WHEN THE LAST GOOD-BY had been said and the last sound of wheels and hooves diedaway, Scarlett went into Ellen’s office and removed a gleaming object from where she had hiddenit the night before between the yellowed papers in the pigeon-holes of the secretary. Hearing Porksniffling in the dining room as he went about laying the table for dinner she called to him. He cameto her, his black face as forlorn as a lost and masterless hound.
“Pork,” she said sternly, “you cry just once more and I’ll—I’ll cry, too. You’ve got to stop.”
“Yas’m. Ah try but eve’y time Ah try Ah thinks of Mist’ Gerald an’—”
“Well, don’t think. I can stand everybody else’s tears but not yours. There.” she broke off gently,“don’t you see? I can’t stand yours because I know how you loved him. Blow your nose, Pork. I’vegot a present for you.”
A little interest flickered2 in Pork’s eyes as he blew his nose loudly but it was more politenessthan interest.
“You remember that night you got shot robbing somebody’s hen house?”
“Lawd Gawd, Miss Scarlett! Ah ain’ never—”
“Well, you did, so don’t lie to me about it at this late date. You remember I said I was going togive you a watch for being so faithful?”
“Yas’m, Ah ‘members. Ah figgered you’d done fergot.”
“No, I didn’t forget and here it is.”
She held out for him a massive gold watch, heavily embossed, from which dangled4 a chain withmany fobs and seals.
“Fo’ Gawd, Miss Scarlett!” cried Pork. “Dat’s Mist’ Gerald’s watch! Ah done seen him look atdat watch a milyun times!”
“Yes, it’s Pa’s watch, Pork, and I’m giving it to you. Take it.”
“Oh, no’m!” Pork retreated in horror. “Dat’s a w’ite gempmum’s watch an’ Mist’ Gerald’s terboot. Huccome you talk ‘bout givin’ it ter me, Miss Scarlett? Dat watch belong by rights ter lilWade Hampton.”
“It belongs to you. What did Wade5 Hampton ever do for Pa? Did he look after him when he wassick and feeble? Did he bathe him and dress him and shave him? Did he stick by him when theYankees came? Did he steal for him? Don’t be a fool, Pork. If ever anyone deserved a watch, youdo, and I know Pa would approve. Here.”
She picked up the black hand and laid the watch in the palm. Pork gazed at it reverently6 andslowly delight spread over his face.
“Fer me, truly, Miss Scarlett?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Well’m—thankee, Ma’m.”
“Would you like for me to take it to Atlanta and have it engraved7?”
“Whut’s dis engrabed mean?” Pork’s voice was suspicious.
“It means to put writing on the back of it, like—like ‘To Pork from the O’Haras—Well donegood and faithful servant.’ ”
“No’m—thankee. Ma’m. Never mind de engrabin’.” Pork retreated a step, clutching the watchfirmly.
A little smile twitched8 her lips.
“What’s the matter, Pork? Don’t you trust me to bring it back?”
“Yas’m, Ah trus’es you—only, well’m, you mout change yo’ mind.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well’m, you mout sell it. Ah spec it’s wuth a heap.”
“Do you think I’d sell Pa’s watch?”
“Yas’m—ef you needed de money.”
“You ought to be beat for that, Pork. I’ve a mind to take the watch back.”
“No’m, you ain’!” The first faint smile of the day showed on Pork’s grief-worn face. “Ah knowsyou— An’ Miss Scarlett—”
“Yes, Pork?”
“Ef you wuz jes’ half as nice ter w’ite folks as you is ter niggers, Ah spec de worl’ would treatyou better.”
“It treats me well enough,” she said. “Now, go find Mr. Ashley and tell him I want to see himhere, right away.”
Ashley sat on Ellen’s little writing chair, his long body dwarfing9 the frail10 bit of furniture whileScarlett offered him a half-interest in the mill. Not once did his eyes meet hers and he spoke11 noword of interruption. He sat looking down at his hands, turning them over slowly, inspecting firstpalms and then backs, as though he had never seen them before. Despite hard work, they were stillslender and sensitive looking and remarkably12 well tended for a farmer’s hands.
His bowed head and silence disturbed her a little and she redoubled her efforts to make the millsound attractive. She brought to bear, too, all the charm of smile and glance she possessed13 but theywere wasted, for he did not raise his eyes. If he would only look at her! She made no mention ofthe information Will had given her of Ashley’s determination to go North and spoke with the outward assumption that no obstacle stood in the way of his agreement with her plan. Still he didnot speak and finally, her words trailed into silence. There was a determined14 squareness about hisslender shoulders that alarmed her. Surely he wouldn’t refuse! What earthly reason could he havefor refusing?
