elebrities with whom her father was so fond of filling his
house.

[Illustration: GRAND STAIRCASE, DUBLIN CASTLE.]

"But," said she, "proud as I am of my father, I am quite as proud of my
grandfather, Richard Pemberton Milnes, for he was only twenty-two years
of age when he refused the choice of a seat in the Cabinet, either as
Chancellor of the Exchequer or Secretary at War. My grandmother, Mrs.
Pemberton Milnes, in her diary for 1809, says that one morning, while we
were at breakfast, a king's messenger drove up in a post-chaise and four
with a despatch from Mr. Perceval, offering my husband the choice of a
seat in the Cabinet. Mr. Milnes immediately said, 'Oh, no, I will not
accept either; with my temperament I should be dead in a year.' And
nothing could induce him to do so either," continued Mrs. Henniker, "nor
could he be induced to accept the Peerage which was offered him by Lord
Palmerston in 1856."

"But your father was not so rigid in his views as your grandfather, was
he, Mrs. Henniker?" said I.

[Illustration: HIS EXCELLENCY LORD HOUGHTON IN HIS STUDY.]

"No," she replied, "certainly he was not, although I don't think that he
quitted the House of Commons, which he always loved, without a pang of
real regret. Amongst the many kind congratulations he received--for no
man ever had more friends--was a very pretty one from his old friend,
Mrs. Proctor, in which she said:

"'He enters from the common air
Into that temple dim;
He learns among those ermined Peers
The diplomatic hymn.
His Peers? Alas! when will they learn
To grow up Peers to him?'"

"You must have met many interesting people at your father's house?" I
observed, during the course of our conversation.

[Illustration: THE HON. MRS. HENNIKER IN HER BOUDOIR.]

"Why, yes," replied she, with an amused smile, "don't you know the
ridiculous story that Mr. Wemyss Reid, in his charming biography of my
father, tells, and which, indeed, I believe was first told by Sir Henry
Taylor, in his autobiography? I will tell it you. You know my father was
acquainted with everybody, and his greatest pleasure in life was to
introduce the notoriety of the moment to the leading members of English
Society. On the particular occasion on which this story was told, it is
alleged that somebody asked whether a certain murderer--it was
Courvoisier, I think, the valet who killed his master--had been hanged
that morning, and my aunt immediately answ