scarlett sat in her bedroom, picking at the supper tray mammy had brought her, listeningto the wind hurling itself out of the night. the house was frighteningly still, quieter even than whenfrank had lain in the parlor just a few hours before. then there had been tiptoeing feet and hushedvoices, muffled knocks on the door, neighbors rustling in to whisper sympathy and occasional sobsfrom frank’s sister who had come up from jonesboro for the funeral.
but now the house was cloaked in silence. although her door was open she could hear nosounds from below stairs. wade and the baby had been at melanie’s since frank’s body wasbrought home and she missed the sound of the boy’s feet and ella’s gurgling. there was a truce inthe kitchen and no sound of quarreling from peter, mammy and cookie floated up to her. evenaunt pitty, downstairs in the library, was not rocking her creaking chair in deference to scarlett’s sorrow.
no one intruded upon her, believing that she wished to be left alone with her grief, but to be leftalone was the last thing scarlett desired. had it only been grief that companioned her, she couldhave borne it as she had borne other griefs. but, added to her stunned sense of loss at frank’sdeath, were fear and remorse and the torment of a suddenly awakened conscience. for the firsttime in her life she regretting things she had done, regretting them with a sweeping superstitiousfearthatmad(was) e her cast sidelong glances at the bed upon which she had lain withfrank.
she had killed frank. she had killed him just as surely as if it had been her finger that pulled thetrigger. he had begged her not to go about alone but she had not listened to him. and now he wasdead because of her obstinacy. god would punish her for that. but there lay upon her conscienceanother matter that was heavier and more frightening even than causing his death—a matter whichhad never troubled her until she looked upon his coffined face. there had been something helplessand pathetic in that still face which had accused her. god would punish her for marrying him whenhe really loved suellen. she would have to cower at the seat of judgment and answer for that lieshe told him coming back from the yankee camp in his buggy.
useless for her to argue now that the end justified the means, that she was driven into trappinghim, that the fate of too many people hung on her for her to consider either his or suellen’s rightsand happiness. the truth stood out boldly and she cowered away from it. she had married himcoldly and used him coldly. and she had made him unhappy during the last six months when shecould have made him very happy. god would punish her for not being nicer to him—punish herfor all her bullyings and proddings and storms of temper and cutting remarks, for alienating hisfriends and shaming him by operating the mills and building the saloon and leasing convicts.
she had made him very unhappy and she knew it, but he had borne it all like a gentleman. theonly thing she had ever done that gave him any real happiness was to present him with ella. andshe knew if she could have kept from having ella, ella would never have been born.
she shivered, frightened, wishing frank were alive, so she could be nice to him, so very nice tohim to make up for it all. oh, if only god did not seem so furious and vengeful! oh, if only theminutes did not go by so slowly and the house were not so still! if only she were not so alone!
if only melanie were with her, melanie could calm her fears. but melanie was at home, nursingashley. for a moment scarlett thought of summoning pittypat to stand between her and herconscience but she hesitated. pitty would probably make matters worse, for she honestly mournedfrank. he had been more her contemporary than scarlett’s and she had been devoted to him. hehad filled to perfection pitty’s need for “a man in the house,” for he brought her little presents andharmless gossip, jokes and stories, read the paper to her at night and explained topics of the day toher while she mended his socks. she had fussed over him and planned special dishes for him andcoddled him during his innumerable colds. now she missed him acutely and repeated over andover as she dabbed at her red swollen eyes: “if only he hadn’t gone out with the klan!”
if there were only someone who could comfort her, quiet her fears, explain to her just what werethese confused fears which made her heart sink with such cold sickness! if only ashley—but sheshrank from the thought. she had almost killed ashley, just as she had killed frank. and if ashley ever knew the real truth about how she lied to frank to get him, knew how mean she had been tofrank, he could never love her any more. ashley was so honorable, so truthful, so kind and he sawso straightly, so clearly. if he knew the whole truth, he would understand. oh, yes, he wouldunderstand only too well! but he would never love her any more. so he must never know the truthbecause he must keep on loving her. how could she live if that secret source of her strength, hislove, were taken from her? but what a relief it would be to put her head on his shoulder and cryand unburden her guilty heart!
the still house with the sense of death heavy upon it pressed about her loneliness until she feltshe could not bear it unaided any longer. she arose cautiously, pushed her door half-closed andthen dug about in the bottom bureau drawer beneath her underwear. she produced aunt pitty’s“swoon bottle” of brandy which she had hidden there and held it up to the lamp. it was nearly half-empty. surely she hadn’t drunk that much since last night! she poured a generous amount into herwater glass and gulped it down. she would have to put the bottle back in the cellaret beforemorning, filled to the top with water. mammy had hunted for it, just before the funeral when thepallbearers wanted a drink, and already the air in the kitchen was electric with suspicion betweenmammy, cookie and peter.
the brandy burned with fiery pleasantness. there was nothing like it when you needed it. infact, brandy was good almost any time, so much better than insipid wine. why on earth should itbe proper for a woman to drink wine and not spirits? mrs. merriwether and mrs. meade hadsniffed her breath most obviously at the funeral and she had seen the triumphant look they hadexchanged. the old cats!
she poured another drink. it wouldn’t matter if she did get a little tipsy tonight for she was goingto bed soon and she could gargle cologne before mammy came up to unlace her. she wished shecould get as completely and thoughtlessly drunk as gerald used to get on court day. then perhapsshe could forget frank’s sunken face accusing her of ruining his life and then killing him.
she wondered if everyone in town thought she had killed him. certainly the people at thefuneral had been cold to her. the only people who had put any warmth into their expressions ofsympathy were the wives of the yankee officers with whom she did business. well, she didn’t carewhat the town said about her. how unimportant that seemed beside what she would have to answerfor to god!
she took another drink at the thought, shuddering as the hot brandy went down her throat. shefelt very warm now but still she couldn’t get the thought of frank out of her mind. what fools menwere when they said liquor made people forget! unless she drank herself into insensibility, she’dstill see frank’s face as it had looked the last time he begged her not to drive alone, timid,reproachful, apologetic.
the knocker on the front door hammered with a dull sound that made the still house echo andshe heard aunt pitty’s waddling steps crossing the hall and the door opening. there was the soundof greeting and an indistinguishable murmur. some neighbor calling to discuss the funeral or tobring a blanc mange. pitty would like that. she had taken an important and melancholy pleasure intalking to the condolence callers.
she wondered incuriously who it was and, when a man’s voice, resonant and drawling, rose above pitty’s funereal whispering, she knew. gladness and relief flooded her. it was rhett. she hadnot seen him since he broke the news of frank’s death to her, and now she knew, deep in her heart,that he was the one person who could help her tonight.