“Ashley,” she began again and paused. She had not intended using her pregnancy15 as anargument, had shrunk from the thought of Ashley even seeing her so bloated and ugly, but as herother persuasions16 seemed to have made no impression, she decided17 to use it and her helplessnessas a last card.
“You must come to Atlanta. I do need your help so badly now, because I can’t look after themills. It may be months before I can because—you see—well, because ...”
“Please!” he said roughly. “Good God, Scarlett!”
He rose and went abruptly18 to the window and stood with his back to her, watching the solemnsingle file of ducks parade across the barnyard.
“Is that—is that why you won’t look at me?” she questioned forlornly. “I know I look—”
He swung around in a flash and his gray eyes met hers with an intensity20 that made her hands goto her throat.
“Damn your looks!” he said with a swift violence. “You know you always look beautiful to me.”
Happiness flooded her until her eyes were liquid with tears.
“How sweet of you to say that! For I was so ashamed to let you see me—”
“You ashamed? Why should you be ashamed? I’m the one to feel shame and I do. If it hadn’tbeen for my stupidity you wouldn’t be in this fix. You’d never have married Frank. I should neverhave let you leave Tara last winter. Oh, fool that I was! I should have known you—known youwere desperate, so desperate that you’d—I should have—I should have—” His face went haggard.
Scarlett’s heart beat wildly. He was regretting that he had not run away with her!
“The least I could have done was go out and commit highway robbery or murder to get the taxmoney for you when you had taken us in as beggars. Oh, I messed it up all the way around!”
Her heart contracted with disappointment and some of the happiness went from her, for thesewere not the words she hoped to hear.
“I would have gone anyway,” she said tiredly. “I couldn’t have let you do anything like that. Andanyway, it’s done now.”
“Yes, it’s done now,” he said with slow bitterness. “You wouldn’t have let me do anythingdishonorable but you would sell yourself to a man you didn’t love—and bear his child, so that myfamily and I wouldn’t starve. It was kind of you to shelter my helplessness.”
The edge in his voice spoke of a raw, unhealed wound that ached within him and his wordsbrought shame to her eyes. He was swift to see it and his face changed to gentleness.
“You didn’t think I was blaming you? Dear God, Scarlett! No. You are the bravest woman I’veever known. It’s myself I’m blaming.”
He turned and looked out of the window again and the shoulders presented to her gaze did notlook quite so square. Scarlett waited a long moment in silence, hoping that Ashley would return tothe mood in which he spoke of her beauty, hoping he would say more words that she couldtreasure. It had been so long since she had seen him and she had lived on memories until they wereworn thin. She knew he still loved her. That fact was evident, in every line of him, in every bitter,self-condemnatory word, in his resentment21 at her bearing Frank’s child. She so longed to hear himsay it in words, longed to speak words herself that would provoke a confession22, but she dared not.
She remembered her promise given last winter in the orchard23, that she would never again throwherself at his head. Sadly she knew that promise must be kept if Ashley were to remain near her.
One cry from her of love and longing24, one look that pleaded for his arms, and the matter would besettled forever. Ashley would surely go to New York. And he must not go away.
“Oh, Ashley, don’t blame yourself! How could it be your fault? You will come to Atlanta andhelp me, won’t you?”
“No.”
“But, Ashley,” her voice was beginning to break with anguish25 and disappointment, “But I’dcounted on you. I do need you so. Frank can’t help me. He’s so busy with the store and if you don’tcome I don’t know where I can get a man! Everybody in Atlanta who is smart is busy with his ownaffairs and the others are so incompetent26 and—”
“It’s no use, Scarlett.”
“You mean you’d rather go to New York and live among Yankees than come to Atlanta?”
“Who told you that?” He turned and faced her, faint annoyance27 wrinkling his forehead.
“Will.”
“Yes, I’ve decided to go North. An old friend who made the Grand Tour with me before the warhas offered me a position in his father’s bank. It’s better so, Scarlett. I’d be no good to you. I knownothing of the lumber28 business.”
“But you know less about banking29 and it’s much harder! And I know I’d make far moreallowances for your inexperience than Yankees would!”
He winced30 and she knew she had said the wrong thing. He turned and looked out of the windowagain.
“I don’t want allowances made for me. I want to stand on my own feet for what I’m worth.
What have I done with my life, up till now? It’s time I made something of myself—or went downthrough my own fault. I’ve been your pensioner31 too long already.”
“But I’m offering you a half-interest in the mill, Ashley! You would be standing32 on your ownfeet because—you see, it would be your own business.”
