In her "den" on that Christmas Eve she is described thus to us by Elsie
Inglis:


"Ann had put holly berries over the pictures, and the mantelpiece,
too, was covered with it. Between the masses of green and the red
berries stood the solid, old-fashioned, gilt frames of long ago,
the photographs in them becoming yellow with age. Hildeguard turned
to them from the portraits on the walls. She stood, her hands
resting on the edge of the mantelpiece. Then suddenly it came to
her that her whole attitude towards life and death had altered. For
long these old photographs had stood to her as symbols of a past
glowing with happiness. Though the pain still lingered even after
time had dulled the edge, yet the old pictures typified all that
was best in life, and the dim mist of the years rose up between the
good days and her.

"But now, as she looked, her thoughts did not turn to the past. In
some unexplained way the loves of long ago seemed to be entwined
with a future so wonderful and so enticing that her heart bounded
as she thought of it.


"'Grow old along with me;
The best is yet to be.'


"Only last Christmas those words would have meant nothing to her.
Then her bark seemed to be stranded among shallows. She felt that
she was an old woman, and 'second bests' her lot in the coming