scarlett slept little that night. when the dawn had come and the sun was creeping overthe black pines on the hills to the east, she rose from her tumbled bed and, seating herself on astool by the window, laid her tired head on her arm and looked out over the barn yard and orchardof tara toward the cotton fields. everything was fresh and dewy and silent and green and the sightof the cotton fields brought a measure of balm and comfort to her sore heart. tara, at sunrise,looked loved, well tended and at peace, for all that its master lay dead. the squatty log chickenhouse was clay daubed against rats weasels and clean with whitewash, and so was the log stable.

the garden with its rows of corn, bright-yellow squash, butter beans and turnips was well weededand neatly fenced with split-oak rails. the orchard was cleared of underbrush and only daisiesgrew beneath the long rows of trees. the sun picked out with faint glistening the apples and thefurred pink peaches half hidden in the green leaves. beyond lay the curving rows of cotton, still and green under the gold of the new sky. the ducks and chickens were waddling and strutting offtoward the fields, for under the bushes in the soft plowed earth were found the choicest worms andslugs.

scarlett’s heart swelled with affection and gratitude to will who had done all of this. even herloyalty to ashley could not make her believe he had been responsible for much of this well-being,for tara’s bloom was not the work of a planter-aristocrat, but of the plodding, tireless “smallfarmer” who loved his land. it was a “two-horse” farm, not the lordly plantation of other days withpastures full of mules and fine horses and cotton and corn stretching as far as eye could see. butwhat there was of it was good and the acres that were lying fallow could be reclaimed when timesgrew better, and they would be the more fertile for their rest.

will had done more than merely farm a few acres. he had kept sternly at bay those two enemiesof georgia planters, the seedling pine and the blackberry brambles. they had not stealthily takengarden and pasture and cotton field and lawn and reared themselves insolently by the porches oftara, as they were doing on numberless plantations throughout the state.

scarlett’s heart failed a beat when she thought how close tara had come to going back towilderness. between herself and will, they had done a good job. they had held off the yankees,the carpetbaggers and the encroachments of nature. and, best of all, will had told her that afterthe cotton came in in the fall, she need send no more money—unless some other carpetbaggercoveted tara and skyrocketed the taxes. scarlett knew will would have a hard pull without herhelp but she admired and respected his independence. as long as he was in the position of hiredhelp he would take her money, but now that he was to become her brother-in-law and the man ofthe house, he intended to stand on his own efforts. yes, will was something the lord had provided.

pork had dug the grave the night before, close by ellen’s grave, and he stood, spade in hand,behind the moist red clay he was soon to shovel back in place. scarlett stood behind him in thepatchy shade of a gnarled low-limbed cedar, the hot sun of the june morning dappling her, andtried to keep her eyes away from the red trench in front of her. jim tarleton, little hugh munroe,alex fontaine and old man mcrae’s youngest grandson came slowly and awkwardly down thepath from the house bearing gerald’s coffin on two lengths of split oak. behind them, at arespectful distance, followed a large straggling crowd of neighbors and friends, shabbily dressed,silent. as they came down the sunny path through the garden, pork bowed his head upon the top ofthe spade handle and cried; and scarlett saw with incurious surprise that the kinks on his head, sojettily black when she went to atlanta a few months before, were now grizzled.

she thanked god tiredly that she had cried all her tears the night before, so now she could standerect and dry eyed. the sound of suellen’s tears, put back of her shoulder, irritated her unbearablyand she had to clench her fists to keep from turning and slapping the swollen face. sue had beenthe cause of her father’s death, whether she intended it or not, and she should have the decency tocontrol herself in front of the hostile neighbors. not a single person had spoken to her that morningor given her one look of sympathy. they had kissed scarlett quietly, shaken her hand, murmuredkind words to carreen and even to pork but had looked through suellen as if she were not there.

to them she had done worse than murder her father. she had tried to betray him into disloyalty to the south. and to that grim and close-knit community it was as if she had tried to betray thehonor of them all. she had broken the solid front the county presented to the world. by herattempt to get money from the yankee government she had aligned herself with carpetbaggers andscalawags, more hated enemies than the yankee soldiers had ever been. she, a member of an oldand staunchly confederate family, a planter’s family, had gone over to the enemy and by so doinghad brought shame on every family in the county.

the mourners were seething with indignation and downcast with sorrow, especially three ofthem—old man mcrae, who had been gerald’s crony since he came to the up-country fromsavannah so many years before, grandma fontaine who loved him because he was ellen’shusband, and mrs. tarleton who had been closer to him than to any of her neighbors because, asshe often said, he was the only man in the county who knew a stallion from a gelding.

the sight of the stormy faces of these three in the dim parlor where gerald lay before the funeralhad caused ashley and will some uneasiness and they had retired to ellen’s office for aconsultation.

“some of them are goin’ to say somethin’ about suellen,” said will abruptly, biting his straw inhalf. they think they got just cause to say somethin’. maybe they have. it ain’t for me to say. but,ashley, whether they’re right or not, we’ll have to resent it, bein’ the men of the family, and thenthere’ll be trouble. can’t nobody do nothin’ with old man mcrae because he’s deaf as a post andcan’t hear folks tryin’ to shut him up. and you know there ain’t nobody in god’s world everstopped grandma fontaine from speakin’ her mind. and as for mrs. tarleton—did you see her rollthem russet eyes of hers every time she looked at sue? she’s got her ears laid back and can’thardly wait. if they say somethin’, we got to take it up and we got enough trouble at tara nowwithout bein’ at outs with our neighbors.”

ashley sighed worriedly. he knew the tempers of his neighbors better than will did and heremembered that fully half of the quarrels and some of the shootings of the days before the warhad risen from the county custom of saying a few words over the coffins of departed neighbors.

generally the words were eulogistic in the extreme but occasionally they were not. sometimes,words meant in the utmost respect were misconstrued by overstrung relatives of the dead andscarcely were the last shovels of earth mounded above the coffin before trouble began.

in the absence of a priest ashley was to conduct the services with the aid of carreen’s book ofdevotions, the assistance of the methodist and baptist preachers of jonesboro and fayettevillehaving been tactfully refused. carreen, more devoutly catholic than her sisters, had been veryupset that scarlett had neglected to bring a priest from atlanta with her and had only been a littleeased by the reminder that when the priest came down to marry will and suellen, he could read theservices over gerald. it was she who objected to the neighboring protestant preachers and gave thematter into ashley’s hands, marking passages in her book for him to read. ashley, leaning againstthe old secretary, knew that the responsibility for preventing trouble lay with him and, knowing thehair-trigger tempers of the county, was at a loss as to how to proceed.

