“You almost startle me by your great cheerfulness,” Mary says. They are driving through the springtime, dogwoods and redbuds blooming in the streets beyond the carriage windows, the sun bright, the air warm.

“And well I may feel so, Mary,” he answers, “for I consider this day the war has come to a close. We must both be more cheerful in the future. Between the war and the loss of our darling Willie we have been very miserable.”

On their return a few hours later, he spies a group of old friends from Illinois just leaving the White House. He insists they come back inside; he has time for a comfortable chat. He’s been reading the comic letters of Petroleum V. Nasby, now he shares some of these aloud. He’s enjoying this so much, he ignores the first two calls to an early dinner. Lincoln has never been much interested in food though he does like a chicken fricassee.

Around seven-thirty, he meets with Schuyler Colfax, the Speaker of the House. Colfax has plans to travel West. They discuss the rich mineral lodes of the western mountains and Lincoln feels a wild desire to go to California himself. When his term is over, why not? Anything is possible in these wondrous days of peace.

—

He would rather skip the theater that night, but John T. Ford had invited Mary personally and Lincoln’s attendance has been advertised. Grant, also advertised, has already begged off, Mrs. Grant unwilling to endure a night with Mary. The Stantons have likewise declined. Stanton feels it’s dangerous for Lincoln to go about in public and he won’t condone it by accompanying him. Lincoln’s usual bodyguard is away on business in Richmond. His replacement, John Parker, a large man with enormous whiskers, is famously fond of drink.

Lincoln invites Clara Harris and Major Henry Reed Rathbone. Clara is a particular friend of Mary’s, the daughter of a New York senator. Rathbone is a survivor of Antietam and Clara’s fiancé. Her father is married to his mother so they are also, technically, brother and sister.

Mary is wearing her black and white silk with the embroidered flowers. Lincoln rarely notices her clothes, but Clara is full of compliments he wishes he’d thought to give. They arrive at the theater late by half an hour, enter the hushed and darkened auditorium. The performance stops so the orchestra can play “Hail to the Chief” while the audience claps and cheers. Lincoln is glad he overruled his reluctance and came.

John Parker leads them to a box stage left, decorated especially for them with flags and bunting. He then stays outside it to guard the entrance. Mary takes a seat beside Lincoln, Clara across. Henry sits on a small sofa to Clara’s left. The play resumes.