“i think she’ll see me,” rhett’s voice floated up to her.
“but she is lying down now, captain butler, and won’t see anyone. poor child, she is quiteprostrated. she—”
“i think she will see me. please tell her i am going away tomorrow and may be gone some time.
it’s very important.”
“but—” fluttered aunt pittypat.
scarlett ran out into the hall, observing with some astonishment that her knees were a littleunsteady, and leaned over the banisters.
“i’ll be down terrectly, rhett,” she called.
she had a glimpse of aunt pittypat’s plump upturned face, her eyes owlish with surprise anddisapproval. now it’ll be all over town that i conducted myself most improperly on the day of myhusband’s funeral, thought scarlett, as she hurried back to her room and began smoothing her hair.
she buttoned her black basque up to the chin and pinned down the collar with pittypat’s mourningbrooch. i don’t look very pretty she thought, leaning toward the mirror, too white and scared. for amoment her hand went toward the lock box where she kept her rouge hidden but she decidedagainst it. poor pittypat would be upset in earnest if she came downstairs pink and blooming. shepicked up the cologne bottle and took a large mouthful, carefully rinsed her mouth and then spitinto the slop jar.
she rustled down the stairs toward the two who still stood in the hall, for pittypat had been tooupset by scarlett’s action to ask rhett to sit down. he was decorously clad in black, his linen frillyand starched, and his manner was all that custom demanded from an old friend paying a call ofsympathy on one bereaved. in fact, it was so perfect that it verged on the burlesque, thoughpittypat did not see it. he was properly apologetic for disturbing scarlett and regretted that in hisrush of closing up business before leaving town he had been unable to be present at the funeral.
“whatever possessed him to come?” wondered scarlett. “he doesn’t mean a word he’s saying.”
“i hate to intrude on you at this time but i have a matter of business to discuss that will not wait.
something that mr. kennedy and i were planning—”
“i didn’t know you and mr. kennedy had business dealings,” said aunt pittypat, almostindignant that some of frank’s activities were unknown to her.
“mr. kennedy was a man of wide interests,” said rhett respectfully. “shall we go into theparlor?”
“no!” cried scarlett, glancing at the closed folding doors. she could still see the coffin in thatroom. she hoped she never had to enter it again. pitty, for once, took a hint, although with none toogood grace.
“do use the library. i must—i must go upstairs and get out the mending. dear me, i’ve neglected it so this last week. i declare—”
she went up the stairs with a backward look of reproach which was noticed by neither scarlettnor rhett. he stood aside to let her pass before him into the library.
“what business did you and frank have?” she questioned abruptly.
he came closer and whispered. “none at all. i just wanted to get miss pitty out of the way.” hepaused as he leaned over her. “it’s no good, scarlett.”
“what?”
“the cologne.”
“i’m sure i don’t know what you mean.”
“i’m sure you do. you’ve been drinking pretty heavily.”
“well, what if i have? is it any of your business?”
“the soul of courtesy, even in the depths of sorrow. don’t drink alone, scarlett. people alwaysfind it out and it ruins the reputation. and besides, it’s a bad business, this drinking alone. what’sthe matter, honey?”
he led her to the rosewood sofa and she sat down in silence.
“may i close the doors?”
she knew if mammy saw the closed doors she would be scandalized and would lecture andgrumble about it for days, but it would be still worse if mammy should overhear this discussion ofdrinking, especially in light of the missing brandy bottle. she nodded and rhett drew the slidingdoors together. when he came back and sat down beside her, his dark eyes alertly searching herface, the pall of death receded before the vitality he radiated and the room seemed pleasant andhome-like again, the lamps rosy and warm.
“what’s the matter, honey?”
no one in the world could say that foolish word of endearment as caressingly as rhett, evenwhen he was joking, but he did not look as if he were joking now. she raised tormented eyes to hisface and somehow found comfort in the blank inscrutability she saw there. she did not know whythis should be, for he was such an unpredictable, callous person. perhaps it was because, as he oftensaid, they were so much alike. sometimes she thought that all the people she had ever knownwere strangers except rhett.
“can’t you tell me?” he took her hand, oddly gentle. “it’s more than old frank leaving you? doyou need money?”
“money? god, no! oh, rhett, i’m so afraid.”
“don’t be a goose, scarlett, you’ve never been afraid in your life.”
“oh, rhett, i am afraid!”
the words bubbled up faster than she could speak them. she could tell him. she could tell rhettanything. he’d been so bad himself that he wouldn’t sit in judgment on her. how wonderful to know someone who was bad and dishonorable and a cheat and a liar, when all the world was filledwith people who would not lie to save their souls and who would rather starve than do a dishonorabledeed!
“i’m afraid i’ll die and go to hell.”
if he laughed at her she would die, right then. but he did not laugh.
“you are pretty healthy—and maybe there isn’t any hell after all.”
“oh, but there is, rhett! you know there is!”
“i know there is but it’s right here on earth. not after we die. there’s nothing after we die,scarlett. you are having your hell now.”
“oh, rhett, that’s blasphemous!”
“but singularly comforting. tell me, why are you going to hell?”
he was teasing now, she could see the glint in his eyes but she did not mind. his hands felt sowarm and strong, so comforting to cling to.
“rhett, i oughtn’t to have married frank. it was wrong. he was suellen’s beau and he loved her,not me. but i lied to him and told him she was going to marry tony fontaine. oh, how could ihave done it?”
