"THE BUSY B'S--BALLS, BALLOTS, AND BONDS"

Every telegraph and newspaper office was a roaring whirlpool of
excitement, for the same scenes were being enacted in every centre of the
North. The whole city was now a fairy dream, its dirt and sin, shame and
crime, all wrapped in glorious light.

But above all other impressions was the contagion of the thunder shouts of
hosts of men surging through the streets--the human roar with its animal
and spiritual magnetism, wild, resistless, unlike any other force in the
universe!

Margaret's hand again and again unconsciously tightened its hold on Phil's
arm, and he felt that the whole celebration had been gotten up for his
benefit.

They passed through a little park on their way to Ford's Theatre on 10th
Street, and the eye of the Southern girl was quick to note the budding
flowers and full-blown lilacs.

"See what an early spring!" she cried. "I know the flowers at home are
gorgeous now."

"I shall hope to see you among them some day, when all the clouds have
lifted," he said.

She smiled and replied with simple earnestness:

"A warm welcome will await your coming."

And Phil resolved to lose no time in testing it.

They turned into 10th Street, and in the middle of the block stood the
plain three-story brick structure of Ford's Theatre, an enormous crowd
surging about its five doorways and spreading out on the sidewalk and half
across the driveway.

"Is that the theatre?" asked Margaret.

"Yes."

"Why, it looks like a church without a steeple."

"Exactly what it really is, Miss Margaret. It was a Baptist church. They
turned it into a playhouse, by remodelling its gallery into a dress-circle
and balcony and adding another gallery above. My grandmother Stoneman is a
devoted Baptist, and was an attendant at this church. My father never goes
to church, but he used to go here occasionally to please her. Elsie and I
frequently came."

Phil pushed his way rapidly through the crowd with a peculiar sense of
pleasure in making a way for Margaret and in defending her from the
jostling throng.

They found Elsie at the door, stamping her foot with impatience.

"Well, I must say, Phil, this is prompt for a soldier who had positive
orders," she cried. "I've been here an hour."

"Nonsense, Sis, I'm ahead of time," he protested.

Elsie held up her watch.

"It's a quarter past eight. Every seat is filled, and they've stopped
selling standing-room. I hope you have good