“there’s no help for it, will,” he said, rumpling his bright hair. “i can’t knock grandma fontainedown or old man mcrae either, and i can’t hold my hand over mrs. tarleton’s mouth. and themildest thing they’ll say is that suellen is a murderess and a traitor and but for her mr. o’hara would still be alive. damn this custom of speaking over the dead. it’s barbarous.”

“look, ash,” said will slowly. “i ain’t aimin’ to have nobody say nothin’ against suellen, nomatter what they think. you leave it to me. when you’ve finished with the readin’ and the prayin’

and you say: ‘if anyone would like to say a few words,’ you look right at me, so i can speak first.”

but scarlett, watching the pallbearers’ difficulty in getting the coffin through the narrowentrance into the burying ground, had no thought of trouble to come after the funeral. she wasthinking with a leaden heart that in burying gerald she was burying one of the last links that joinedher to the old days of happiness and irresponsibility.

finally the pallbearers set the coffin down near the grave and stood clenching and unclenchingtheir aching fingers. ashley, melanie and will filed into the enclosure and stood behind the o’haragirls. all the closer neighbors who could crowd in were behind them and the others stood outsidethe brick wall. scarlett, really seeing them for the first time, was surprised and touched by the sizeof the crowd. with transportation so limited it was kind of so many to come. there were fifty orsixty people there, some of them from so far away she wondered how they had heard in time tocome. there were whole families from jonesboro and fayetteville and lovejoy and with them afew negro servants. many small farmers from far across the river were present and crackers fromthe backwoods and a scattering of swamp folk. the swamp men were lean bearded giants inhomespun, coon-skin caps on their heads, their rifles easy in the crooks of their arms, their wads oftobacco stilled in their cheeks. their women were with them, their bare feet sunk in the soft redearth, their lower lips full of snuff. their faces beneath their sun-bonnets were sallow and malarial-looking but shining clean and their freshly ironed calicoes glistened with starch.

the near neighbors were there in full force. grandma fontaine, withered, wrinkled and yellowas an old molted bird, was leaning on her cane, and behind her were sally munroe fontaine andyoung miss fontaine. they were trying vainly by whispered pleas and jerks at her skirt to makethe old lady sit down on the brick wall. grandma’s husband, the old doctor, was not there. he haddied two months before and much of the bright malicious joy of life had gone from her old eyes.

cathleen calvert hilton stood alone as befitted one whose husband had helped bring about thepresent tragedy, her faded sunbonnet hiding her bowed face. scarlett saw with amazement that herpercale dress had grease spots on it and her hands were freckled and unclean. there were evenblack crescents under her fingernails. there was nothing of quality folks about cathleen now. shelooked cracker, even worse. she looked poor white, shiftless, slovenly, trifling.

“she’ll be dipping snuff soon, if she isn’t doing it already,” thought scarlett in horror. “goodlord! what a comedown!”

she shuddered, turning her eyes from cathleen as she realized how narrow was the chasmbetween quality folk and poor whites.

“there but for a lot of gumption am i,” she thought, and pride surged through her as she realizedthat she and cathleen had started with the same equipment after the surrender—empty hands andwhat they had in their heads.

“i haven’t done so bad,” she thought, lifting her chin and smiling.

but she stopped in mid-smile as she saw the scandalized eyes of mrs. tarleton upon her. her eyes were red-rimmed from tears and, after giving scarlett a reproving look, she turned her gazeback to suellen, a fierce angry gaze that boded ill for her. behind her and her husband were thefour tarleton girls, their red locks indecorous notes in the solemn occasion, their russet eyes stilllooking like the eyes of vital young animals, spirited and dangerous.

feet were stilled, hats were removed, hands folded and skirts rustled into quietness as ashleystepped forward with carreen’s worn book of devotions in his hand. he stood for a momentlooking down, the sun glittering on his golden head. a deep silence fell on the crowd, so deep thatthe harsh whisper of the wind in the magnolia leaves came clear to their ears and the far-offrepetitious note of a mockingbird sounded unendurably loud and sad. ashley began to read theprayers and all heads bowed as his resonant, beautifully modulated voice rolled out the brief anddignified words.

“oh!” thought scarlett, her throat constricting. “how beautiful his voice is! if anyone has to dothis for pa, i’m glad it’s ashley. i’d rather have him than a priest. i’d rather have pa buried by oneof his own folks than a stranger.”

when ashley came to the part of the prayers concerning the souls in purgatory, which carreenhad marked for him to read, he abruptly closed the book. only carreen noticed the omission andlooked up puzzled, as he began the lord’s prayer. ashley knew that half the people present hadnever heard of purgatory and those who had would take it as a personal affront, if he insinuated,even in prayer, that so fine a man as mr. o’hara had not gone straight to heaven. so, in deferenceto public opinion, he skipped all mention of purgatory. the gathering joined heartily in the lord’sprayer but their voices trailed off into embarrassed silence when he began the hail mary. they hadnever heard that prayer and they looked furtively at each other as the o’hara girls, melanie and thetara servants gave the response: “pray for us, now and at the hour of our death. amen.”

then ashley raised his head and stood for a moment, uncertain. the eyes of the neighbors wereexpectantly upon him as they settled themselves in easier positions for a long harangue. they werewaiting for him to go on with the service, for it did not occur to any of them that he was at the endof the catholic prayers. county funerals were always long. the baptist and methodist ministerswho performed them had no set prayers but extemporized as the circumstances demanded andseldom stopped before all mourners were in tears and the bereaved feminine relatives screamingwith grief. the neighbors would have been shocked, aggrieved and indignant, had these briefprayers been all the service over the body of their loved friend, and no one knew this better thanashley. the matter would be discussed at dinner tables for weeks and the opinion of the countywould be that the o’hara girls had not shown proper respect for their father.

so he threw a quick apologetic glance at carreen and, bowing his head again, began recitingfrom memory the episcopal burial service which he had often read over slaves buried at twelveoaks.

“i am the resurrection and the life ... and whosoever ... believeth in me shall never die.”

it did not come back to him readily and he spoke slowly, occasionally falling silent for a spaceas he waited for phrases to rise from his memory. but this measured delivery made his words moreimpressive, and mourners who had been dry-eyed before began now to reach for handkerchiefs.

sturdy baptists and methodists all, they thought it the catholic ceremony and immediately rear ranged their first opinion that the catholic services were cold and popish. scarlett and suellenwere equally ignorant and thought the words comforting and beautiful. only melanie and carreenrealized that a devoutly catholic irishman was being laid to rest by the church of england’sservice. and carreen was too stunned by grief and her hurt at ashley’s treachery to interfere.

when he had finished, ashley opened wide his sad gray eyes and looked about the crowd. aftera pause, his eyes caught those of will and he said: “is there anyone present who would like to say aword?”

mrs. tarleton twitched nervously but before she could act, will stumped forward and standing atthe head of the coffin began to speak.