“It would amount to the same thing. I’d not be buying the half-interest I’d be taking it as a giftAnd I’ve taken too many gifts from you already, Scarlett—food and shelter and even clothes formyself and Melanie and the baby. And I’ve given you nothing in return.”
“Oh, but you have! Will couldn’t have—”
“I can split kindling33 very nicely now.”
“Oh, Ashley!” she cried despairingly, tears in her eyes at the jeering34 note in his voice. “What hashappened to you since I’ve been gone? You sound so hard and bitter! You didn’t used to be thisway.”
“What’s happened? A very remarkable35 thing, Scarlett. I’ve been thinking. I don’t believe I reallythought from the time of the surrender until you went away from here. I was in a state ofsuspended animation36 and it was enough that I had something to eat and a bed to lie on. But whenyou went to Atlanta, shouldering a man’s burden, I saw myself as much less than a man—muchless, indeed, than a woman. Such thoughts aren’t pleasant to live with and I do not intend to livewith them any longer. Other men came out of the war with less than I had, and look at them now.
So I’m going to New York.”
“But—I don’t understand! If it’s work you want, why won’t Atlanta do as well as New York?
And my mill—”
“No, Scarlett This is my last chance. I’ll go North. If I go to Atlanta and work for you, I’m lostforever.”
The word “lost—lost—lost” dinged frighteningly in her heart like a death bell sounding. Hereyes went quickly to his but they were wide and crystal gray and they were looking through herand beyond her at some fate she could not see, could not understand.
“Lost? Do you mean—have you done something the Atlanta Yankees can get you for? I mean,about helping37 Tony get away or—or— Oh, Ashley, you aren’t in the Ku Klux, are you?”
His remote eyes came back to her swiftly and he smiled a brief smile that never reached hiseyes.
“I had forgotten you were so literal. No, it’s not the Yankees I’m afraid of. I mean if I go toAtlanta and take help from you again, I bury forever any hope of ever standing alone.”
“Oh,” she sighed in quick relief, “if it’s only that!
“Yes,” and he smiled again, the smile more wintry than before. “Only that. Only my masculinepride, my self-respect and, if you choose to so call it, my immortal38 soul.”
“But,” she swung around on another tack39, “you could gradually buy the mill from me and itwould be your own and then—”
“Scarlett,” he interrupted fiercely, “I tell you, no! There are other reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“You know my reasons better than anyone in the world.”
“Oh—that? But—that’ll be all right,” she assured swiftly. “I promised, you know, out in theorchard, last winter and I’ll keep my promise and—”
“Then you are surer of yourself than I am. I could not count on myself to keep such a promise. Ishould not have said that but I had to make you understand. Scarlett, I will not talk of this anymore. It’s finished. When Will and Suellen marry, I am going to New York.”
His eyes, wide and stormy, met hers for an instant and then he went swiftly across the room. Hishand was on the door knob. Scarlett stared at him in agony. The interview was ended and she hadlost. Suddenly weak from the strain and sorrow of the last day and the present disappointment, hernerves broke abruptly and she screamed: “Oh, Ashley!” And, flinging herself down on the saggingsofa, she burst into wild crying.
She heard his uncertain footsteps leaving the door and his helpless voice saying-her name overand over above her head. There was a swift pattering of feet racing40 up the hall from the kitchen andMelanie burst into the room, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Scarlett ... the baby isn’t ... ?”
Scarlett burrowed41 her head in the dusty upholstery and screamed again.
“Ashley—he’s so mean! So doggoned mean—so hateful!”
“Oh, Ashley, what have you done to her?” Melanie threw herself on the floor beside the sofa andgathered Scarlett into her arms. “What have you said? How could you! You might bring on thebaby! There, my darling, put your head on Melanie’s shoulder! What is wrong?”
“Ashley—he’s so—so bullheaded and hateful!”
“Ashley, I’m surprised at you! Upsetting her so much and in her condition and Mr. O’Harahardly in his grave!”
“Don’t you fuss at him!” cried Scarlett illogically, raising her head abruptly from Melanie’sshoulder, her coarse black hair tumbling out from its net and her face streaked42 with tears. “He’s gota right to do as he pleases!”
“Melanie,” said Ashley, his face white, “let me explain. Scarlett was kind enough to offer me aposition in Atlanta as manager of one of her mills—”
“Manager!” cried Scarlett indignantly. I offered him a half-interest and he—”
“And I told her I had already made arrangements for us to go North and she—”
“Oh,” cried Scarlett, beginning to sob43 again, “I told him and told him how much I needed him—how I couldn’t get anybody to manage the mill—how I was going to have this baby—and herefused to come! And now—now, I’ll have to sell the mill and I know I can’t get anything like agood price for it and I’ll lose money and I guess maybe we’ll starve, but he won’t care. He’s somean!”
