Mrs. Otherly (rising):  I think I will go.  You don’t mind my saying what I did?

Lincoln:  We are all poor creatures, ma’am.  Think kindly of me. (He takes her hand.) Mary.

MRS. LINCOLN goes out with MRS. OTHERLY.

Mrs. Blow:  Of course it’s very sad for her, poor woman.  But she makes her trouble worse by these perverted views, doesn’t she?  And, I hope you will show no signs of weakening, Mr. President, till it has been made impossible for those shameful rebels to hold up their heads again.  Goliath says you ought to make a proclamation that no mercy will be shown to them afterwards.  I’m sure I shall never speak to one of them again.

Rising.

Well, I must be going.  I’ll see Mrs. Lincoln as I go out.  Good-afternoon, Mr. President. She turns at the door, and offers LINCOLN her handy which he does not take.

Lincoln:  Good-afternoon, madam.  And I’d like to offer ye a word of advice.  That poor mother told me what she thought.  I don’t agree with her, but I honour her.  She’s wrong, but she is noble.  You’ve told me what you think.  I don’t agree with you, and I’m ashamed of you and your like.  You, who have sacrificed nothing, babble about destroying the South while other people conquer it.  I accepted this war with a sick heart, and I’ve a heart that’s near to breaking every day.  I accepted it in the name of humanity, and just and merciful dealing, and the hope of love and charity on earth.  And you come to me, talking of revenge and destruction, and malice, and enduring hate.  These gentle people are mistaken, but they are mistaken cleanly, and in a great name.  It is you that dishonour the cause for which we stand—­it is you who would make it a mean and little thing.  Good-afternoon.

He opens the door and MRS. BLOW, finding words inadequate, goes.  LINCOLN moves across the room and rings a bell.  After a moment, SUSAN comes in.  Susan, if that lady comes here again she may meet with an accident.

Susan:  Yes, sir.  Is that all, sir?

Lincoln:  No, sir, it is not all, sir.  I don’t like this coat.  I am going to change it.  I shall be back in a minute or two, and if a gentleman named Mr. William Custis calls, ask him to wait in here.

He goes out.  SUSAN collects the teacups.  As she is going to the door a quiet, grave white-haired negro appears facing her.  SUSAN starts violently.

The Negro (he talks slowly and very quietly):  It is all right.

Susan:  And who in the name of night might you be?

The Negro:  Mista William Custis.  Mista Lincoln tell me to come here.  Nobody stop me, so I come to look for him.

Susan:  Are you Mr. William Custis?

Custis:  Yes.

Susan:  Mr. Lincoln will be here directly.  He’s gone to change his coat.  You’d better sit down.