“ah, so that was how it came about! i always wondered.”
“and then i made him so miserable. i made him do all sorts of things he didn’t want to do, likemaking people pay their bills when they really couldn’t afford to pay them. and it hurt him sowhen i ran the mills and built the saloon and leased convicts. he could hardly hold up his head forshame. and rhett, i killed him. yes, i did! i didn’t know he was in the klan. i never dreamed hehad that much gumption. but i ought to have known. and i killed him.”
“ ‘will all great neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?’ ”
“what?”
“no matter. go on.”
“go on? that’s all. isn’t it enough? i married him, i made him unhappy and i killed him. oh, mygod! i don’t see how i could have done it! i lied to him and i married him. it all seemed so rightwhen i did it but now i see how wrong it was. rhett, it doesn’t seem like it was me who did allthese things. i was so mean to him but i’m not really mean. i wasn’t raised that way. mother—”
she stopped and swallowed. she had avoided thinking of ellen all day but she could no longer blotout her image.
“i often wondered what she was like. you seemed to me so like your father.”
“mother was— oh, rhett, for the first time i’m glad she’s dead, so she can’t see me. she didn’traise me to be mean. she was so kind to everybody, so good. she’d rather i’d have starved thandone this. and i so wanted to be just like her in every way and i’m not like her one bit i hadn’tthought of that—there’s been so much else to think about—but i wanted to be like her. i didn’twant to be like pa. i loved him but he was—so—so thoughtless. rhett, sometimes i did try so hard to be nice to people and kind to frank, but then the nightmare would come back and scare me sobad i’d want to rush out and just grab money away from people, whether it was mine or not.”
tears were streaming unheeded down her face and she clutched his hand so hard that her nailsdug into his flesh.
“what nightmare?” his voice was calm and soothing.
“oh—i forgot you didn’t know. well, just when i would try to be nice to folks and tell myselfthat money wasn’t everything, i’d go to bed and dream that i was back at tara right after motherdied, right after the yankees went through. rhett, you can’t imagine— i get cold when i thinkabout it. i can see how everything is burned and so still and there’s nothing to eat. oh, rhett, in mydream i’m hungry again.”
“go on.”
“i’m hungry and everybody, pa and the girls and the darkies, are starving and they keep sayingover and over: ‘we’re hungry’ and i’m so empty it hurts, and so frightened. my mind keepssaying: ‘if i ever get out of this, i’ll never, never be hungry again’ and then the dream goes off intoa gray mist and i’m running, running in the mist, running so hard my heart’s about to burst andsomething is chasing me, and i can’t breathe but i keep thinking that if i can just get there, i’ll besafe. but i don’t know where i’m trying to get to. and then i’d wake up and i’d be cold with frightand so afraid that i’d be hungry again. when i wake up from that dream, it seems like there’s notenough money in the world to keep me from being afraid of being hungry again. and then frankwould be so mealy mouthed and slow poky that he would make me mad and i’d lose my temper.
he didn’t understand, i guess, and i couldn’t make him understand. i kept thinking that i’d make itup to him some day when we had money and i wasn’t so afraid of being hungry. and now he’sdead and it’s too late. oh, it seemed so right when i did it but it was all so wrong. if i had it to doover again, i’d do it so differently.”
“hush,” he said, disentangling her frantic grip and pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket.
“wipe your face. there is no sense in your tearing yourself to pieces this way.”
she took the handkerchief and wiped her damp cheeks, a little relief stealing over her as if shehad shifted some of her burden to his broad shoulders. he looked so capable and calm and even theslight twist of his mouth was comforting as though it proved her agony and confusionunwarranted.
“feel better now? then let’s get to the bottom of this. you say if you had it to do over again,you’d do it differently. but would you? think, now. would you?”
“well—”
“no, you’d do the same things again. did you have any other choice?”
“no.”
“then what are you sorry about?”
“i was so mean and now he’s dead.”
“and if he wasn’t dead, you’d still be mean. as i understand it, you are not really sorry for marrying frank and bullying him and inadvertently causing his death. you are only sorry becauseyou are afraid of going to hell. is that right?”
“well—that sounds so mixed up.”
“your ethics are considerably mixed up too. you are in the exact position of a thief who’s beencaught red handed and isn’t sorry he stole but is terribly, terribly sorry he’s going to jail.”
“a thief—”
“oh, don’t be so literal! in other words if you didn’t have this silly idea that you were damned tohell fire eternal, you’d think you were well rid of frank.”
“oh, rhett!”
“oh, come! you are confessing and you might as well confess the truth as a decorous lie. didyour—er—conscience bother you much when you offered to—shall we say—part with that jewelwhich is dearer than life for three hundred dollars?”
the brandy was spinning in her head now and she felt giddy and a little reckless. what was theuse in lying to him? he always seemed to read her mind.
“i really didn’t think about god much then—or hell. and when i did think—well, i justreckoned god would understand.”
“but you don’t credit god with understanding why you married frank?”
“rhett, how can you talk so about god when you know you don’t believe there is one?”
“but you believe in a god of wrath and that’s what’s important at present. why shouldn’t thelord understand? are you sorry you still own tara and there aren’t carpetbaggers living there? areyou sorry you aren’t hungry and ragged?”
“oh, no!”
“well, did you have any alternative except marrying frank?”
“no.”
“he didn’t have to marry you, did he? men are free agents. and he didn’t have to let you bullyhim into doing things he didn’t want to, did he?”
“well—”
“scarlett, why worry about it? if you had it to do over again you would be driven to the lie andhe to marrying you. you would still have run yourself into danger and he would have had toavenge you. if he had married sister sue, she might not have caused his death but she’d probablyhave made him twice as unhappy as you did. it couldn’t have happened differently.”
“but i could have been nicer to him.”
“you could have been—if you’d been somebody else. but you were born to bully anyone who’lllet you do it. the strong were made to bully and the weak to knuckle under. it’s all frank’s faultfor not beating you with a buggy whip. ... i’m surprised at you, scarlett, for sprouting a consciencethis late in life. opportunists like you shouldn’t have them.”