“friends,” he began in his flat voice, “maybe you think i’m gettin’ above myself, speakin’ first—me who never knew mr. o’hara till “bout a year ago when you all have known him twentyyears or more. but this here is my excuse. if he’d lived a month or so longer, i’d have had the rightto call him pa.”

a startled ripple went over the crowd. they were too well bred to whisper but they shifted ontheir feet and stared at carreen’s bowed head. everyone knew his dumb devotion to her. seeing thedirection in which all eyes were cast, will went on as if he had taken no note.

“so bein’ as how i’m to marry miss suellen as soon as the priest comes down from atlanta, ithought maybe that gives me the right to speak first.”

the last part of his speech was lost in a faint sibilant buzz that went through the gathering, anangry beelike buzz. there were indignation and disappointment in the sound. everyone liked will,everyone respected him for what he had done for tara. everyone knew his affections lay withcarreen, so the news that he was to marry the neighborhood pariah instead sat ill upon them. goodold will marrying that nasty, sneaking little suellen o’hara!

for a moment the air was tense. mrs. tarleton’s eyes began to snap and her lips to shapesoundless words. in the silence, old man mcrae’s high voice could be heard imploring hisgrandson to tell him what had been said. will faced them all, still mild of face, but there was somethingin his pale blue eyes which dared them to say one word about his future wife. for a momentthe balance hung between the honest affection everyone had for will and their contempt forsuellen. and will won. he continued as if his pause had been a natural one.

“i never knew mr. o’hara in his prime like you all done. all i knew personally was a fine oldgentleman who was a mite addled. but i’ve heard tell from you all “bout what he used to be like.

and i want to say this. he was a fightin’ irishman and a southern gentleman and as loyal aconfederate as ever lived. you can’t get no better combination than that. and we ain’t likely to seemany more like him, because the times that bred men like him are as dead as he is. he was born ina furrin country but the man we’re buryin’ here today was more of a georgian than any of usmournin’ him. he lived our life, he loved our land and, when you come right down to it, he diedfor our cause, same as the soldiers did. he was one of us and he had our good points and our badpoints and he had our strength and he had our failin’s. he had our good points in that couldn’tnothin’ stop him when his mind was made up and he warn’t scared of nothin’ that walked in shoeleather. there warn’t nothin’ that come to him from the outside that could lick him.

“he warn’t scared of the english government when they wanted to hang him. he just lit out andleft home. and when he come to this country and was pore, that didn’t scare him a mite neither. hewent to work and he made his money. and he warn’t scared to tackle this section when it was partwild and the injuns had just been run out of it. he made a big plantation out of a wilderness. andwhen the war come on and his money begun to go, he warn’t scared to be pore again. and whenthe yankees come through tara and might of burnt him out or killed him, he warn’t fazed a bit andhe warn’t licked neither. he just planted his front feet and stood his ground. that’s why i say hehad our good points. there ain’t nothin’ from the outside can lick any of us.

“but he had our failin’s too, ‘cause he could be licked from the inside. i mean to say that whatthe whole world couldn’t do, his own heart could. when mrs. o’hara died, his heart died too andhe was licked. and what we seen walking ‘round here warn’t him.”

will paused and his eyes went quietly around the circle of faces. the crowd stood in the hot sunas if enchanted to the ground and whatever wrath they had felt for suellen was forgotten. will’seyes rested for a moment on scarlett and they crinkled slightly at the corners as if he wereinwardly smiling comfort to her. scarlett, who had been fighting back rising tears, did feelcomforted. will was talking common sense instead of a lot of tootle about reunions in another andbetter world and submitting her will to god’s. and scarlett had always found strength and comfortin common sense.

“and i don’t want none of you to think the less of him for breakin’ like he done. all you all andme, too, are like him. we got the same weakness and failin’. there ain’t nothin’ that walks can lickus, any more than it could lick him, not yankees nor carpetbaggers nor hard times nor high taxesnor even downright starvation. but that weakness that’s in our hearts can lick us in the time it takesto bat your eye. it ain’t always losin’ someone you love that does it, like it done mr. o’hara.

everybody’s mainspring is different. and i want to say this—folks whose mainsprings are bustedare better dead. there ain’t no place for them in the world these days, and they’re happier bein’

dead. ... that’s why i’m sayin’ you all ain’t got no cause to grieve for mr. o’hara now. the time togrieve was back when sherman come through and he lost mrs. o’hara. now that his body’s goneto join his heart, i don’t see that we got reason to mourn, unless we’re pretty damned selfish, andi’m sayin’ it who loved him like he was my own pa. ... there won’t be no more words said, if youfolks don’t mind. the family is too cut up to listen and it wouldn’t be no kindness to them.”

will stopped and, turning to mrs. tarleton, he said in a lower voice: “i wonder couldn’t you takescarlett in the house, ma’m? it ain’t right for her to be standin’ in the sun so long. and grandmafontaine don’t look any too peart neither, meanin’ no disrespect,”

startled at the abrupt switching from the eulogy to herself, scarlett went red with embarrassmentas all eyes turned toward her. why should will advertise her already obvious pregnancy? she gavehim a shamed indignant look, but will’s placid gaze bore her down.

“please,” his look said. “i know what i’m doin’.”

already he was the man of the house and, not wishing to make a scene, scarlett turnedhelplessly to mrs. tarleton. that lady, suddenly diverted, as will had intended, from thoughts ofsuellen to the always fascinating matter of breeding, be it animal or human, took scarlett’s arm.

“come in the house, honey.”

her face took on a look of kind, absorbed interest and scarlett suffered herself to be led throughthe crowd that gave way and made a narrow path for her. there was a sympathetic murmuring asshe passed and several hands went out to pat her comfortingly. when she came abreast grandmafontaine, the old lady put out a skinny claw and said: “give me your arm, child,” and added with afierce glance at sally and young miss: “no, don’t you come. i don’t want you.”

they passed slowly through the crowd which closed behind them and went up the shady pathtoward the house, mrs. tarleton’s eager helping hand so strong under scarlett’s elbow that she wasalmost lifted from the ground at each step.

“now, why did will do that?” cried scarlett heatedly, when they were out of earshot. “hepractically said: ‘look at her! she’s going to have a baby!’ ”

“well, sake’s alive, you are, aren’t you?” said mrs. tarleton. “will did right it was foolish ofyou to stand in the hot sun when you might have fainted and had a miscarriage.”

