Two sentries, one from the sea and one from the land, guarded the remains. They stood in the window embrasures behind the head of the casket. The one on the north was a sergeant of infantry. In the other window was the sailor, garbed in the loose blue blouse of the navy. The family had taken leave of their loved one before the others arrived. Mrs. Hobart, widow of the Vice-President during Mr. McKinley’s first term; Mrs. Lafayette McWilliams of Chicago, Miss Barber, Miss Mary Barber, and Dr. Rixey remained with Mrs. McKinley during the services. The other members of the family—Mr. and Mrs. Abner McKinley, Miss Helen McKinley, Mrs. Duncan, Miss Duncan, Mr. and Mrs. Barber, and Dr. and Mrs. Baer—had withdrawn into the library to the north of the drawing-room, in which the casket lay, and here also gathered other friends when the service was held. The friends and public associates of the dead President all had opportunity to view the remains before the service began. The members of the Cabinet had taken their leave before the others arrived. They remained seated beside their dead chief while the sad procession viewed the body. They were on the north side of it. A place directly at the head had been reserved for President Roosevelt. Secretary Root sat alongside this empty chair. Then came Attorney-General Knox, Secretary Long, Secretary Hitchcock, Secretary Wilson, and Postmaster-General Smith, in the order named. Senator Hanna entered the room at this time, but did not approach the casket. His face was set like an iron-willed man who would not let down the barriers of his grief. The Senator spoke to no one. His eyes were vacant. He passed through the throng and seated himself behind Governor Odell, sinking far down into his chair and resting his head upon his hand. During all the service that followed he did not stir. Just before 11 o’clock President Roosevelt entered, coming into the room from the rear through the library. After passing into the hall he had made his way around through the sitting-room behind into the library. There was an instantaneous movement in the room as the President appeared. The procession was still passing from the south side, around the head of the casket and back between it and the members of the Cabinet seated at its side. Every one rose and all eyes were turned toward the President. He moved forward again with the tide of the procession to his place at the head of the line of Cabinet officers. He held himself erect, his left hand carrying his silk hat. Those who were coming toward him fell back on either side to let him pass. He paused once or twice to shake hands silently, but there was no smile to accompany his greetings. He, too, like the man deep down in his seat against the wall, who had forgotten to rise when the President of the United States entered, seemed to be restraining a great grief.