“what is an oppor—what did you call it?”
“a person who takes advantage of opportunities.”
“is that wrong?”
“it has always been held in disrepute—especially by those who had the same opportunities anddidn’t take them.”
“oh, rhett, you are joking and i thought you were going to be nice!”
“i am being nice—for me. scarlett, darling, you are tipsy. that’s what’s the matter with you.”
“you dare—”
“yes, i dare. you are on the verge of what is vulgarly called a ‘crying jag’ and so i shall changethe subject and cheer you up by telling you some news that will amuse you. in fact, that’s why icame here this evening, to tell you my news before i went away.”
“where are you going?”
“to england and i may be gone for months. forget your conscience, scarlett. i have no intentionof discussing your soul’s welfare any further. don’t you want to hear my news?”
“but—” she began feebly and paused. between the brandy which was smoothing out the harshcontours of remorse and rhett’s mocking but comforting words, the pale specter of frank wasreceding into shadows. perhaps rhett was right. perhaps god did understand. she recoveredenough to push the idea from the top of her mind and decide: “i’ll think about it all tomorrow.”
“what’s your news?” she said with an effort, blowing her nose on his handkerchief and pushingback the hair that had begun to straggle.
“my news is this,” he answered, grinning down at her. “i still want you more than any womani’ve ever seen and now that frank’s gone, i thought you’d be interested to know it.”
scarlett jerked her hands away from his grasp and sprang to her feet.
“i—you are the most ill-bred man in the world, coming here at this time of all times with yourfilthy—i should have known you’d never change. and frank hardly cold! if you had any decency— will you leave this—”
“do be quiet or you’ll have miss pittypat down here in a minute,” he said, not rising butreaching up and taking both her fists. “i’m afraid you miss my point.”
“miss your point? i don’t miss anything.” she pulled against his grip. “turn me loose and getout of here. i never heard of such bad taste. i—”
“hush,” he said. “i am asking you to marry me. would you be convinced if i knelt down?”
she said “oh” breathlessly and sat down hard on the sofa.
she stared at him, her mouth open, wondering if the brandy were playing tricks on her mind,remembering senselessly his jibing: “my dear, i’m not a marrying man.” she was drunk or he wascrazy. but he did not look crazy. he looked as calm as though he were discussing the weather, andhis smooth drawl fell on her ears with no particular emphasis.
“i always intended having you, scarlett, since that first day i saw you at twelve oaks when youthrew that vase and swore and proved that you weren’t a lady. i always intended having you, oneway or another. but as you and frank have made a little money, i know you’ll never be driven tome again with any interesting propositions of loans and collaterals. so i see i’ll have to marryyou.”
“rhett butler, is this one of your vile jokes?”
“i bare my soul and you are suspicious! no, scarlett, this is a bona fide honorable declaration. iadmit that it’s not in the best of taste, coming at this time, but i have a very good excuse for mylack of breeding. i’m going away tomorrow for a long time and i fear that if i wait till i returnyou’ll have married some one else with a little money. so i thought, why not me and my money?
really, scarlett, i can’t go all my life, waiting to catch you between husbands.”
he meant it. there was no doubt about it. her mouth was dry as she assimilated this knowledgeand she swallowed and looked into his eyes, trying to find some clue. they were full of laughterbut there was something else, deep in them, which she had never seen before, a gleam that defiedanalysis. he sat easily, carelessly but she felt that he was watching her as alertly as a cat watches amouse hole. there was a sense of leashed power straining beneath his calm that made her drawback, a little frightened.
he was actually asking her to marry him; he was committing the incredible. once she hadplanned how she would torment him should he ever propose. once she had thought that if he everspoke those words she would humble him and make him feel her power and take a maliciouspleasure in doing it. now, he had spoken and the plans did not even occur to her, for he was nomore in her power than he had ever been. in fact, he held the whip hand of the situation socompletely that she was as flustered as a girl at her first proposal and she could only blush andstammer.
“i—i shall never marry again.”
“oh, yes, you will. you were born to be married. why not me?”
“but rhett, i—i don’t love you.”
“that should be no drawback. i don’t recall that love was prominent in your other twoventures.”
“oh, how can you? you know i was fond of frank!”
he said nothing.
“i was! i was!”
“well, we won’t argue that. will you think over my proposition while i’m gone?”
“rhett, i don’t like for things to drag on. i’d rather tell you now. i’m going home to tara soonand india wilkes will stay with aunt pittypat. i want to go home for a long spell and—i—i don’tever want to get married again.”
“nonsense. why?”
“oh, well—never mind why. i just don’t like being married.”
“but, my poor child, you’ve never really, been married. how can you know? i’ll admit you’vehad bad luck—once for spite and once for money. did you ever think of marrying—just for the funof it?”
“fun! don’t talk like a fool. there’s no fun being married.”
“no? why not?”
a measure of calm had returned and with it all the natural bluntness which brandy brought to thesurface.
“it’s fun for men—though god knows why. i never could understand it. but all a woman getsout of it is something to eat and a lot of work and having to put up with a man’s foolishness—and ababy every year.”
he laughed so loudly that the sound echoed in the stillness and scarlett heard the kitchen dooropen.
“hush! mammy has ears like a lynx and it isn’t decent to laugh so soon after—hush laughing.
you know it’s true. fun! fiddle-dee-dee!”
“i said you’d had bad luck and what you’ve just said proves it. you’ve been married to a boyand to an old man. and into the bargain i’ll bet your mother told you that women must bear thesethings’ because of the compensating joys of motherhood. well, that’s all wrong. why not trymarrying a fine young man who has a bad reputation and a way with women? it’ll be fun.”
“you are coarse and conceited and i think this conversation has gone far enough. it’s—it’s quitevulgar.”
“and quite enjoyable, too, isn’t it? i’ll wager you never discussed the marital relation with aman before, even charles or frank.”
she scowled at him. rhett knew too much. she wondered where he had learned all he knewabout women. it wasn’t decent“don’t frown. name the day, scarlett. i’m not urging instant matrimony because of yourreputation. we’ll wait the decent interval. by the way, just how long is a ‘decent interval’?”