“will wasn’t bothered about her miscarrying,” said grandma, a little breathless as she laboredacross the front yard toward the steps. there was a grim, knowing smile on her face. “will’s smart.

he didn’t want either you or me, beetrice, at the graveside. he was scared of what we’d say and heknew this was the only way to get rid of us. ... and it was more than that. he didn’t want scarlettto hear the clods dropping on the coffin. and he’s right. just remember, scarlett, as long as youdon’t hear that sound, folks aren’t actually dead to you. but once you hear it ... well, it’s the mostdreadfully final sound in the world. ... help me up the steps, child, and give me a hand, beetrice.

scarlett don’t any more need your arm than she needs crutches and i’m not so peart, as will observed.

... will knew you were your father’s pet and he didn’t want to make it worse for you than italready was. he figured it wouldn’t be so bad for your sisters. suellen has her shame to sustain herand carreen her god. but you’ve got nothing to sustain you, have you, child?”

“no,” answered scarlett, helping the old lady up the steps, faintly surprised at the truth thatsounded in the reedy old voice. “i’ve never had anything to sustain me—except mother.”

“but when you lost her, you found you could stand alone, didn’t you? well, some folks can’t.

your pa was one. will’s right. don’t you grieve. he couldn’t get along without ellen and he’shappier where he is. just like i’ll be happier when i join the old doctor.”

she spoke without any desire for sympathy and the two gave her none. she spoke as briskly andnaturally as if her husband were alive and in jonesboro and a short buggy ride would bring themtogether. grandma was too old and had seen too much to fear death.

“but—you can stand alone too,” said scarlett.

“yes, but it’s powerful uncomfortable at times.”

“look here, grandma,” interrupted mrs. tarleton, “you ought not to talk to scarlett like that.

she’s upset enough already. what with her trip down here and that tight dress and her grief and theheat, she’s got enough to make her miscarry without your adding to it, talking grief and sorrow.”

“god’s nightgown!” cried scarlett in irritation. i’m not upset! and i’m not one of those sicklymiscarrying fools!”

“you never can tell,” said mrs. tarleton omnisciently. “i lost my first when i saw a bull gore oneof our darkies and—you remember my red mare, nellie? now, there was the healthiest-lookingmare you ever saw but she was nervous and high strung and if i didn’t watch her, she’d—”

“beatrice, hush,” said grandma. “scarlett wouldn’t miscarry on a bet. let’s us sit here in thehall where it’s cool. there’s a nice draft through here. now, you go fetch us a glass of buttermilk,beetrice, if there’s any in the kitchen. or look in the pantry and see if there’s any wine. i could dowith a glass. we’ll sit here till the folks come up to say good-by.”

“scarlett ought to be in bed,” insisted mrs. tarleton, running her eyes over her with the expertair of one who calculated a pregnancy to the last-minute of its length.

“get going,” said grandma, giving her a prod with her cane, and mrs. tarleton went toward thekitchen, throwing her hat carelessly on the sideboard and running her hands through her damp redhair.

scarlett lay back in her chair and unbuttoned the two top buttons of her tight basque, it was cooland dim in the high-ceilinged hall and the vagrant draft that went from back to front of the housewas refreshing after the heat of the sun. she looked across the hall into the parlor where gerald hadlain and, wrenching her thoughts from him, looked up at the portrait of grandma robillardhanging above the fireplace. the bayonet-scarred portrait with its high-piled hair, half-exposedbreasts and cool insolence had, as always, a tonic effect upon her.

“i don’t know which hit beetrice tarleton worse, losing her boys or her horses,” said grandmafontaine. “she never did pay much mind to jim or her girls, you know. she’s one of those folkswill was talking about. her mainspring’s busted. sometimes i wonder if she won’t go the wayyour pa went. she wasn’t ever happy unless horses or humans were breeding right in her face andnone of her girls are married or got any prospects of catching husbands in this county, so she’s gotnothing to occupy her mind. if she wasn’t such a lady at heart, she’d be downright common. ...

was will telling the truth about marrying suellen?”

“yes,” said scarlett, looking the old lady full in the eye. goodness, she could remember the timewhen she was scared to death of grandma fontaine! well, she’d grown up since then and she’djust as soon as not tell her to go to the devil if she meddled in affairs at tara.

“he could do better,” said grandma candidly.

“indeed?” said scarlett haughtily.

“come off your high horse, miss,” said the old lady tartly. “i shan’t attack your precious sister,though i might have if i’d stayed at the burying ground. what i mean is with the scarcity of men inthe neighborhood, will could marry most any of the girls. there’s beatrice’s four wild cats and themunroe girls and the mcrae—”

“he’s going to marry sue and that’s that.”

“she’s lucky to get him.”

“tara is lucky to get him.”

“you love this place, don’t you?”

“yes.”

“so much that you don’t mind your sister marrying out of her class as long as you have a manaround to care for tara?”

“class?” said scarlett, startled at the idea. “class? what does class matter now, so long as a girlgets a husband who can take care of her?”

“that’s a debatable question,” said old miss. “some folks would say you were talking commonsense. others would say you were letting down bars that ought never be lowered one inch. will’scertainly not quality folks and some of your people were.”

her sharp old eyes went to the portrait of grandma robillard.

scarlett thought of will, lank, unimpressive, mild, eternally chewing a straw, his wholeappearance deceptively devoid of energy, like that of most crackers. he did not have behind him along line of ancestors of wealth, prominence and blood. the first of will’s family to set foot ongeorgia soil might even have been one of oglethorpe’s debtors or a bond servant. will had notbeen to college. in fact, four years in a backwoods school was all the education he had ever had.

he was honest and he was loyal, he was patient and he was hard working, but certainly he was notquality. undoubtedly by robillard standards, suellen was coming down in the world.

“so you approve of will coming into your family?”

“yes,” answered scarlett fiercely, ready to pounce upon the old lady at the first words ofcondemnation.

“you may kiss me,” said grandma surprisingly, and she smiled in her most approving manner.

“i never liked you much till now, scarlett. you were always hard as a hickory nut, even as a child,and i don’t like hard females, barring myself. but i do like the way you meet things. you don’tmake a fuss about things that can’t be helped, even if they are disagreeable. you take your fencescleanly like a good hunter.”

scarlett smiled uncertainly and pecked obediently at the withered cheek presented to her. it waspleasant to hear approving words again, even if she had little idea what they meant.

“there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who’ll have something to say about you letting sue marry acracker—for all that everybody likes will. they’ll say in one breath what a fine man he is andhow terrible it is for an o’hara girl to marry beneath her. but don’t you let it bother you.”

“i’ve never bothered about what people said.”

“so i’ve heard.” there was a hint of acid in the old voice. “well, don’t bother about what folkssay. it’ll probably be a very successful marriage. of course, will’s always going to look like acracker and marriage won’t improve his grammar any. and, even if he makes a mint of money,he’ll never lend any shine and sparkle to tara, like your father did. crackers are short on sparkle.

but will’s a gentleman at heart. he’s got the right instincts. nobody but a born gentleman couldhave put his finger on what is wrong with us as accurately as he just did, down there at theburying. the whole world can’t lick us but we can lick ourselves by longing too hard for things wehaven’t got any more—and by remembering too much. yes, will will do well by suellen and bytara.”

