With utter indifference to his own fame or future, the President joined the public in praise of the coming star. The big heart at the White House rejoiced in the strength of his Commanding General. But the man who measured the world by the fixed standards of an exact science had no powers of adjustment to the homely manners, simple unconventional ways, and whimsical moods of Abraham Lincoln. McClellan's one answer to all inquiries about his relation to the Chief Executive was: "The President is honest and means well!" The smile that played about the corners of his fine, keen, blue eyes when he said this left no doubt in the mind of his hearer as to his real opinion of the poor country lawyer who had by accident been placed in the White House. And so the inevitable happened. The suggestions of the President and his War Department were early resented as meddling with affairs which did not concern them. The President saw with keen sorrow that there were brewing schemes behind the compelling blue eyes of the "Napoleon" he had created. The talk of McClellan's aspirations to a military dictatorship, which would include the authority of the Executive and the Legislative branches of the Government, had been current for more than two months. His recent manner and bearing had given color to these reports. The splendor and ceremony of his headquarters could not have been surpassed by Alexander or Napoleon. His growing staff already included a Prince of the Royal Blood, the distinguished son of the Emperor of France, and the Comte de Paris his attendant. His baggage train was drawn by one hundred magnificent horses perfectly matched, hitched in teams of four to twenty-five glittering new vans. His Grand Army spread over mile after mile of territory far back into the hills of Virginia. The autumnal days were brilliant with fresh uniforms, stars, sabres, swords, spurs, plate, dinners, wines, cigars, the pomp and pride and glory of war. Men stood in little groups and discussed in whispers the significance of his continued stay in the Capital. "If the President has any friends, the hour has come when they've got to stand by him!" The speaker was a man of fifty, a foreigner who had made Washington his home and liked Lincoln. "Nonsense, my dear fellow," a tall Westerner replied, "we may have to get a few rifles and guard the White House from somebody's attempt to occupy it, but we'll not need any big guns." "If you'd heard the talk last night," the foreigner replied, with a shrug of his shoulder, "you'd change your mind----" The Westerner shook his head: "No! The General's not that big a fool and the men around him have better sense. And if they haven't--if they all should go crazy--it couldn't be done. They couldn't control the army." "Did you ever hear the army cheer as 'Little Mac' rides along the line?" "Yes, but it don't mean an Emperor for all that----" "I'm not so sure!"