Her support was gone, but she had not broken down. Dry-eyed, she gazed upon him. She fondled his face. She did not seem to realize he was dead.
Then she was led away to the head of the stairs, where she could hear the services.
The extremity of impressiveness followed when the new President stood beside the casket steeling himself for a look into the face of the dead.
The tension in the room was great. Every one seemed to be waiting. The minister of the gospel stood with the holy book in his hand ready to begin.
Perhaps it might have been sixty seconds. It seemed longer. Then the President turned and advanced one step. He bowed his head and looked. Long he gazed, standing immovable, save for a twitching of the muscles of the chin. At last he stepped back. Tears were in President Roosevelt’s eyes as he went to the chair reserved for him.
Another dramatic scene came when the service was over and the Rev. Mr. Locke had pronounced the benediction. Before any one had moved, and while there was the same perfect stillness, Senator Hanna, who had not before found courage to look upon the dead face of his friend, stepped out from where he had been standing behind Governor Odell. It was his last chance to see the features of President McKinley. There was a look on his face that told more than sobs would have done. It was the look of a man whose grief was pent up within him.
The Senator had quite a few steps to take to get to the head of the casket. When he got to the head of the bier, by President Roosevelt, he stood with his head resting on his breast and his hands clasped behind his back, looking down on the face of his friend. He stood there possibly a minute, but to every one it seemed more like five. No one stirred while he stood. The scene was beyond expression.
As the Senator turned his head around those in the room saw his face, and there were tears trickling down it. One of the Cabinet members put out his arm and the Senator instinctively seemed to follow it. He went between Senator Long and Attorney-General Knox and sat down in a chair near the wall; then he bowed his head.
To most of those present at the services at the Milburn house, the dead President had been friend and comrade, a relationship beside which that of President seemed for the moment to sink into insignificance. It was as his friends that they heard the two hymns sung and the passage from the Bible read.
It was so impressive that the people who were there stood silent, with something tugging at their throats and making sobs impossible. There were no sobs heard, and yet there were those there who had known the dead President all his life. Many eyes were filled with tears, but they were shed softly. While the services proceeded there was no audible sound of grief.