Yet it could not escape him that the charmingly beautiful girl was his ideal, the divinity about whom the dreams of an honorable young man may be woven. She completed her studies at school, and went for a trip to Europe in company with her mother. They were gone a year. When they returned young Major McKinley had evidently advanced somewhat in worldly estate. He had secured a number of fees, and was saving money. As he lived at all times within his means, he had arrived at the honorable distinction of a bank account. It is probable he selected the Saxton bank solely because it was convenient of location, being near the stairway which led to his modest office, and directly on his way as he passed to and from the courthouse. And yet it must have been a matter of agreeable surprise to him when he entered the bank one morning and found Miss Ida Saxton occupying a place at the cashier’s window. Of course they had met. It would scarcely have been possible for them to escape that. But there had been small acquaintance between them. And this new relation, which touched on the borders of both the business and the social life, was a means of developing an attachment which it is doubtful if any other course could have afforded. Miss Saxton had taken a place in the bank because of an impulse, as common as it is honorable, that she must “do something.” There was, of course, no necessity for her to struggle to become self-supporting. But there was, on the other hand, no purpose in her mind to be weakly dependent. There was the place of their better acquaintance. There he learned to admire more and more the bright, happy young woman, as fair as the morning, and as careful as the American daughter should be. And there she learned to respect the strong, steady young lawyer, the masterful man, the prudent and sagacious citizen. The fact was, he was fair to look upon, strong, healthful of body, and that he still possessed somewhat of the glow which military glory sheds upon those who had honorable part in the great struggle. Of their courtship it were both bold and unpardonable to speak. Whatever detail of that interesting period might, with propriety, have been said while both were living, is hushed in the shadow of the death chamber now and becomes too sacred for discussion. They were married January 25, 1871. William McKinley was at that time twenty-eight years old and his bride was five years younger. It is a significant fact in the life of this good woman that she almost immediately united with the Methodist church, and joined her husband in attendance upon its forms of worship.