“i haven’t said i’d marry you. it isn’t decent to even talk of such things at such a time.”
“i’ve told you why i’m talking of them. i’m going away tomorrow and i’m too ardent a lover torestrain my passion any longer. but perhaps i’ve been too precipitate in my wooing.”
with a suddenness that startled her, he slid off the sofa onto his knees and with one hand placeddelicately over his heart, he recited rapidly:
“forgive me for startling you with the impetuosity of my sentiments, my dear scarlett—i mean,my dear mrs. kennedy. it cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past the friendship ihave had in my heart for you has ripened into a deeper feeling, a feeling more beautiful, more pure,more sacred. dare i name it you? ah! it is love which makes me so bold!”
“do get up,” she entreated. “you look such a fool and suppose mammy should come in and seeyou?”
“she would be stunned and incredulous at the first signs of my gentility,” said rhett, arisinglightly. “come, scarlett, you are no child, no schoolgirl to put me off with foolish excuses aboutdecency and so forth. say you’ll marry me when i come back or, before god, i won’t go. i’ll stayaround here and play a guitar under your window every night and sing at the top of my voice andcompromise you, so you’ll have to marry me to save your reputation.”
“rhett, do be sensible. i don’t want to marry anybody.”
“no? you aren’t telling me the real reason. it can’t be girlish timidity. what is it?”
suddenly she thought of ashley, saw him as vividly as though he stood beside her, sunny haired,drowsy eyed, full of dignity, so utterly different from rhett. he was the real reason she did notwant to marry again, although she had no objections to rhett and at times was genuinely fond ofhim. she belonged to ashley, forever and ever. she had never belonged to charles or frank, couldnever really belong to rhett. every part of her, almost everything she had ever done, striven after,attained, belonged to ashley, were done because she loved him. ashley and tara, she belonged tothem. the smiles, the laughter, the kisses she had given charles and frank were ashley’s, eventhough he had never claimed them, would never claim them. somewhere deep in her was thedesire to keep herself for him, although she knew he would never take her.
she did not know that her face had changed, that reverie had brought a softness to her facewhich rhett had never seen before. he looked at the slanting green eyes, wide and misty, and thetender curve of her lips and for a moment his breath stopped. then his mouth went down violentlyat one corner and he swore with passionate impatience.
“scarlett o’hara, you’re a fool!”
before she could withdraw her mind from its far places, his arms were around her, as sure andhard as on the dark road to tara, so long ago. she felt again the rush of helplessness, the sinkingyielding, the surging tide of warmth that left her limp. and the quiet face of ashley wilkes wasblurred and drowned to nothingness. he bent back her head across his arm and kissed her, softly atfirst, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thingin a dizzy swaying world. his insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremorsalong her nerves, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling.
and before a swimming giddiness spun her round and round, she knew that she was kissing himback.
“stop—please, i’m faint!” she whispered, trying to turn her head weakly from him. he pressedher head back hard against his shoulder and she had a dizzy glimpse of his face. his eyes werewide and blazing queerly and the tremor in his arms frightened her.
“i want to make you faint. i will make you faint. you’ve had this coming to you for years. noneof the fools you’ve known have kissed you like this—have they? your precious charles or frankor your stupid ashley—”
“please—”
“i said your stupid ashley. gentlemen all—what do they know about women? what did theyknow about you? i know you.”
his mouth was on hers again and she surrendered without a struggle, too weak even to turn herhead, without even the desire to turn it, her heart shaking her with its poundings, fear of hisstrength and her nerveless weakness sweeping her. what was he going to do? she would faint if hedid not stop. if he would only stop—if he would never stop.
“say yes!” his mouth was poised above hers and his eyes were so close that they seemedenormous, filling the world. “say yes, damn you, or—”
she whispered “yes” before she even thought. it was almost as if he had willed the word andshe had spoken it without her own volition. but even as she spoke it, a sudden calm fell on herspirit, her head began to stop spinning and even the giddiness of the brandy was lessened. she hadpromised to marry him when she had had no intention of promising. she hardly knew how it hadall come about but she was not sorry. it now seemed very natural that she had said yes—almost asif by divine intervention, a hand stronger than hers was about her affairs, settling her problems forher.
he drew a quick breath as she spoke and bent as if to kiss her again and her eyes closed and herhead fell back. but he drew back and she was faintly disappointed. it made her feel so strange to bekissed like this and yet there was something exciting about it.
he sat very still for a while holding her head against his shoulder and, as if by effort, thetrembling of his arms ceased. he moved away from her a little and looked down at her. she openedher eyes and saw that the frightening glow had gone from his face. but somehow she could notmeet his gaze and she dropped her eyes in a rush of tingling confusion.
when he spoke his voice was very calm.
“you meant it? you don’t want to take it back?”
“no.”
“it’s not just because i’ve—what is the phrase?—‘swept you off your feet’ by my—er—ardor?”
she could not answer for she did not know what to say, nor could she meet his eyes. he put ahand under her chin and lifted her face.
“i told you once that i could stand anything from you except a lie. and now i want the truth. justwhy did you say yes?”
still the words would not come, but, a measure of poise returning, she kept her eyes demurelydown and tucked the corners of her mouth into a little smile.
“look at me. is it my money?”
“why, rhett! what a question!”
“look up and don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m not charles or frank or any of the county boys tobe taken in by your fluttering lids. is it my money?”
“well—yes, a part.”
“a part?”
he did not seem annoyed. he drew a swift breath and with an effort wiped from his eyes the eagerness her words had brought, an eagerness which she was too confused to see.
“well,” she floundered helplessly, “money does help, you know, rhett, and god knows frankdidn’t leave any too much. but then—well, rhett, we do get on, you know. and you are the onlyman i ever saw who could stand the truth from a woman, and it would be nice having a husbandwho didn’t think me a silly fool and expect me to tell lies—and—well, i am fond of you.”
