"Poor Tad." Lincoln stroked the small, hot head. "It is my fault, Doctor. Mrs. Lincoln was out; so he and I just browsed 'round for dinner. I ate most of the meat, and he the cream puffs. It wasn't an equal division, was it, Tad? Must you be going, Doctor?"
"Yes; if one of these green tablets dissolved in half a glass of water is given every three hours the nausea will cease. By the way, Mr. President, before I leave, I want to ask if you will give me a pass through our lines to Richmond. I have received word that my brother lies dangerously wounded in one of their hospitals. We have not met for years, and I"—the doctor cleared his throat—"I would like to see him once again before we are parted for aye."
"Certainly!" Lincoln strode over to Tad's table and wrote a few lines; then tore off the top sheet from the latter's school pad. "I hope this will help you. I've given passes to Richmond to my generals, but they haven't got there yet."
Lincoln's careworn face lighted with his rare smile. The strain of hope deferred was telling on the President, and Doctor Boyd scrutinized him professionally for a moment.
"I've seen you look worse," he growled, "but what I don't understand is how you keep so damned good-natured."
Lincoln laughed heartily. "That is the question I once asked the wife of one of our backwoodsmen. He would abuse her in public, and she always took it smilingly, so I asked her how she managed it: 'When Jim gets too much for me, I just goes in and bites the bureau. I know I'm doing more harm than he is, and it keeps me good-natured.' My 'bureau' is pretty well scarred by now," added Lincoln, chuckling. "I don't wish to detain you, Doctor, but Mrs. Lincoln wants to see you a moment in the East Room if you can stop there on your way out. Now, Tad, be a good boy, and obey the nurse."
"And don't eat too much," cautioned Doctor Boyd, as he followed the President out of the room.
The East Room was crowded with the usual throngs that gathered every Thursday night. After reassuring Mrs. Lincoln as to her son's condition, Doctor Boyd stationed himself behind the President and watched the animated scene with interest, for once forgetful of his duties elsewhere. Men and women in every walk of life were present. Generals rubbed elbows with privates; statesmen with day laborers; well-dressed women stood next women in faded and patched attire. All were greeted by a cordial handshake and a pleasant word as they filed past Lincoln. The doctor smiled sardonically as he saw the circle of admirers about pretty Mrs. Bennett. Was it possible that her blue eyes, childlike in their candor, her simpering smile, and affected manner were masks assumed to cover her machinations? She a Union spy? It seemed incredible. If so, was she clever enough to injure Nancy? Moving with the crowd, she gradually worked her way to where Boyd stood.
"You never find time to come to my house, Doctor," she pouted.
"Send for me professionally," retorted Boyd, "and I will come at once."