had grown to prize it. So it hangs in her drawing-room, near by
where the Eildons stand sentinel over Scott's resting-place. This
picture of him who lies on Vaea's crest looks down with a slightly
quizzical expression, as if amused at finding himself ensconced in a
place of honour in the house of strangers on Tweedside. Photographs
there are in plenty of Stevenson, and one snapshot, enlarged in the
Edinburgh Edition, recalls him looking up with "long, hatchet face,
black hair, and haunting gaze, that follows as you move about the
room." But his likeness was as difficult for the photographer, or
the sun, to catch, as for the painter to put on canvas, for the
peculiar fascination of the living man lay in himself, in the
elusive charm of his smile, and in his manner of speech. However,
his contemporaries have left their printed records of his appearance
and his peculiar personality. Henley's perfect description in verse
is too well known to need quotation. Ugly, Stevenson called himself,
but this was not so. He was original in looks and mind, his lank
brown hair straggled over his high forehead, and framed his thin,
high-cheeked, sallow, oval face. His brown eyes and full red lips
gave a dash of colour to his features. His schoolmate, Mr. Baildon,
says truly, "his eyes were always genial, however gaily the lights
danced in them; but about the mouth there was something of trickery
and mocking, as of a spirit that had already peeped behind the
scenes of Life's pageant, and more than guessed its unrealities."

Repose he never tasted of, for his zest in life, his adventurous
inclination to explore, his insatiable curiosity, kept him ever
moving at topmost speed. To understand the mainspring which affected
the man's character--the machinery that supplied him with an
inexhaustible nerve force and vitality--Mr Colvin explains, "besides
humour, which kept wholesome laughter always ready at his lips, was