She burrowed her head back into Melanie’s thin shoulder and some of the real anguish wentfrom her as a flicker3 of hope woke in her. She could sense that in Melanie’s devoted44 heart she hadan ally, feel Melanie’s indignation that anyone, even her beloved husband, should make Scarlettcry. Melanie flew at Ashley like a small determined dove and pecked him for the first time in herlife.
“Ashley, how could you refuse her? And after all she’s done for us! How ungrateful you makeus appear! And she so helpless now with the bab— How unchivalrous of you! She helped us whenwe needed help and now you deny her when she needs you!”
Scarlett peeped slyly at Ashley and saw surprise and uncertainty45 plain in his face as he looked into Melanie’s dark indignant eyes. Scarlett was surprised, too, at the vigor46 of Melanie’s attack, forshe knew Melanie considered her husband beyond wifely reproaches and thought his decisionssecond only to God’s.
“Melanie ...” he began and then threw out his hands helplessly.
“Ashley, how can you hesitate? Think what she’s done for us—for me! I’d have died in Atlantawhen Beau came if it hadn’t been for her! And she—yes, she killed a Yankee, defending us. Didyou know that? She killed a man for us. And she worked and slaved before you and Will camehome, just to keep food in our mouths. And when I think of her plowing47 and picking cotton, Icould just— Oh, my darling!” And she swooped48 her head and kissed Scarlett’s tumbled hair infierce loyalty49. “And now the first time she asks us to do something for her—”
“You don’t need to tell me what she has done for us.”
“And Ashley, just think! Besides helping her, just think what it’ll mean for us to live in Atlantaamong our own people and not have to live with Yankees! There’ll be Auntie and Uncle Henry andall our friends, and Beau can have lots of playmates and go to school. If we went North, wecouldn’t let him go to school and associate with Yankee children and have pickaninnies in hisclass! We’d have to have a governess and I don’t see how we’d afford—”
“Melanie,” said Ashley and his voice was deadly quiet, “do you really want to go to Atlanta sobadly? You never said so when we talked about going to New York. You never intimated—”
“Oh, but when we talked about going to New York, I thought there was nothing for you inAtlanta and, besides, it wasn’t my place to say anything. It’s a wife’s duty to go where her husbandgoes. But now that Scarlett needs us so and has a position that only you can fill we can go home!
Home!” Her voice was rapturous as she squeezed Scarlett. “And I’ll see Five Points again andPeachtree road and— and— Oh, how I’ve missed them all! And maybe we could have a littlehome of our own! I wouldn’t care how little and tacky it was but—a home of our own!”
Her eyes blazed with enthusiasm and happiness and the two stared at her, Ashley with a queerstunned look, Scarlett with surprise mingled50 with shame. It had never occurred to her that Melaniemissed Atlanta so much and longed to be back, longed for a home of her own. She had seemed socontented at Tara it came to Scarlett as a shock that she was homesick.
“Oh Scarlett, how good of you to plan all this for us! You knew how I longed for home!”
As usual when confronted by Melanie’s habit of attributing worthy52 motives53 where no worthexisted, Scarlett was ashamed and irritated, and suddenly she could not meet either Ashley’s orMelanie’s eyes.
“We could get a little house of our own. Do you realize that we’ve been married five years andnever had a home?”
“You can stay with us at Aunt Pitty’s. That’s your home,” mumbled54 Scarlett, toying with apillow and keeping her eyes down to hide dawning triumph in them as she felt the tide turning herway.
“No, but thank you just the same, darling. That would crowd us so. We’ll get a house— Oh,Ashley, do say Yes!”
“Scarlett,” said Ashley and his voice was toneless, “look at me.”
Startled, she looked up and met gray eyes that were bitter and full of tired futility55.
“Scarlett, I will come to Atlanta. ... I cannot fight you both.”
He turned and walked out of the room. Some of the triumph in her heart was dulled by anagging fear. The look in his eyes when he spoke had been the same as when he said he would belost forever if he came to Atlanta.
After Suellen and Will married and Carreen went off to Charleston to the convent, Ashley,Melanie and Beau came to Atlanta, bringing Dilcey with them to cook and nurse. Prissy and Porkwere left at Tara until such a time as Will could get other darkies to help him in the fields and thenthey, too, would come to town.
The little brick house that Ashley took for his family was on Ivy56 Street directly behind AuntPitty’s house and the two back yards ran together, divided only by a ragged57 overgrown privethedge. Melanie had chosen it especially for this reason. She said, on the first morning of her returnto Atlanta as she laughed and cried and embraced Scarlett and Aunt Pitty, she had been separatedfrom her loved ones for so long that she could never be close enough to them again.
