"Eileen had come forward too, but Hildeguard waited for her to speak before noticing the advance. Rex was standing near to her, pointing out the beauties of the watch, the hands, etc. "'And--and--bigger like that'--stretching his arms wide--'bigger like that than your watch.' "'Your watch,' said Eileen, 'is little and tiny, like Mummy's watch. But Mummy's watch pins on here,' dabbing at Hildeguard's blouse. Then suddenly she raised swimming eyes to Hildeguard's: 'I do want Mummy,' she said. "'Darling,' cried Hildeguard, catching Baby with her right arm, so as to free the other to draw Eileen to her--'Darling, so we all do.'" It is a simple account of the little ways of shy children. Many a mother could have written it equally well. But the interest of Elsie Inglis's descriptions of children lies in the fact that they come from the pen of a woman of action, a woman of iron nerve, and they give us the other side of her character. And then--she was a woman whom no child called mother! But thank God the instinct is not one that can be dammed up or lost, and in these writings we get a glimpse of that motherhood which was hers, and which her life showed to be deep enough and wide enough to sweep under its wing the human souls, men, women, and children, who, passing near it, and being in need, cried out for help, and never cried in vain. To quote a fellow-woman: "The emotions which are the strongest force in a woman must not live in the past; they must not be used introspectively, nor for personal pleasure and gratification. Used thus, they destroy the woman and weaken the race. But _flung forward_, flung into interests outside of the woman herself, and thus transmuted into power, they become to her her salvation, and to the race a constructive element." FOOTNOTE: [11] _Dr. Elsie Inglis_, by Lady Frances Balfour. CHAPTER VII THE HOSPICE