“fond of me?”
“well,” she said fretfully, “if i said i was madly in love with you, i’d be lying and what’s more,you’d know it.”
“sometimes i think you carry your truth telling too far, my pet. don’t you think, even if it was alie, that it would be appropriate for you to say ‘i love you, rhett,’ even if you didn’t mean it?”
what was he driving at, she wondered, becoming more confused. he looked so queer, eager,hurt, mocking. he took his hands from her and shoved them deep in his trousers pockets and shesaw him ball his fists.
“if it costs me a husband, i’ll tell the truth,” she thought grimly, her blood up as always when hebaited her.
“rhett, it would be a lie, and why should we go through all that foolishness? i’m fond of you,like i said. you know how it is. you told me once that you didn’t love me but that we had a lot incommon. both rascals, was the way you—”
“oh, god!” be whispered rapidly, turning his head away. “to be taken in my own trap!”
“what did you say?”
“nothing,” and he looked at her and laughed, but it was not a pleasant laugh; “name the day, mydear,” and he laughed again and bent and kissed her hands. she was relieved to see his mood passand good humor apparently return, so she smiled too.
he played with her hand for a moment and grinned up at her.
“did you ever in your novel reading come across the old situation of the disinterested wifefalling in love with her own husband?”
“you know i don’t read novels,” she said and, trying to equal his jesting mood, went on:
“besides, you once said it was the height of bad form for husbands and wives to love each other.”
“i once said too god damn many things,” he retorted abruptly and rose to his feet.
“don’t swear.”
“you’ll have to get used to it and learn to swear too. you’ll have to get used to all my bad habits.
that’ll be part of the price of being—fond of me and getting your pretty paws on my money.”
“well, don’t fly off the handle so, because i didn’t lie and make you feel conceited. you aren’t inlove with me, are you? why should i be in love with you?”
“no, my dear, i’m not in love with you, no more than you are with me, and if i were, you wouldbe the last person i’d ever tell. god help the man who ever really loves you. you’d break his heart,my darling, cruel, destructive little cat who is so careless and confident she doesn’t even trouble to sheathe her claws.”
he jerked her to her feet and kissed her again, but this time his lips were different for he seemednot to care if he hurt her—seemed to want to hurt her, to insult her. his lips slid down to her throatand finally he pressed them against the taffeta over her breast, so hard and so long that his breathburnt to her skin. her hands struggled up, pushing him away in outraged modesty.
“you mustn’t! how dare you!”
“your heart’s going like a rabbit’s,” he said mockingly. “all too fast for mere fondness i wouldthink, if i were conceited. smooth your ruffled feathers. you are just putting on these virginal airs.
tell me what i shall bring you from england. a ring? what kind would you like?”
she wavered momentarily between interest in his last words and a feminine desire to prolong thescene with anger and indignation.
“oh—a diamond ring—and rhett, do buy a great big one.”
“so you can flaunt it before your poverty-stricken friends and say ‘see what i caught!’ verywell, you shall have a big one, one so big that your less-fortunate friends can comfort themselvesby whispering that it’s really vulgar to wear such large stones.”
he abruptly started off across the room and she followed him, bewildered, to the closed doors.
“what is the matter? where are you going?”
‘to my rooms to finish packing.”
“oh, but—”
“but, what?”
“nothing. i hope you have a nice trip.”
“thank you.”
he opened the door and walked into the hall. scarlett trailed after him, somewhat at a loss, atrifle disappointed as at an unexpected anticlimax. he slipped on his coat and picked up his glovesand hat.
“i’ll write you. let me know if you change your mind.”
“aren’t you—”
“well?” he seemed impatient to be off.
“aren’t you going to kiss me good-by?” she whispered, mindful of the ears of the house.
“don’t you think you’ve had enough kissing for one evening?” he retorted and grinned down ather. “to think of a modest, well-brought-up young woman— well, i told you it would be fun,didn’t i?”
“oh, you are impossible!” she cried in wrath, not caring if mammy did hear. “and i don’t care ifyou never come back.”
she turned and flounced toward the stairs, expecting to feel his warm hand on her arm, stopping her. but he only pulled open the front door and a cold draft swept in.
“but i will come back,” he said and went out, leaving her on the bottom step looking at theclosed door.
the ring rhett brought back from england was large indeed, so large it embarrassed scarlett towear it. she loved gaudy and expensive jewelry but she had an uneasy feeling that everyone wassaying, with perfect truth, that this ring was vulgar. the central stone was a four-carat diamondand, surrounding it, were a number of emeralds. it reached to the knuckle of her finger and gaveher hand the appearance of being weighted down. scarlett had a suspicion that rhett had gone togreat pains to have the ring made up and, for pure meanness, had ordered it made as ostentatious aspossible.
until rhett was back in atlanta and the ring on her finger she told no one, not even her family,of her intentions, and when she did announce her engagement a storm of bitter gossip broke out.
since the klan affair rhett and scarlett had been, with the exception of the yankees andcarpetbaggers, the town’s most unpopular citizens. everyone had disapproved of scarlett since thefar-away day when she abandoned the weeds worn for charlie hamilton. their disapproval hadgrown stronger because of her unwomanly conduct in the matter of the mills, her immodesty inshowing herself when she was pregnant and so many other things. but when she brought about thedeath of frank and tommy and jeopardized the lives of a dozen other men, their dislike flamedinto public condemnation.
as for rhett, he had enjoyed the town’s hatred since his speculations during the war and he hadnot further endeared himself to his fellow citizens by his alliances with the republicans since then.
but, oddly enough, the fact that he had saved the lives of some of atlanta’s most prominent menwas what aroused the hottest hate of atlanta’s ladies.
it was not that they regretted their men were still alive. it was that they bitterly resented owingthe men’s lives to such a man as rhett and to such an embarrassing trick. for months they hadwrithed under yankee laughter and scorn, and the ladies felt and said that if rhett really had thegood of the klan at heart he would have managed the affair in a more seemly fashion. they said hehad deliberately dragged in belle watling to put the nice people of the town in a disgracefulposition. and so he deserved neither thanks for rescuing the men nor forgiveness for his past sins.