“then you approve of me letting him marry her?”

“god, no!” the old voice was tired and bitter but vigorous. “approve of crackers marrying intoold families? bah! would i approve of breeding scrub stock to thoroughbreds? oh, crackers aregood and solid and honest but—”

“but you said you thought it would be a successful match!” cried scarlett bewildered.

“oh, i think it’s good for suellen to marry will—to marry anybody for that matter, because sheneeds a husband bad. and where else could she get one? and where else could you get as good amanager for tara? but that doesn’t mean i like the situation any better than you do.”

but i do like it, thought scarlett trying to grasp the old lady’s meaning. i’m glad will is going tomarry her. why should she think i minded? she’s taking it for granted that i do mind, just like her.

she felt puzzled and a little ashamed, as always when people attributed to her emotions andmotives they possessed and thought she shared.

grandma fanned herself with her palmetto leaf and went on briskly: “i don’t approve of thematch any more than you do but i’m practical and so are you. and when it comes to somethingthat’s unpleasant but can’t be helped, i don’t see any sense in screaming and kicking about it.

that’s no way to meet the ups and downs of life. i know because my family and the old doctor’sfamily have had more than our share of ups and downs. and if we folks have a motto, it’s this:

‘don’t holler—smile and bide your time.’ we’ve survived a passel of things that way, smiling andbiding our time, and we’ve gotten to be experts at surviving. we had to be. we’ve always bet onthe wrong horses. run out of france with the huguenots, run out of england with the cavaliers,run out of scotland with bonnie prince charlie, run out of haiti by the niggers and now licked bythe yankees. but we always turn up on top in a few years. you know why?”

she cocked her head and scarlett thought she looked like nothing so much as an old, knowingparrot.

“no, i don’t know, i’m sure,” she answered politely. but she was heartily bored, even as she hadbeen the day when grandma launched on her memories of the creek uprising.

“well, this is the reason. we bow to the inevitable. we’re not wheat, we’re buckwheat! when astorm comes along it flattens ripe wheat because it’s dry and can’t bend with the wind. but ripebuckwheat’s got sap in it and it bends. and when the wind has passed, it springs up almost asstraight and strong as before. we aren’t a stiff-necked tribe. we’re mighty limber when a hardwind’s blowing, because we know it pays to be limber. when trouble comes we bow to theinevitable without any mouthing, and we work and we smile and we bide our time. and we playalong with lesser folks and we take what we can get from them. and when we’re strong enough,we kick the folks whose necks we’ve climbed over. that, my child, is the secret of the survival.”

and after a pause, she added: “i pass it on to you.”

the old lady cackled, as if she were amused by her words, despite the venom in them. shelooked as if she expected some comment from scarlett but the words had made little sense to herand she could think of nothing to say.

“no, sir,” old miss went on, “our folks get flattened out but they rise up again, and that’s more than i can say for plenty of people not so far away from here. look at cathleen calvert. you cansee what she’s come to. poor white! and a heap lower than the man she married. look at themcrae family. flat to the ground, helpless, don’t know what to do, don’t know how to doanything. won’t even try. they spend their time whining about the good old days. and look at—well, look at nearly anybody in this county except my alex and my sally and you and jimtarleton and his girls and some others. the rest have gone under because they didn’t have any sapin them, because they didn’t have the gumption to rise up again. there never was anything to thosefolks but money and darkies, and now that the money and darkies are gone, those folks will becracker in another generation.”

“you forgot the wilkes.”

“no, i didn’t forget them. i just thought i’d be polite and not mention them, seeing that ashley’sa guest under this roof. but seeing as how you’ve brought up their names—look at them! there’sindia who from all i hear is a dried-up old maid already, giving herself all kinds of widowed airsbecause stu tarleton was killed and not making any effort to forget him and try to catch anotherman. of course, she’s old but she could catch some widower with a big family if she tried. andpoor honey was always a man-crazy fool with no more sense than a guinea hen. and as forashley, look at him!”

“ashley is a very fine man,” began scarlett hotly.

“i never said he wasn’t but he’s as helpless as a turtle on his back. if the wilkes family pullsthrough these hard times, it’ll be melly who pulls them through. not ashley.”

“melly! lord, grandma! what are you talking about? i’ve lived with melly long enough toknow she’s sickly and scared and hasn’t the gumption to say boo to a goose.”

“now why on earth should anyone want to say boo to a goose? it always sounded like a wasteof time to me. she might not say boo to a goose but she’d say boo to the world or the yankeegovernment or anything else that threatened her precious ashley or her boy or her notions ofgentility. her way isn’t your way, scarlett, or my way. it’s the way your mother would have actedif she’d lived. melly puts me in mind of your mother when she was young. ... and maybe she’llpull the wilkes family through.”

“oh, melly’s a well-meaning little ninny. but you are very unjust to ashley. he’s—”

“oh, foot! ashley was bred to read books and nothing else. that doesn’t help a man pull himselfout of a tough fix, like we’re all in now. from what i hear, he’s the worst plow hand in the county!

now you just compare him with my alex! before the war, alex was the most worthless dandy inthe world and he never had a thought beyond a new cravat and getting drunk and shootingsomebody and chasing girls who were no better than they should be. but look at him now! helearned farming because he had to learn. he’d have starved and so would all of us. now he raisesthe best cotton in the county—yes, miss! it’s a heap better than tara cotton!—and he knows whatto do with hogs and chickens. ha! he’s a fine boy for all his bad temper. he knows how to bide histime and change with changing ways and when all this reconstruction misery is over, you’re goingto see my alex as rich a man as his father and his grandfather were. but ashley—”

scarlett was smarting at the slight to ashley.

“it all sounds like tootle to me,” she said coldly.

“well, it shouldn’t,” said grandma, fastening a sharp eye upon her. “for it’s just exactly thecourse you’ve been following since you went to atlanta. oh, yes! we hear of your didoes, even ifwe are buried down here in the country. you’ve changed with the changing times too. we hear howyou suck up to the yankees and the white trash and the new-rich carpetbaggers to get money outof them. butter doesn’t melt in your mouth from all i can hear. well, go to it, i say. and get everycent out of them you can, but when you’ve got enough money, kick them in the face, because theycan’t serve you any longer. be sure you do that and do it properly, for trash hanging onto your coattails can ruin you.”

scarlett looked at her, her brow wrinkling with the effort to digest the words. they still didn’tmake much sense and she was still angry at ashley being called a turtle on his back.

