ulating her on
her first novel "Sir George," for Mrs. Henniker, notwithstanding the
rather unfortunate fact that she has many social duties to attend to,
which must necessarily hinder her in what would otherwise be a brilliant
literary career, is a remarkably fine writer of a certain class of
fiction, and notably of what may be termed the Society novel. But almost
better than her novels, of which she has produced some two or three
within the last few years, are her short stories, of which she published
one, a singularly able study of lower middle-class life, in an early
number of the "Speaker," and which many of the readers of that journal
will remember under the title of a "Bank Holiday." With reference to
"Sir George," Mr. Gladstone, who is a very old friend of her family,
wrote: "My dear Mrs. Henniker,--It is, I admit, with fear and trembling
that I commonly open a novel which is presented to me." He then goes on
to speak in strong terms of eulogy of the book which she had sent to
him. The letter was not without a special interest as giving one a
glimpse into the mind of the G.O.M. on what must be one of the most
arduous duties of his hardworking life. Referring to the publication of
her most recent novel, "Foiled," which is a depiction of Society life as
it actually is, and not, as is so frequently the case, of the writer's
imagination as to what Society is or should be, I asked Mrs. Henniker if
she wrote her stories from life.

[Illustration: THE PICTURE GALLERY.]

"Well," she replied, "of course there is a general idea in my stories
which is taken from the life I see around me, but, as a rule, I draw
from my own imagination. I am a very quick writer, and I wrote 'Sir
George' in one summer holiday. Mr. T. P. O'Connor wanted me to write a
novel to start the new edition of his Sunday paper with, but,
unfortunately, I had none ready. I find myself that, for character
sketching, next to studying people from life, the best thing is to
carefully go through the writings of such people as Alfred de Musset,
whose little _caprices_ are so delicate. I think that the best Society
novelists at present, who write with a real knowledge of the people they
are describing, are W. E. Norris, Julian Sturgis, and Rhoda Broughton."
We continued in conversation for some time longer, until the time came
for afternoon tea, when Mrs. Henniker suggested that we should join the
rest of the party in the drawing room.

Here we found a number