these women, so swift to kindness, so tender to the sorrowing, so untiring in times of stress,could be as implacable as furies to any renegade who broke one small law of their unwritten code.
this code was simple. reverence for the confederacy, honor to the veterans; loyalty to old forms,pride in poverty, open hands to friends and undying hatred to yankees. between them, scarlett andrhett had outraged every tenet of this code.
the men whose lives rhett had saved attempted, out of decency and a sense of gratitude, tokeep their women silent but they had little success. before the announcement of their comingmarriage, the two had been unpopular enough but people could still be polite to them in a formalway. now even that cold courtesy was no longer possible. the news of their engagement came likean explosion, unexpected and shattering, rocking the town, and even the mildest-mannered womenspoke their minds heatedly. marrying barely a year after frank’s death and she had killed him! andmarrying that butler man who owned a brothel and who was in with the yankees and carpetbag gers in all kinds of thieving schemes! separately the two of them could be endured, but the brazencombination of scarlett and rhett was too much to be borne. common and vile, both of them!
they ought to be run out of town!
atlanta might perhaps have been more tolerant toward the two if the news of their engagementhad not come at a time when rhett’s carpetbagger and scalawag cronies were more odious in thesight of respectable citizens than they had ever been before. public feeling against the yankees andall their allies was at fever heat at the very time when the town learned of the engagement, for thelast citadel of georgia’s resistance to yankee rule had just fallen. the long campaign which hadbegun when sherman moved southward from above dalton, four years before, had finally reachedits climax, and the state’s humiliation was complete.
three years of reconstruction had passed and they had been three years of terrorism. everyonehad thought that conditions were already as bad as they could ever be. but now georgia wasdiscovering that reconstruction at its worst had just begun.
for three years the federal government had been trying to impose alien ideas and an alien ruleupon georgia and, with an army to enforce its commands, it had largely succeeded. but only thepower of the military upheld the new regime. the state was under the yankee rule but not by thestate’s consent. georgia’s leaders had kept on battling for the state’s right to govern itselfaccording to its own ideas. they had continued resisting all efforts to force them to bow down andaccept the dictates of washington as their own state law.
officially, georgia’s government had never capitulated but it had been a futile fight, an ever-losing fight. it was a fight that could not win but it had, at least, postponed the inevitable. alreadymany other southern states had illiterate negroes in high public office and legislatures dominatedby negroes and carpetbaggers. but georgia, by its stubborn resistance, had so far escaped thisfinal degradation. for the greater part of three years, the state’s capital had remained in the controlof white men and democrats. with yankee soldiers everywhere, the state officials could do littlebut protest and resist. their power was nominal but they had at least been able to keep the stategovernment in the hands of native georgians. now even that last stronghold had fallen.
just as johnston and his men had been driven back step by step from dalton to atlanta, fouryears before, so had the georgia democrats been driven back little by little, from 1865 on. thepower of the federal government over the state’s affairs and the lives of its citizens had beensteadily made greater and greater. force had been piled on top of force and military edicts inincreasing numbers had rendered the civil authority more and more impotent. finally, with georgiain the status of a military province, the polls had been ordered thrown open to the negroes, whetherthe state’s laws permitted it or not.
a week before scarlett and rhett announced their engagement, an election for governor hadbeen held. the southern democrats had general john b. gordon, one of georgia’s best loved andmost honored citizens, as their candidate. opposing him was a republican named bullock. theelection had lasted three days instead of one. trainloads of negroes had been rushed from town totown, voting at every precinct along the way. of course, bullock had won.
if the capture of georgia by sherman had caused bitterness, the final capture of the state’scapitol by the carpetbaggers, yankees and negroes caused an intensity of bitterness such as the state had never known before. atlanta and georgia seethed and raged.
and rhett butler was a friend of the hated bullock!
scarlett, with her usual disregard of all matters not directly under her nose, had scarcely knownan election was being held. rhett had taken no part in the election and his relations with theyankees were no different from what they had always been. but the fact remained that rhett was ascalawag and a friend of bullock. and, if the marriage went through, scarlett also would beturning scalawag. atlanta was in no mood to be tolerant or charitable toward anyone in the enemycamp and, the news of the engagement coming when it did, the town remembered all of the evilthings about the pair and none of the good.
scarlett knew the town was rocking but she did not realize the extent of public feeling until mrs.
merriwether, urged on by her church circle, took it upon herself to speak to her for her own good.
“because your own dear mother is dead and miss pitty, not being a matron, is not qualified to—er, well, to talk to you-upon such a subject, i feel that i must warn you, scarlett, captain butler isnot the kind of a man for any woman of good family to marry. he is a—”
“he managed to save grandpa merriwether’s neck and your nephew’s, too.”
mrs. merriwether swelled. hardly an hour before she had had an irritating talk with grandpa.
the old man had remarked that she must not value his hide very much if she did not feel somegratitude to rhett butler, even if the man was a scalawag and a scoundrel.
“he only did that as a dirty trick on us all, scarlett, to embarrass us in front of the yankees,”
mrs. merriwether continued. “you know as well as i do that the man is a rogue. he always hasbeen and now he’s unspeakable. he is simply not the kind of man decent people receive.”
“no? that’s strange, mrs. merriwether. he was in your parlor often enough during the war. andhe gave maybelle her white satin wedding dress, didn’t he? or is my memory wrong?”
things are so different during the war and nice people associated with many men who were notquite— it was all for the cause and very proper, too. surely you can’t be thinking of marrying aman who wasn’t in the army, who jeered at men who did enlist?”
“he was, too, in the army. he was in the army eight months. he was in the last campaign andfought at franklin and was with general johnston when he surrendered.”
“i had not heard that,” said mrs. merriwether and she looked as if she did not believe it either.
“but he wasn’t wounded,” she added, triumphantly.
“lots of men weren’t.”
“everybody who was anybody got wounded. i know no one who wasn’t wounded.”
scarlett was goaded.