“i think you’re wrong about ashley,” she said abruptly.

“scarlett, you just aren’t smart.”

“that’s your opinion,” said scarlett rudely, wishing it were permissible to smack old ladies’

jaws.

“oh, you’re smart enough about dollars and cents. that’s a man’s way of being smart. but youaren’t smart at all like a woman. you aren’t a speck smart about folks.”

scarlett’s eyes began to snap fire and her hands to clench and unclench.

“i’ve made you good and mad, haven’t i?” asked the old lady, smiling. “well, i aimed to do justthat.”

“oh, you did, did you? and why, pray?”

“i had good and plenty reasons.”

grandma sank back in her chair and scarlett suddenly realized that she looked very tired andincredibly old. the tiny clawlike hands folded over the fan were yellow and waxy as a deadperson’s. the anger went out of scarlett’s heart as a thought came to her. she leaned over and tookone of the hands in hers.

“you’re a mighty sweet old liar,” she said. “you didn’t mean a word of all this rigmarole.

you’ve just been talking to keep my mind off pa, haven’t you?”

“don’t fiddle with me!” said old miss grumpily, jerking away her hand. “partly for that reason,partly because what i’ve been telling you is the truth and you’re just too stupid to realize it.”

but she smiled a little and took the sting from her words. scarlett’s heart emptied itself of wrathabout ashley. it was nice to know grandma hadn’t meant any of it.

“thank you, just the same. it was nice of you to talk to me—and i’m glad to know you’re withme about will and suellen, even if—even if a lot of other people do disapprove.”

mrs. tarleton came down the hall, carrying two glasses of buttermilk. she did all domesticthings badly and the glasses were slopping over.

“i had to go clear to the spring house to get it,” she said. “drink it quick because the folks are coming up from the burying ground. scarlett, are you really going to let suellen marry will? notthat he isn’t a sight too good for her but you know he is a cracker and—”

scarlett’s eyes met those of grandma. there was a wicked sparkle in the old eyes that found ananswer in her own.

这一夜，思嘉翻来覆去睡不着。天亮以后，太阳从东边小山上的青松后面升起，她从破床上起身，坐在窗口一张凳子上，用一只胳臂支着沉甸甸的头，朝窗外看去，看见了打谷场，果园，还有远处的棉花地。一切都是那么清新、湿润、宁静，碧绿。她一看见那棉花地，痛苦的心就感到一定的安慰。虽然塔拉的主人已经故去，在清早看得出这地方是有人维护的，是有个精心照料的，是宁静的。矮矮的木鸡舍外面糊着一层泥，免得让耗子和鼬鼠钻进去，而且用白粉刷得干干净净，用森砂盖的马厩也是这样。园子里束平地种着一行行的玉米，又黄又亮的南瓜、豆子、萝卜，没有丁点儿杂草，四周是橡树枝条做成的篱笆，显得整整齐齐。果园里没有杂乱的树丛，一行行果树下面只有雏菊在生长。绿叶遮掩下的苹果和长满绒毛的粉红桃子，在闪烁的阳光下看得格外清晰。

再朝远处看，弯曲成行的棉花在清晨金色的天空下呈现出一片绿色，纹丝不动，成群的鸡鸭正优闲的漫步向田里走去。因为在那新耕的土地里可以找到最美味的虫子和蜓蚰。

思嘉明白这一切都要归功于威尔，因而心里充满了殷切的感激之情。她虽然对艾希礼是一片忠心，也不认为艾希礼为这兴旺景象作了多少贡献，因为塔拉的兴旺绝不是靠一位种田的贵族，而是靠一个热爱土地的"小农"的辛勤劳动。目前农场只有两骑马，远没有昔日那种气派。当年草场上到处骡子、骏马，棉花地和玉米地一眼望不到边。不过现在有的这一部分也还是不错的，那大片荒凉土地等将来日子好了还可以开垦嘛，休耕一段时间，还会更肥沃呢。

要说威尔干的话，还不仅限于种了几英亩地，他制服了佐治亚州种田人的两个死敌：靠种子繁殖的松树和一蓬蓬杂乱的黑莓。他们没有能悄悄地侵入花园、牧尝棉田、草地，也没有在门廓附近肆意滋生。佐治亚州有无数农场，却很少见到这种情况。

思嘉想到塔拉几乎变成一片荒野，心里感到一阵后怕。幸亏她和威尔两个人干得不错。他们顶住了北方佬的侵犯，也阻挡住了大自然的掠夺。最使她感到欣慰的是威尔已经告诉她，等到秋天棉花收进来以后，她就可以不再寄钱了，除非贪婪的北方佬看上了塔拉，非要课以重税不可。她知道，要是没有她的帮助，威尔的日子会是非常艰难的，但她佩服而且敬重他那种独立的精神。过去他的身份是雇工，思嘉给的钱他都是接受的，可是现在他就要当思嘉的妹夫了，要当一家之主了，他就想靠自己努力了。确实可以说，威尔是上帝为她安排的。

头一天晚上，波克就把墓穴挖好了，紧挨着爱伦的墓。此时他手执铁锹，站在湿润的红土后面，等着过一会儿把土铲回去。思嘉站在他的身后，躲在一棵矮小的疙里疙瘩的雪松下面一小片树荫里。六月的清晨，赤热的归光洒在她身上，呈现出无数的斑点。她两眼望着别处，尽量不看面前那红土墓穴。吉母·塔尔顿，小休·芒罗、亚历克斯·方丹和麦克雷老头儿最小的孙子，他们四个人用两块木板抬着杰拉尔德的棺木从房子里走出来，沿着小路歪歪斜斜地慢慢走来，后面，隔着一段适当的距离，跟着一大群邻居和朋友，穿着破破烂烂的衣服，默默地往前走，当他们来到花园里充满阳光的小路上的时候，波克把头靠在铁锹把顶上，哭起来。思嘉看到波克的头发，几个月前她去亚特兰大时还是乌黑发亮的，现在却已一片花白了，心里不禁感到惊讶。

思嘉觉得有些疲倦。她托上帝的福，昨天晚上就把眼泪哭干了，所以现在她能站在那里，眼睛干干的。苏伦在她身后掉眼泪，这哭声使她无法忍受，要不是攥紧了拳头，真会转身在那发肿的脸上给她一耳光。不管是有意还是无意，父亲的死是苏伦造成的，照理说，在对她不满的众位邻居面前，她应该克制自己的感情。那天清晨，没有一个人和她说话，也没有人向她投以同情的目光。大家都默默地与思嘉亲吻，与握手，悄悄地对卡琳甚至对波克说些安慰的话，看见苏伦，却像没这么个人似的。

