k up the cudgels in the son's defence, and at last, by
way of ending the argument, half jocularly offered to wager that in
ten years from that moment R. L. S. would be earning a bigger income
than the old firm had ever commanded. To his surprise, the father
became furious, and repulsed all attempts at reconciliation. But six
and a half years later, Mr. Stevenson, broken in health, came to
London to seek medical advice, and although so feeble that he had to
be lifted out and into his cab, called at the Royal Institute to see
the Professor. He said: "I am here to consult a doctor, but I
couldna be in London without coming to shake your hand and confess
that you were richt after a' about Louis, and I was wrang." The
frail old frame shook with emotion, and he muttered, "I ken this is
my last visit to the south." A few weeks later he was dead.

VI

ALPINE WINTERS AND HIGHLAND SUMMERS

AUGUST 1880-OCTOBER 1882

After spending the months of June and July 1880 in the rough Californian
mountain quarters described in the _Silverado Squatters_, Stevenson took
passage with his wife and young stepson from New York on the 7th of
August, and arrived on the 17th at Liverpool, where his parents and I
were waiting to meet him. Of her new family, the Mrs. Robert Louis
Stevenson brought thus strangely and from far into their midst made an
immediate conquest. To her husband's especial happiness, there sprang up
between her and his father the closest possible affection and
confidence. Parents and friends--if it is permissible to one of the
latter to say as much--rejoiced to recognise in Stevenson's wife a
character as strong, interesting, and romantic almost as his own; an
inseparable sharer of all his thoughts and staunch companion of all his
adventures; the most open-hearted of friends to all who loved him; the
most shrewd and stimulating critic of his work; and in sickness, despite
her own precarious health, the most devoted and most efficient of
nurses.

From Liverpool the Stevenson party went on to make a stay in Scotland,
first at Edinburgh, and afterwards for a few weeks at Strathpeffer,
resting at Blair Athol on the way. It was now, in his thirtieth year,
among the woods of Tummelside and under the shoulder of Ben Wyvis, that
Stevenson acknowledged for the first time the full power and beauty of
the Highland scenery, which in youth, with his longings fixed ever upon
the So