ons visited Mr. Powell or received a visit from him. The chalet
was well named, as far as we were concerned, for it was almost a
solitude _a deux_, but the days slipped by with amazing celerity."

Their mutual affection and their dependence upon each other grew as
the years went by, and in 1884 he wrote to his mother: "My wife is in
pretty good feather; I love her better than ever and admire her more;
and I cannot think what I have done to deserve so good a gift. This
sudden remark came out of my pen; it is not like me; but in case you
did not know, I may as well tell you, that my marriage has been the
most successful in the world.... She is everything to me; wife,
brother, sister, daughter, and dear companion; and I would not change
to get a goddess or a saint. So far, after four years of matrimony."

At another time he wrote: "As for my wife, that was the best
investment ever made by man; but 'in our branch of the family' we seem
to marry well. Here am I, who you were persuaded was born to disgrace
you, no very burning discredit when all is said and done; here am I
married, and the marriage recognized to be a blessing of the first
water--A1 at Lloyds."

As Christmas, 1883, approached, their content seemed to reach its
highest tide, and out of a full heart Mrs. Stevenson wrote to her
mother-in-law:

"What a Christmas of thanksgiving this should be for us all, with
Louis so well, his father so well, everything pointing to comfort and
happiness. Louis is making such a success with his work, and doing
better work every day. Dear mother and father of my beloved husband, I
send you Christmas greetings from my heart of hearts. I mean to have a
Merry Christmas and be as glad and thankful as possible for all the
undeserved mercies and blessings that have been showered upon me."

They snatched at these moments of respite from eating care with an
almost pathetic eagerness, and set to work once more to make a home in
their doll's house. Mrs. Stevenson had what she called a "painting
fever," and devised a scheme of Japanese decorations for the doors of
the chalet which her husband thought might be made to produce a lot of
money if they were nearer London. One of the panels had a woman
yawning over a fire in the early morning, and the hypnotic effect of
it kept the family and their guests yawning their heads off, so that
Mrs. Stevenson decided the sleepy lady would be better for a bedroom.

Among their acquaintances here was