied art and copied pictures "for the use," Mr. Mozley says, "of English chapels."
Colonel Wigram immediately saw the possibilities of such a finish, and agreed to allow me to accompany them. Very jubilant, I thanked him and promised to be at the boat by midday. In my hurry and anxiety to obtain permission I had entirely forgotten to enquire at which port the boat was sailing from Calais or Boulogne. I rushed back to find Colonel Wigram, but unluckily he had gone.
Well here we all are, as happy as larks; and what we've really done, I suppose, is to take a woman's character away, and give her another push to perdition." "She hadn't any character!" cried Alice Wigram indignantly. "And she would have gone to perdition without us, and taken that poor youth with her. Oh, I know, I know! But morals are a great puzzle to me.
The doctor came and said he was dying. He was unconscious and he pecked feebly at the sheets; he was restless and he cried out. Dr. Wigram gave him a hypodermic injection. "It can't do any good now, he may die at any moment." The doctor looked at his watch and then at the patient. Philip saw that it was one o'clock. Dr. Wigram was thinking of his dinner. "It's no use your waiting," he said.
"I was thinking of it," Philip answered cheerfully. "A breath of sea-air will do you good." Presently Dr. Wigram came, and after he had seen the Vicar talked with Philip. He adopted an appropriate manner. "I'm afraid it is the end this time, Philip," he said. "It'll be a great loss to all of us. I've known him for five-and-thirty years." "He seems well enough now," said Philip.
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