The house had originally been two stories high but the upper floor had been destroyed by shellsduring the siege and the owner, returning after the surrender, had lacked the money to replace it.
He had contented51 himself with putting a flat roof on the remaining first floor which gave thebuilding the squat58, disproportionate look of a child’s playhouse built of shoe boxes. The house washigh from the ground, built over a large cellar, and the long sweeping59 flight of stairs which reachedit made it look slightly ridiculous. But the flat, squashed look of the place was partly redeemed60 bythe two fine old oaks which shaded it and a dusty-leaved magnolia, splotched with white blossoms,standing beside the front steps. The lawn was wide and green with thick clover and bordering itwas a straggling, unkempt privet hedge, interlaced with sweet-smelling honeysuckle vines. Hereand there in the grass, roses threw out sprangles from crushed old stems and pink and white crêpemyrtle bloomed as valiantly61 as if war had not passed over their heads and Yankee horses gnawedtheir boughs62.
Scarlett thought it quite the ugliest dwelling63 she had ever seen but, to Melanie, Twelve Oaks inall its grandeur64 had not been more beautiful. It was home and she and Ashley and Beau were at lasttogether under their own roof.
India Wilkes came back from Macon, where she and Honey had lived since 1864, and took upher residence with her brother, crowding the occupants of the little house. But Ashley and Melaniewelcomed her. Times had changed, money was scarce, but nothing had altered the rule of Southernlife that families always made room gladly for indigent65 or unmarried female relatives.
Honey had married and, so India said, married beneath her, a coarse Westerner from Mississippiwho had settled in Macon. He had a red face and a loud voice and jolly ways. India had notapproved of the match and, not approving, had not been happy in her brother-in-law’s home. Shewelcomed the news that Ashley now had a home of his own, so she could remove herself fromuncongenial surroundings and also from the distressing66 sight of her sister so fatuously67 happy with a man unworthy of her.
The rest of the family privately68 thought that the giggling69 and simple-minded Honey had done farbetter than could be expected and they marveled that she had caught any man. Her husband was agentleman and a man of some means; but to India, born in Georgia and reared in Virginiatraditions, anyone not from the eastern seaboard was a boor70 and a barbarian71. Probably Honey’shusband was as happy to be relieved of her company as she was to leave him, for India was noteasy to live with these days.
The mantle72 of spinsterhood was definitely on her shoulders now. She was twenty-five andlooked it, and so there was no longer any need for her to try to be attractive. Her pale lashless74 eyeslooked directly and uncompromisingly upon the world and her thin lips were ever set in haughtytightness. There was an air of dignity and pride about her now that, oddly enough, became herbetter than the determined girlish sweetness of her days at Twelve Oaks. The position she held wasalmost that of a widow. Everyone knew that Stuart Tarleton would have married her had he notbeen killed at Gettysburg, and so she was accorded the respect due a woman who had been wantedif not wed1.
The six rooms of the little house on Ivy Street were soon scantily75 furnished with the cheapestpine and oak furniture in Frank’s store for, as Ashley was penniless and forced to buy on credit, herefused anything except the least expensive and bought only the barest necessities. Thisembarrassed Frank who was fond of Ashley and it distressed77 Scarlett. Both she and Frank wouldwillingly have given, without any charge, the finest mahogany and carved rosewood in the store,but the Wilkeses obstinately78 refused. Their house was painfully ugly and bare and Scarlett hated tosee Ashley living in the uncarpeted, uncurtained rooms. But he did not seem to notice hissurroundings and Melanie, having her own home for the first time since her marriage, was sohappy she was actually proud of the place. Scarlett would have suffered agonies of humiliation79 athaving friends find her without draperies and carpets and cushions and the proper number of chairsand teacups and spoons. But Melanie did the honors of her house as though plush curtains andbrocade sofas were hers.
For all her obvious happiness, Melanie was not well. Little Beau had cost her her health, and thehard work she had done at Tara since his birth had taken further toll80 of her strength. She was sothin that her small bones seemed ready to come through her white skin. Seen from a distance,romping about the back yard with her child, she looked like a little girl, for her waist wasunbelievably tiny and she had practically no figure. She had no bust81 and her hips82 were as flat aslittle Beau’s and as she had neither the pride nor the good sense (so Scarlett thought) to sew rufflesin the bosom83 of her basque or pads on the back of her corsets, her thinness was very obvious. Likeher body, her face was too thin and too pale and her silky brows, arched and delicate as abutterfly’s feelers, stood out too blackly against her colorless skin. In her small face, her eyes weretoo large for beauty, the dark smudges under them making them appear enormous, but theexpression in them had not altered since the days of her unworried girlhood. War and constant painand hard work had been powerless against their sweet tranquility. They were the eyes of a happywoman, a woman around whom storms might blow without ever ruffling84 the serene85 core of herbeing.