他们认为，苏伦的过错不仅是杀害了自己的父亲。她还曾设法使父亲背叛南方。在当地那种严厉的封闭的社会里，这样做就等于背叛他们大家的荣誉。她打破了本地区在世人面前展示的牢固的联合阵线，她企图向北方政府要钱，这就和从北方来的冒险家和投靠北方的南方人站到一边去了，而这样的人比北方军的大兵还要遭憎恨。她出身于一个历史悠久的坚决支持联盟的家庭，出身于一个农场主的家庭，却投靠了敌人，从而给本地的所有家庭带来了耻辱。

送葬的人一方面因为忿怒而激动，另一方面因为悲伤而沉闷，其中有三个人尤其如此，一个是麦克雷老头儿，自从多年前杰拉尔德从萨凡纳搬到这里，他们就成了最要好的朋友。另一个是方丹老太太，她喜欢杰拉尔德，因为他是爱伦的丈夫，还有一个是塔尔顿太太，她对杰拉尔德比对别的邻居更亲近些，她常常说，当地只有杰拉尔德一人能分得出公马和阉马。

葬礼之前，在停放灵柩的客厅里，这三个人怒容满面，艾希礼和威尔一看这情况，感到有些紧张，就来到爱伦生前的办事房里商量对策。

“他们有人要谴责苏伦，"威尔直截了当地说，一面说，一面把一根稻草放进嘴里咬成两段。"他们自以为有理由谴责她。也许他们是对的。这一点，我管不着。可是，艾希礼，无论他们说该说不该说，我们都不能赞成，因为我们是家中管事的男人。这样一来，就会出麻烦。谁能想个法子，别让麦克雷老头讲话，他聋得像个木头桩子，他要是讲起来，谁阻止他，他也听不见。你清楚，方丹老太太要是劳叨起来，天底下谁也没法让她停下来，而塔尔顿太太，你没看见吗，她每次见到苏伦，红眼珠子不停地转。她现在什么都听不进去，到了急不可耐的地步。他们要是说些什么，我们就非得顶他们不可。即使不和邻居顶嘴，现在我们这里的麻烦事也就够多的了。"艾希礼叹了口气，他非常担心。邻居们的议论，他比威尔更清楚。而且他知道，在战前，邻居之间的争吵，甚至互相开枪，多半是因为送葬者要对着死者的灵柩讲几句话这种习俗而引起的。这葬者往往都是说些赞美的话，但也不尽然，有时说话者的本意是要表示极大的尊敬，而死者的亲属过于敏感，却产生了误会，因此棺材上面刚填完最后一铣土，接着就出现了麻烦。

琼斯博罗和弗耶特维尔这两个地方的卫理公会牧师和浸礼会牧师都表示愿意来帮忙，但是都被婉言谢绝了。既然没有牧师，就由艾希礼拿着卡琳的《忠诚福音》来主持仪式。卡琳信奉天主教，姐妹们中她最虔诚，对于思嘉没有想到从亚特兰大请一位牧师来十分不满。后来人们提醒她，等以后有牧师来主持威尔和苏伦的婚礼时，还可以到杰拉尔德坟上去祈祷一番，这才使她的气消了一点。就是她极力反对请附近的新教牧师，而把仪式交给艾希礼来主持，她还把书中该读的段落作了记号。艾希礼在这位老秘书的帮助下可以主持仪式，但他明白自己肩负着防止出麻烦的重任，同时也了解老乡们的火爆脾气，不知怎样主持才好。

“真没主意，威尔，"艾希礼一面抓着光亮的头发，一面说。"我既不能把方丹老太太和麦克雷老头儿打倒在地，也不能捂住塔尔顿太太的嘴不让她说话。他们起码会说苏伦是个杀人犯，是叛徒。要不是她，奥哈拉先生是不会死的。这种对着死者说话的习俗真是要命。这是一种野蛮的作法。"“你听我说，艾希礼，"威尔慢条斯理的说。"我今天决不让任何人谴责苏伦，不管他是怎么想的，你等着看我的吧。你念完了经书，作完了祈祷，说'谁想讲几句话吗'，这时你就朝我看一看，我就头一个出来讲话。"思嘉呢，她看着那几个人抬着棺材勉强进了小门，来到墓地，她压根儿没有想到仪式之后会出什么麻烦。她心里十分沉重，觉得父亲这一入土，意味着她与往昔无忧无虑的幸福生活之间的纽带又少了一条。

抬棺材的人终于把棺材放在墓穴旁，站在了一边，同时活动活动酸疼的手指。艾希礼、媚兰和威尔依次来到墓地，站在奥哈拉家三姐妹的身后，比较亲近的邻居挤了进来，其他的人站在砖墙外面。思嘉头一次和这些人见面，对这么多人来送葬有些惊讶，也很感动。交通不便，来的人就算很多了，总共大约有五六十人，有些人是远道而来的，思嘉不知道他们是如何得到消息，及进赶来的。有些是全家带着黑奴从琼斯博罗、费耶特维尔和洛夫乔伊赶来的。许多小农场主从河那边赶了很远的路来参加葬礼，在场的还有几个从山林的沼泽地来的穷苦人，沼泽地的男人都是细高个子，留着长胡子，身穿租毛外衣，头戴浣熊皮帽，长枪，随便挂在胳臂上，口里含着烟叶，他们的老婆也都来了。这些女人光着脚站在松软的红土地上，下嘴唇上沾满了烟末。她们头戴遮阳帽，脸色发暗，仿佛得了疟疾，但都是干干净净，浆过熨过的印花布衣服显得发亮。

左邻右舍是全体出动了，方丹老太太面容憔悴，脸色发黄，像是一只掉了毛的鸟，倚着手杖在那里站着，站在她身后的是萨利·芒罗·方丹和年轻的方丹小姐。她们小声恳求老太太。甚至拽她的裙子，想让她坐在矮墙上，可老太太就是不肯坐。老太太的丈夫，人们管他叫老大夫，没有在场，他已经在两个月之前去世了，那以后，许多生活的乐趣就从老太太的眼睛里消失了。凯瑟琳·卡尔弗特·希尔顿独自一人站在那里，这倒也合适，因为目前这场悲剧，她丈夫也是有责任的。她戴着一顶褪了色的遮阳帽，低垂着头，思嘉惊讶地到看凯瑟琳是细纱长裙上挂着油渍，手上长了黑斑，也不干净，指甲盖底下都是泥。如今的凯瑟琳已经失去了上流社会的风度。她穷了，不仅如此，她贫困潦倒、无精打采、邋邋遢遢，无可奈何地混日子。

“她不定哪一天就会嚼烟末了，说不定她已经嚼上了。"思嘉想到这里，感到惊恐不巡，"我的天哪！真是今非昔比啊！"她打了一个冷战，赶忙把眼光从凯瑟琳身上移开，因为她意识到上流社会与穷百姓之间的距离是微乎其微的。

