hat the name she bore
was not to be lowered by appearing in stupid or ridiculous
controversy; for that reason she would never see newspaper reporters,
and though many so-called "interviews" with her have been printed,
none of them are genuine. She was misrepresented by the press in many
ways, and even wantonly attacked, but refused to break her rule under
any circumstances. During the last days of Jules Simoneau, of
Monterey, a statement appeared in the papers to the effect that he was
being permitted to suffer and die in want, and although it was
perfectly well known to her friends and many other persons that she
had supported him in comfort for years, she would not make any
contradiction in the public press.

One of the interesting people she met while in England was Prince
Kropotkin, the noted Russian revolutionist. Mrs. Stevenson, believing
that Kropotkin was concerned in the blowing up of a French village
while a country fair was in progress, resulting in the killing of a
number of innocent people, prevented her husband from signing a
petition that was instituted for his release from the French prison
where he was confined. When he was finally freed and went to England,
at the urgent request of Henry James she consented to meet him, and
found him to be a most charming person. He assured her that, judging
from the expression of her eyes, she was born to be a nihilist, and
when she indignantly denied this, still insisted that she should learn
to play the game of solitaire, for if she should ever have to go to
prison it might save her life and reason, as it had his. She
consented, not with the anticipation of spending any portion of her
life behind prison-bars, but in order to use the game to amuse her
husband during his long periods of forced and speechless seclusion.
She would sit by his bedside and play her game, and he took great
pleasure in watching it and pointing at the cards that he thought she
ought to play. In later years, when he had gone to the other world,
and the days grew long and lonely, this game of solitaire, so
strangely acquired from the bearded Russian, became a solace.

But of all the guests that came to Skerryvore, the best loved and most
welcome was Mrs. Stevenson's fellow countryman, Henry James, who often
ran down to see them. In the house there was a certain large blue
chair in which he liked to sit. It was called the "Henry James" chair,
and no one else was allowed to use it. It was to hi