It was August 6, 1914, that Mrs. Wilson died. She had won the hearts of the people by her sympathy toward all in need and suffering. The nation grieved with the White House family. Her death was a shock such as Washington had not felt for years. When the big iron gates were closed and locked, the shades drawn, and the sombre emblem of death hung from the door of the White House, the whole city responded to the grief within, lowered its flags, and stopped its merrymakings and frolics. Telegrams flooded the White House, and flowers filled the rooms. They came from every class and degree of society from the newsboys to the representatives of foreign governments; and from the handsome offerings of the Boy Scouts to the simple bouquet of some lowly protêgê. The interment was in Georgia. For a time, President Wilson seemed to find continuous work the only relief from sorrow. With the combined strength and influence of his Cabinet he turned his attention to securing the passage by Congress of a new tariff bill. During this time the Federal Reserve bill had become a law; President Madero of Mexico had been deposed and assassinated; Huerta was fighting for recognition; the insult to the United States Flag on April 9, 1914, had called for action; and Vera Cruz was occupied by Marines in consequence. When rumour started that President Wilson was planning to bring a new First Lady to the White House, great interest and much excitement prevailed. The third President to wed in office, Woodrow Wilson formed what the most severe critics termed a thoroughly suitable match. Both he and his charming fiancêe, Mrs. Edith Bolling Galt, had been married before, both had passed through similar griefs, and life for each had been crowded with enriching experiences. They had so many tastes in common, were natives of the same state, admirably matched by birth, circumstances, and experience to form an ideal life partnership. From the time their betrothal was announced until the date of the wedding was officially named, two months later, all Washington kept a ceaseless vigil on the comings and goings of these two, and watched with approving but suspicious eyes all of their rides, drives, and walks, their games of golf, their theatre attendance and appearance at public functions, lest at some opportune moment a marriage would occur without previous announcement. When, finally, the date was set and made public, speculation ran rife as to the ceremony and its interesting details.