il by evening it stood out clear and strong. The note
of _Victory_. I had a curious impression that her spirit was there, just
before it passed on to larger spheres, and that it was glad. I felt I
must tell you. I wonder if you felt it too. The note of Victory was
bigger than the war. The Soul triumphant passing on. The Reveille
expressed it."

[Illustration: _Photo by D. Scott_

THE HIGH STREET, EDINBURGH, LOOKING TOWARDS ST. GILES]

In the two Memorial Services held to commemorate Dr. Inglis, one in St.
Giles's Cathedral and the other in St. Margaret's, Westminster, a week
later, the whole nation and all the interests of her life were
represented.

Royalty was represented, the Foreign Office, the War Office, the
Admiralty, different bodies of women workers, the Suffrage cause, the
Medical world, the Serbians, and--the children.

Scores of "her children" were in St. Giles's, scattered through the
congregation; in the crowds who lined the streets, they were seen
hanging on to their mothers' skirts; and they were round the open grave
in the Dean Cemetery. These were the children of the wynds and closes of
the High Street, some of them bearing her name, "Elsie Maud," to whom
she had never been too tired or too busy to respond when they needed her
medical help or when "they waved to her across the street."

"The estimate of a life of such throbbing energy, the summing up of
achievement and influence in due proportion--these belong to a future
day. But we are wholly justified in doing honour to the memory of a
woman whose personality won the heart of an entire brave nation, and of
whom one of the gallant Serbian officers who bore her body to the grave
said, with simple earnestness: 'We would almost rather have lost a
battle than lost her!'"[23]

"Alongside the wider public loss, the full and noble public recognition,
there stands in the shadow the unspoken sorrow of her Unit. The price
has been paid, and paid as Dr. Inglis herself would have wished it, on
the high completion of a chapter in her work, but we stand bowed before
the knowledge of how profound and how selfless was that surrender.
Month after month her courage and her endurance never flagged. Daily and
hourly, in the very agony of suffering and death, she gave her life by
inches. Sad and more difficult though the road must seem to us now, our
privilege has been a proud one: to have served and worked with her, to
have known the unfailing support of her s