How did she keep her eyes that way, thought Scarlett, looking at her enviously86. She knew her own eyes sometimes had the look of a hungry cat. What was it Rhett had said once aboutMelanie’s eyes—some foolishness about them being like candles? Oh, yes, like two good deeds ina naughty world. Yes, they were like candles, candles shielded from every wind, two soft lightsglowing with happiness at being home again among her friends.
The little house was always full of company. Melanie had been a favorite even as a child and thetown flocked to welcome her home again. Everyone brought presents for the house, bric-a-brac,pictures, a silver spoon or two, linen87 pillow cases, napkins, rag rugs, small articles which they hadsaved from Sherman and treasured but which they now swore were of no earthly use to them.
Old men who had campaigned in Mexico with her father came to see her, bringing visitors tomeet “old Colonel Hamilton’s sweet daughter.” Her mother’s old friends clustered about her, forMelanie had a respectful deference88 to her elders that was very soothing89 to dowagers in these wilddays when young people seemed to have forgotten all their manners. Her contemporaries, theyoung wives, mothers and widows, loved her because she had suffered what they had suffered, hadnot ‘become embittered90 and always lent them a sympathetic ear. The young people came, as youngpeople always come, simply because they had a good time at her home and met there the friendsthey wanted to meet.
Around Melanie’s tactful and self-effacing person, there rapidly grew up a clique91 of young andold who represented what was left of the best of Atlanta’s ante-bellum society, all poor in purse, allproud in family, die-hards of the stoutest92 variety. It was as if Atlanta society, scattered93 and wreckedby war, depleted94 by death, bewildered by change, had found in her an unyielding nucleus95 aboutwhich it could re-form.
Melanie was young but she had in her all the qualities this embattled remnant prized, povertyand pride in poverty, uncomplaining courage, gaiety, hospitality, kindness and, above all, loyalty toall the old traditions. Melanie refused to change, refused even to admit that there was any reason tochange in a changing world. Under her roof the old days seemed to come back again and peopletook heart and felt even more contemptuous of the tide of wild life and high living that wassweeping the Carpetbaggers and newly rich Republicans along.
When they looked into her young face and saw there the inflexible96 loyalty to the old days, theycould forget, for a moment, the traitors97 within their own class who were causing fury, fear andheartbreak. And there were many such. There were men of good family, driven to desperation bypoverty, who had gone over to the enemy, become Republicans and accepted positions from theconquerors, so their families would not be on charity. There were young ex-soldiers who lackedthe courage to face the long years necessary to build up fortunes. These youngsters, following thelead of Rhett Butter, went hand in hand with the Carpetbaggers in money-making schemes ofunsavory kinds.
Worst of all the traitors were the daughters of some of Atlanta’s most prominent families. Thesegirls who had come to maturity98 since the surrender had only childish memories of the war andlacked the bitterness that animated99 their elders. They had lost no husbands, no lovers. They hadfew recollections of past wealth and splendor— and the Yankee officers were so handsome andfinely dressed and so carefree. And they gave such splendid balls and drove such fine horses andsimply worshiped Southern girls! They treated them like queens and were so careful not to injure their touchy100 pride and, after all—why not associate with them?
They were so much more attractive than the town swains who dressed so shabbily and were soserious and worked so hard that they had little time to play. So there had been a number ofelopements with Yankee officers which broke the hearts of Atlanta families. There were brotherswho passed sisters on the streets and did not speak and mothers and fathers who never mentioneddaughters’ names. Remembering these tragedies, a cold dread101 ran in the veins102 of those whosemotto was “No surrender”—a dread which the very sight of Melanie’s soft but unyielding facedispelled. She was, as the dowagers said, such an excellent and wholesome103 example to the younggirls of the town. And, because she made no parade of her virtues104 the young girls did not resenther.
It never occurred to Melanie that she was becoming the leader of a new society. She onlythought the people were nice to come to see her and to want her in their little sewing circles,cotillion clubs and musical societies. Atlanta had always been musical and loved good music,despite the sneering105 comments of sister cities of the South concerning the town’s lack of culture,and there was now an enthusiastic resurrection of interest that grew stronger as the times grewharder and more tense. It was easier to forget the impudent106 black faces in the streets and the blueuniforms of the garrison107 while they were listening to music.
Melanie was a little embarrassed to find herself at the head of the newly formed Saturday NightMusical Circle. She could not account for her elevation108 to this position except by the fact that shecould accompany anyone on the piano, even the Misses McLure who were tone deaf but whowould sing duets.