“then i guess all the men you knew were such fools they didn’t know when to come in out of ashower of rain—or of minie balls. now, let me tell you this, mrs. merriwether, and you can take itback to your busybody friends. i’m going to marry captain butler and i wouldn’t care if he’dfought on the yankee side.”
when that worthy matron went out of the house with her bonnet jerking with rage, scarlett knewshe had an open enemy now instead of a disapproving friend. but she did not care. nothing mrs.
merriwether could say or do could hurt her. she did not care what anyone said—anyone exceptmammy.
scarlett had borne with pitty’s swooning at the news and had steeled herself to see ashley looksuddenly old and avoid her eyes as he wished her happiness. she had been amused and irritated atthe letters from aunt pauline and aunt eulalie in charleston, horror struck at the news, forbiddingthe marriage, telling her it would not only ruin her social position but endanger theirs. she hadeven laughed when melanie with a worried pucker in her brows said loyally: “of course, captainbutler is much nicer than most people realize and he was so kind and clever, the way he savedashley. and after all, he did fight for the confederacy. but, scarlett, don’t you think you’d betternot decide so hastily?”
no, she didn’t mind what anybody said, except mammy. mammy’s words were the ones thatmade her most angry and brought the greatest hurt“ah has seed you do a heap of things dat would hu’t miss ellen, did she know. an’ it has donesorrered me a plen’y. but disyere is de wust yit. mahyin’ trash! yas’m, ah said trash! doan gotellin’ me he come frum fine folkses. dat doan mek no diffunce. trash come outer de high places,same as de low, and he trash! yas’m, miss scarlett, ah’s seed you tek mist’ charles ‘way frummiss honey w’en you din’ keer nuthin’ ‘bout him. an’ ah’s seed you rob yo own sister of mist’
frank. an’ ah’s heshed mah mouf ‘bout a heap of things you is done, lak sellin’ po’ lumber fergood, an’ lyin’ ‘bout de other lumber gempmums, an’ ridin’ roun’ by yo’seff, exposin’ yo’seff terfree issue niggers an’ gettin’ mist’ frank shot, an’ not feedin’ dem po’ convicts nuff ter keep deysouls in dey bodies. ah’s done heshed mah mouf, even ef miss ellen in de promise lan’ wuzsayin’ ‘mammy, mammy! you ain’ look affer mah chile right!’ yas’m. ah’s stood fer all dat but ahain’ gwine stand fer dis, miss scarlett. you kain mahy wid trash. not w’ile ah got breaf in mahbody.”
“i shall marry whom i please,” said scarlett coldly. “i think you are forgetting your place,mammy.”
“an’ high time, too! ef ah doan say dese wuds ter you, who gwine ter do it?”
“i’ve been thinking the matter over, mammy, and i’ve decided that the best thing for you to dois to go back to tara. i’ll give you some money and—”
mammy drew herself up with all her dignity.
“ah is free, miss scarlett. you kain sen’ me nowhar ah doan wanter go. an’ w’en ah goes backter tara, it’s gwine be w’en you goes wid me. ah ain’ gwine leave miss ellen’s chile, an’ dar ain’
no way in de worl’ ter mek me go. an’ ah ain’ gwine leave miss ellen’s gran’chillun fer no trashystep-pa ter bring up, needer. hyah ah is and hyah ah stays!”
“i will not have you staying in my house and being rude to captain butler. i am going to marryhim and there’s no more to be said.”
“dar is plen’y mo’ ter be said,” retorted mammy slowly and into her blurred old eyes there camethe light of battle.
“but ah ain’ never thought ter say it ter none of miss ellen’s blood. but, miss scarlett, lissen terme. you ain’ nuthin’ but a mule in hawse harness. you kin polish a mule’s feet an’ shine his hidean’ put brass all over his harness an’ hitch him ter a fine cah’ige. but he a mule jes’ de same. hedoan fool nobody. an’ you is jes’ de same. you got silk dresses an’ de mills an’ de sto’ an’ demoney, an’ you give yo’seff airs lak a fine hawse, but you a mule jes’ de same. an’ you ain’ foolin’
nobody, needer. an’ dat butler man, he come of good stock and he all slicked up lak a race hawse,but he a mule in hawse harness, jes’ lak you.”
mammy bent a piercing look on her mistress. scarlett was speechless and quivering with insult.
“ef you say you gwine mahy him, you gwine do it, ‘cause you is bullhaided lak yo’ pa. but‘member dis, miss scarlett, ah ain’ leavin’ you. ah gwine stay right hyah an’ see dis ting thoo.”
without waiting for a reply, mammy turned and left scarlett and if she had said: “thou shalt seeme at philippi!” her tones would not have been more ominous.
while they were honeymooning in new orleans scarlett told rhett of mammy’s words. to hersurprise and indignation he laughed at mammy’s statement about mules in horse harness.
“i have never heard a profound truth expressed so succinctly,” he said. “mammy’s a smart oldsoul and one of the few people i know whose respect and good will i’d like to have. but, being amule, i suppose i’ll never get either from her. she even refused the ten-dollar gold piece which i,in my groomlike fervor, wished to present her after the wedding. i’ve seen so few people who didnot melt at the sight of cash. but she looked me in the eye and thanked me and said she wasn’t afree issue nigger and didn’t need my money.”
“why should she take on so? why should everybody gabble about me like a bunch of guineahens? it’s my own affair whom i marry and how often i marry. i’ve always minded my ownbusiness. why don’t other people mind theirs?”
“my pet, the world can forgive practically anything except people who mind their own business.
but why should you squall like a scalded cat? you’ve said often enough that you didn’t mind whatpeople said about you. why not prove it? you know you’ve laid yourself open to criticism so oftenin small matters, you can’t expect to escape gossip in this large matter. you knew there’d be talk ifyou married a villain like me. if i were a low-bred poverty-stricken villain, people wouldn’t be somad. but a rich, flourishing villain—of course, that’s unforgivable.”
“i wish you’d, be serious sometimes!”
“i am serious. it’s always annoying
