plained bitterly, and went into the ward most reluctantly, to see her
son, said to be dying.

She saw her son, and kissed him, and then asked to be sent back to
Ypres. The _Directrice_ explained that the child would not live through
the night. The Belgian mother accepted this statement, but again asked
to be sent back to Ypres. The _Directrice_ again assured the Belgian
mother that her son would not live through the night, and asked her to
spend the night with him in the ward, to assist at his passing. The
Belgian woman protested.

"If _Madame la Directrice_ commands, if she insists, then I must
assuredly obey. I have come all this distance because she commanded me,
and if she insists that I spend the night at this place, then I must do
so. Only if she does not insist, then I prefer to return to my home, to
my other children at Ypres."

However, the _Directrice_, who had a strong sense of a mother's duty to
the dying, commanded and insisted, and the Belgian woman gave way. She
sat by her son all night, listening to his ravings and bawlings, and was
with him when he died, at three o'clock in the morning. After which
time, she requested to be taken back to Ypres. She was moved by the
death of her son, but her duty lay at home. _Madame la Directrice_ had
promised to have a mass said at the burial of the child, which promise
having been given, the woman saw no necessity for remaining.

"My husband," she explained, "has a little _estaminet_, just outside of
Ypres. We have been very fortunate. Only yesterday, of all the long days
of the war, of the many days of bombardment, did a shell fall into our
kitchen, wounding our son, as you have seen. But we have other children
to consider, to provide for. And my husband is making much money at
present, selling drink to the English soldiers. I must return to assist
him."

So the Belgian civilian was buried in the cemetery of the French
soldiers, but many hours before this took place, the mother of the
civilian had departed for Ypres. The chauffeur of the ambulance which
was to convey her back to Ypres turned very white when given his
orders. Everyone dreaded Ypres, and the dangers of Ypres. It was the
place of death. Only the Belgian woman, whose husband kept an
_estaminet_, and made much money selling drink to the English soldiers,
did not dread it. She and her husband were making much money out of the
war, money which would give their children a start in life. When the
ambula