Enthusiastic praise was given veterans in the parade. When General Cecil Clay, who had charge of the District militia, passed the reviewing stand he raised the remnant of his right arm in salute, and the spectators rose and cheered with all their might. General Howard, who had but his left arm remaining, was similarly greeted when he put his reins between his teeth and saluted with his left arm. When, at the conclusion of the parade, the President stepped on the portico of the White House, he was met by Mrs. Grant, the widow of the illustrious warrior and ex-President, who, in company with Bishop Newman, had been patiently waiting for this opportunity of meeting him. He greeted them so cordially that both felt fully repaid for their long wait. The President then entered the White House, and a great crowd that had followed his footsteps closed up against the doors. Failing to secure admission, they took their station at the windows and eagerly struggled to get at least a glimpse of the interior. The President received a few intimate friends, including Senator Hanna; then dinner was served. The guests were Abner McKinley, brother of the President, Mr. and Mrs. M. C. Barber and daughter Mary, and Mrs. Maria Saxton. The initial dinner at the White House was entirely informal. Although no callers were received after dinner, thousands of curious people crowded the portico and demanded admittance. It was only by the vigorous efforts of a cordon of police that the doorway was kept clear. Again the Pension Building was the magnet, drawing youth, beauty, and fashion, as well as the curious, to tread the stately measure of the march and dance. This time the magnificent ballroom was a symphony of white and gold, which made a glowing background for the rainbow tints of the gowns. Mrs. McKinley’s ball gown of her favourite shade of blue silk had a long train, high neck, and long sleeves. It was a lovely combination of brocade and point lace, diamond pins fastening the lace at the corsage. Diamond-studded side combs held her hair in soft puffs in front in accordance with the prevailing fashion. The President’s aged mother, very stately in her rich black satin, seemed to get as much enjoyment out of the ball as she had got out of the proceedings at the Capitol. After the presidential party had greeted the assemblage as they passed through the ballroom, supper was served in the room splendidly decorated for them, and they returned to the White House early, as Mrs. McKinley’s fragile strength had been put to a severe test through the long, exciting day. The President’s mother, whose joy in her distinguished son and his honours was a rejuvenating tonic, was also fatigued.