I send a duplicate of this letter to a London weekly; for the mistake, first set forth in your columns, has already reached England, and my wanderings have made me perhaps last of the persons interested to hear a word of it.--I am, etc., ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. TO R. A. M. STEVENSON _Terminus Hotel, Marseille_, _Saturday_ [_October 1882_]. MY DEAR BOB,--We have found a house!--at Saint Marcel, Banlieue de Marseille. In a lovely valley between hills part wooded, part white cliffs; a house of a dining-room, of a fine salon--one side lined with a long divan--three good bedrooms (two of them with dressing-rooms), three small rooms (chambers of _bonne_ and sich), a large kitchen, a lumber room, many cupboards, a back court, a large olive yard, cultivated by a resident _paysan_, a well, a berceau, a good deal of rockery, a little pine shrubbery, a railway station in front, two lines of omnibus to Marseille. L48 per annum. It is called Campagne Defli! query Campagne Debug? The Campagne Demosquito goes on here nightly, and is very deadly. Ere we can get installed, we shall be beggared to the door, I see. I vote for separations; F.'s arrival here, after our separation, was better fun to me than being married was by far. A separation completed is a most valuable property; worth piles.--Ever your affectionate cousin, R. L. S. TO THOMAS STEVENSON _Terminus Hotel, Marseille, le 17th October 1882._ MY DEAR FATHER,--We grow, every time we see it, more delighted with our house. It is five miles out of Marseilles, in a lovely spot, among lovely wooded and cliffy hills--most mountainous in line--far lovelier, to my eyes, than any Alps. To-day we have been out inventorying; and though a mistral blew, it was delightful in an open cab, and our house with the windows open was heavenly, soft, dry, sunny, southern. I fear there are fleas--it is called Campagne Defli--and I look forward to tons of insecticide being employed. I have had to write a letter to the New York Tribune and the Athenaeum. Payn was accused of stealing my stories! I think I have put things handsomely for him. Just got a servant!!!--Ever affectionate son, R. L. STEVENSON. Our servant is a Muckle Hash of a Weedy! TO MRS. THOMAS STEVENSON The next two months' letters had perforce to consist of little save bulletins of back-going health, and consequent disappointment and incapacity for work. _Campagne Defli, St. Marcel, Banlieue de Marseille, November 13, 1882._