The truth of the matter was that Melanie had diplomatically managed to amalgamate109 the LadyHarpists, the Gentlemen’s Glee Club and the Young Ladies Mandolin and Guitar Society with theSaturday Night Musical Circle, so that now Atlanta had music worth listening to. In fact, theCircle’s rendition of The Bohemian Girl was said by many to be far superior to professionalperformances heard in New York and New Orleans. It was after she had maneuvered110 the LadyHarpists into the fold that Mrs. Merriwether said to Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Whiting that they musthave Melanie at the head of the Circle. If she could get on with the Harpists, she could get on withanyone, Mrs. Merriwether declared. That lady herself played the organ for the choir111 at theMethodist Church and, as an organist, had scant76 respect for harps112 or harpists.
Melanie had also been made secretary for both the Association for the Beautification of theGraves of Our Glorious Dead and the Sewing Circle for the Widows and Orphans113 of theConfederacy. This new honor came to her after an exciting joint114 meeting of those societies whichthreatened to end in violence and the severance115 of lifelong ties of friendship. The question hadarisen at the meeting as to whether or not weeds should be removed from the graves of the Unionsoldiers near those of Confederate soldiers. The appearance of the scraggly Yankee moundsdefeated all the efforts of the ladies to beautify those of their own dead. Immediately the fireswhich smoldered116 beneath tight basques flamed wildly and the two organizations split up andglared hostilely. The Sewing Circle was in favor of the removal of the weeds, the Ladies of theBeautification were violently opposed.
Mrs. Meade expressed the views of the latter group when she said: “Dig up the weeds off Yankee graves? For two cents, I’d dig up all the Yankees and throw them in the city dump!”
At these ringing words the two associations arose and every lady spoke her mind and no onelistened. The meeting was being held in Mrs. Merriwether’s parlor117 and Grandpa Merriwether, whohad been banished118 to the kitchen, reported afterwards that the noise sounded just like the openingguns of the battle of Franklin. And, he added, he guessed it was a dinged sight safer to be present atthe battle of Franklin than at the ladies’ meeting.
Somehow Melanie made her way to the center of the excited throng119 and somehow made herusually soft voice heard above the tumult120. Her heart was in her throat with fright at daring toaddress the indignant gathering121 and her voice shook but she kept crying: “Ladies! Please!” till thedin died down.
“I want to say—I mean, I’ve thought for a long time that—that not only should we pull up theweeds but we should plant flowers on— I—I don’t care what you think but every time I go to takeflowers to dear Charlie’s grave, I always put some on the grave of an unknown Yankee which isnear by. It—it looks so forlorn!”
The excitement broke out again in louder words and this time the two organizations merged122 andspoke as one.
“On Yankee graves! Oh, Melly, how could you! “And they killed Charlie!” “They almost killedyou!” “Why, the Yankees might have killed Beau when he was born!” “They tried to burn you outof Tara!”
Melanie held onto the back of her chair for support, almost crumpling123 beneath the weight of adisapproval she had never known before.
“Oh, ladies!” she cried, pleading. “Please, let me finish! I know I haven’t the right to speak onthis matter, for none of my loved ones were killed except Charlie, and I know where he lies, thankGod! But there are so many among us today who do not know where their sons and husbands andbrothers are buried and—”
She choked and there was a dead silence in the room.
Mrs. Meade’s flaming eyes went somber124. She had made the long trip to Gettysburg after thebattle to bring back Darcy’s body but no one had been able to tell her where he was buried.
Somewhere in some hastily dug trench125 in the enemy’s country. And Mrs. Allan’s mouth quivered.
Her husband and brother had been on that ill-starred raid Morgan made into Ohio and the lastinformation she had of them was that they fell on the banks of the river, just as the Yankee cavalrystormed up. She did not know where they lay. Mrs. Allison’s son had died in a Northern prisoncamp and she, the poorest of the poor, was unable to bring his body home. There were others whohad read on casualty lists: “Missing—believed dead,” and in those words had learned the last newsthey were ever to learn of men they had seen march away.
They turned to Melanie with eyes that said: “Why do you open these wounds again? These arethe wounds that never heal—the wounds of not knowing where they lie.”
Melanie’s voice gathered strength in the stillness of the room.
“Their graves are somewhere up in the Yankees’ country, just like the Yankee graves are here, and oh, how awful it would be to know that some Yankee woman said to dig them up and—”
Mrs. Meade made a small, dreadful sound.
