rom the depth of her own inner experiences of solved problems,
the mantle of joy and freedom with which she herself was clothed.

The causes to which Elsie Inglis became a tower of strength; the "nation
she twice saved from despair"; the many children, not only those in her
own connection, on whom she lavished love and care, are the witnesses
to-day of the completeness and the splendour of her power to mould each
adverse circumstance in her life and make it yield a great advantage.

CHAPTER VI

"HER CHILDREN"

"Wonderful courage," "intrepidity of action," "strength of purpose," "no
weakening pity"--these are terms that are often used in describing Elsie
Inglis. But there is another side to her character, not so well known,
from its very nature bound to be less known, which it is the purpose of
this chapter to discover.

Elsie Inglis was a very loving woman, and she was a child-lover. From
every source that touched her life, and, touching it, brought her into
contact with child-life, she, by her interest in children, drew to
herself this healing link with the future. The children of her poorer
patients knew well the place they held in her heart. "They would watch
from the windows, on her dispensary days, for her, and she would wave to
them across the street. She would often stop them in the street, and ask
after their mother, and even after she had been to Serbia and had
returned to Edinburgh she remembered them and their home affairs."[11]

The daily letters to her father, written from Glasgow and London and
Dublin, are full of stories about the children of her patients. Who but
a genuine child-lover could have found time to write to a little niece,
under twelve, letters from Serbia and Russia--one in August, 1915,
during "The Long, Peaceful Summer," and the other in an ambulance train
near Odessa?

Her book, _The Story of a Modern Woman_, contains many descriptions
which reveal a mind to whom the ways of children are of deep interest.
We draw once more from the pages of the novel, as in no other way can we
show so well the mother-heart that was hers.

One of Hildeguard's friends, dying in India, leaves three small
children, whom she commends to her pity. Hildeguard's heart responds at
once, and the orphans find their home with her. Her first meeting with
the frightened children and their black nurse is described in detail:

"'Just let's wait a minute or two,' said Hildeguard. 'Let them get