“我就是比别人能干，"思嘉这样想。她又想到南方投降以后，她和凯瑟琳是在同样的条件下干起来的，都是一个脑袋两只手，心里感到一阵宽慰。

“我干得不错，"她一面想，一面仰起脸来，露出了微笑。

她这微笑只笑了一半便收敛起来，因为她注意到塔尔顿太太正瞪着大眼盯着她。塔尔顿太太眼圈都哭红了，她用责备的目光瞪了思嘉一眼以后，又把目光转到苏伦身上，她那异常愤怒的眼光说明苏伦要倒霉了。在她和她丈夫身后站着塔尔顿家的四个姑娘，她们的红头发对眼前这严肃的场合不是合适的，她们那红棕色的眼睛和欢蹦乱跳的小动物的眼睛一样，又精神，又让人害怕。

过了一会儿，艾希礼站出来，手里拿着卡琳的旧经书《忠诚福音》，这时大家都不再走动，帽子都摘了，两手交叉着，连裙子的啊啊声也听不见了。艾希礼低头站了一会儿，阳光照得他那一头金发闪闪发光。人群中间没有一丝声音，微风吹过木兰的枝叶发出的窃窃私语可以听得清清楚楚，远处一只模仿鸟不停地发出刺耳的哀鸣，让人无法忍受。艾希礼开始读祈祷文，所有的人都低头听他用洪亮而有节奏的声音一字一顿地读那简短而庄重的经文。

“啊！他的声音多好听啊！"思嘉想着，喉咙里感到一阵哽咽。"如果爸爸的葬礼说一定得有人主持，我倒愿意让艾希礼来主持。我宁愿让他主持，也不让一个牧师来主持。我宁愿让他也不愿让一个生人来掩埋父亲的遗骨。"艾希礼该读炼狱里的灵魂一节了，这一节也是卡琳作了记号让他读的，但是他突然停下来，把书合上了。只有卡琳发现他没读这一切，她感到困惑，就抬起头来，只听艾希礼接着读起了主祷文。艾希礼这样做，是因为他知道在场的人有一半从没有听说过炼狱，如果他们听了后发现他暗示像奥哈拉先生这样的好人也没有能直接进入天堂，即使是在祈祷文中所这种暗示，也会认为他是进行人身攻击。因此，他尊重大家的意见，把炼狱这一切省略了。大家热情地跟着他读主祷文，但是在他开始读"万福马利亚"的时候，大家的声音逐渐减弱，以至于完全沉静下来，使人感到尴尬，他们以前可从来没听说过这篇祈祷文，于是开始偷偷地交换眼色，只有奥哈拉家的小姐们，媚兰，还有几个仆人跟着说：“请为我们祈祷，现在以及将来我们死的时候都为我们祈祷。阿门。"艾希礼抬起头来，站了一会儿，不知怎样进行下去。邻居们用期待的眼光看着他，同时调整了一个姿势，站得随便一点，等着听期讲话。大家都觉得仪式还应该继续下去，谁也没想到他主持的这天主都祈祷仪式就要结束了。这里的葬礼一向拖得很长。卫理公会和浸礼会的牧师主持葬礼，没有固定的祈祷文，而是根据具体情况边想边说，而且往往都要说得所有送葬的人落泪，死都家属中的妇女嚎啕大哭，为亲密的朋友举行的葬礼，如果只读几篇简短的祈祷文就算完了，邻居们是会感到惊讶，感到伤心，感到忿怒的。这一点，艾希礼比谁都清楚。人们会把这件事当做饭桌上的话题谈上几个星期，老百姓会认为奥哈拉家的小姐们对父亲不够敬重。

所以，艾希礼很快瞧了卡琳一眼，表示歉意，接着就又低下头，背诵起圣公会葬礼祈祷文来了，他以前曾多次在"十二橡树"村用这篇祈祷文给奴隶们送葬。

“我能使你复活，我能给你生命。……无论何人。……凡信我者，必将永生。“这篇祈祷文他也没有记得很清楚，所以他背得很慢，有时甚至停下来，回忆下面应该怎么说。但是他这样一字一顿地说，却使得艾希礼的话更为感人。一直没有掉泪的人现在开始纷纷掏手绢了。虔诚的卫理公会教徒和浸礼会教徒都认为这是一次天主教仪式，起初他们以为天主教仪式都是庄严肃穆，不动感情的，现在也改变了他们的看法，思嘉和苏伦都毫无觉察，还觉得艾希礼的话又入耳又动听。只有媚兰和卡琳已经悲伤过度，看到艾希礼这样胡闹又感到非常伤心，但是没有出来制止。

艾希礼背完以后，睁大他那双悲哀的灰色的眼睛，环顾四周。接着他与威尔交换了个眼色，就说：“有谁想讲几句话吗？"塔尔顿太太的嘴唇动了一动，显得非常紧张，可是没等她开口，威尔就吃力地迈步向前，站在棺材面讲起话来。

“朋友们，"他用平静的语调说，"我头一次出来讲话，也许你们会觉得我太狂妄了，因为我是大给一年前认识奥哈拉生先的，而你们认识了已经二十年，或者二十多年了，但是我有一条理由：他要是能够活上一个月，我就可以他爸爸了。“人们露出惊讶的神色，这些人都是很有教养的，不会悄悄说话，但他们的脚交替挪动，眼睛转身卡琳。卡琳低着头站在那里，大家都知道威尔一下爱着卡琳，威尔看到大家都向那边看，便若无其事地继续说下去。

“因为我即将和苏伦小姐结婚，只等牧师从亚特兰大前来主持婚礼，我想我是有权第一个讲话的。"威尔的话还未说完，人群里就出现了一阵轻微的骚动，发出了像蜜蜂嗡嗡叫的忿怒的声音。这声音里既包含着愤怒，也包含着失望。大家都喜欢威尔，都尊敬他，因为他为塔拉出了大力。大家也都知道他喜欢卡琳，因此当他们听到他要和最近最受大家鄙视的人结婚的消息时，感到无法接受。善良的威尔怎么会和那个卑鄙可恶的小人苏伦·奥哈拉结婚呢？

气氛一度十分紧张。塔尔顿在太太两眼射出了愤怒的目光，嘴唇动了动，仿佛要说什么，却没有说出声来。在一片寂静之中，可以听见麦克雷老头高声恳求孙子告诉他刚才威尔说了些什么。威尔面对众人，脸色依然温和，但他那双浅蓝色的眼睛却好像在说，看谁敢对他未来的妻子说三道四。霎那间人们难以决定，他们既疼爱威尔又鄙视苏伦。后来还是威尔胜利了。他继续讲下去，他们刚才