"I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." The closing words fell from his sensitive lips with the sad dreamy eyes blinded by tears. At last he had touched the hearts of all. The sincerity and beauty of the simple appeal for the moment hushed bitterness and passion and the cheer was universal. The black-robed figure of the venerable Chief Justice stepped forward with extended open Bible. His bony, trembling fingers and cadaverous intellectual face gave the last touch of dramatic contrast between the old and new regimes. The tall, dark man reverently laid his left hand on the open Book, raised his right arm, and slowly repeated the words of the oath: "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, so help me God!" The words had scarcely died on his lips when the distant boom of cannon proclaimed the new President. The crowd on the platform rose and stood with uncovered heads, while the procession formed in the same order as at its entrance and returned to the White House. "What do you think of it?" Betty asked breathlessly, turning to Ned. The firm young lips came together with sudden passion: "The argument has ended. To your tents, O Israel! It means war----" "Nonsense," John broke in impetuously. "It means anything or nothing. It's hot and cold--a straddle, a contradiction----" He paused and turned to Betty: "What do you think?" "Of the President?" she asked dreamily. "Of his Inaugural," John corrected. "I don't know whether it means peace or war, not being a statesman, but of one thing I'm sure----" She paused and Ned leaned close: "Yes?" "That a great man has appeared on the scene----" Both men laughed and she went on with deep earnestness: "I mean it--he's splendid--he's wonderful! He's a poet--a dreamer--and so typically Southern, Mr. Ned Vaughan. I could easily picture him fighting a duel over a fine point of honor, as he did once. He's patient, careful, wise, cautious--very tender and very strong. To me he's inspired----" Again both men laughed. "I honestly believe that God has sent him into the Kingdom for such a time as this." "You get that impression from his rambling address with its obvious effort to straddle the Universe?" John asked incredulously. "Not from what he said," Betty persisted, "so much as the way he said it--though I got the very clear idea that his purpose is to save the Union. He made that thought ring through my mind over all others."