“But how nice it would be to know that some good Yankee woman— And there must be somegood Yankee women. I don’t care what people say, they can’t all be bad! How nice it would be toknow that they pulled weeds off our men’s graves and brought flowers to them, even if they wereenemies. If Charlie were dead in the North it would comfort me to know that someone— And Idon’t care what you ladies think of me,” her voice broke again, “I will withdraw from both clubsand I’ll—I’ll pull up every weed off every Yankee’s grave I can find and I’ll plant flowers, too—and—I just dare anyone to stop me!”
With this final defiance127 Melanie burst into tears and tried to make her stumbling way to thedoor.
Grandpa Merriwether, safe in the masculine confines of the Girl of the Period Saloon an hourlater, reported to Uncle Henry Hamilton that after these words, everybody cried and embracedMelanie and it all ended up in a love feast and Melanie was made secretary of both organizations.
“And they are going to pull up the weeds. The hell of it is Dolly said I’d be only too pleased tohelp do it, ‘cause I didn’t have anything much else to do. I got nothing against the Yankees and Ithink Miss Melly was right and the rest of those lady wild cats wrong. But the idea of me pullingweeds at my time of life and with my lumbago!”
Melanie was on the board of lady managers of the Orphans’ Home and assisted in the collectionof books for the newly formed Young Men’s Library Association. Even the Thespians128 who gaveamateur plays once a month clamored for her. She was too timid to appear behind the kerosene-lamp footlights, but she could make costumes out of croker sacks if they were the only materialavailable. It was she who cast the deciding vote at the Shakespeare Reading Circle that the bard’sworks should be varied129 with those of Mr. Dickens and Mr. Bulwer-Lytton and not the poems ofLord Byron, as had been suggested by a young and, Melanie privately feared, very fast bachelormember of the Circle.
In the nights of the late summer her small, feebly lighted house was always full of guests. Therewere never enough chairs to go around and frequently ladies sat on the steps of the front porchwith men grouped about them on the banisters, on packing boxes or on the lawn below. Sometimeswhen Scarlett saw guests sitting on the grass, sipping130 tea, the only refreshment131 the Wilkeses couldafford, she wondered how Melanie could bring herself to expose her poverty so shamelessly. UntilScarlett was able to furnish Aunt Pitty’s house as it had been before the war and serve her guestsgood wine and juleps and baked ham and cold haunches of venison, she had no intention of havingguests in her house—especially prominent guests, such as Melanie had.
General John B. Gordon, Georgia’s great hero, was frequently there with his family. FatherRyan, the poet-priest of the Confederacy, never failed to call when passing through Atlanta. Hecharmed gatherings132 there with his wit and seldom needed much urging to recite his “Sword ofLee” or his deathless “Conquered Banner,” which never failed to make the ladies cry. AlexStephens, late Vice-President of the Confederacy, visited whenever in town and, when the wordwent about that he was at Melanie’s, the house was filled and people sat for hours under the spell of the frail invalid133 with the ringing voice. Usually there were a dozen children present, noddingsleepily in their parents’ arms, up hours after their normal bedtime. No family wanted its childrento miss being able to say in after years that they had been kissed by the great Vice-President or hadshaken the hand that helped to guide the Cause. Every person of importance who came to townfound his way to the Wilkes home and often they spent the night there. It crowded the little flat-topped house, forced India to sleep on a pallet in the cubbyhole that was Beau’s nursery and sentDilcey speeding through the back hedge to borrow breakfast eggs from Aunt Pitty’s Cookie, butMelanie entertained them as graciously as if hers was a mansion134.
No, it did not occur to Melanie that people rallied round her as round a worn and loved standard.
And so she was both astounded135 and embarrassed when Dr. Meade, after a pleasant evening at herhouse where he acquitted136 himself nobly in reading the part of Macbeth, kissed her hand and madeobservations in the voice he once used in speaking of Our Glorious Cause.
“My dear Miss Melly, it is always a privilege and a pleasure to be in your home, for you—andladies like you—are the hearts of all of us, all that we have left. They have taken the flower of ourmanhood and the laughter of our young women. They have broken our health, uprooted137 our livesand unsettled our habits. They have ruined our prosperity, set us back fifty years and placed tooheavy a burden on the shoulders of our boys who should be in school and our old men who shouldbe sleeping in the sun. But we will build back, because we have hearts like yours to build upon.
And as long as we have them, the Yankees can have the rest!”
Until Scarlett’s figure reached such proportions that even Aunt Pitty’s big black shawl did notconceal her condition, she and Frank frequently slipped through the back hedge to join thesummer-night gatherings on Melanie’s porch. Scarlett always sat well out of the light, hidden inthe protecting shadows where she was not only inconspicuous but could, unobserved, watchAshley’s face to her heart’s content.
It was only Ashley who drew her to the house, for the conversations bored and saddened her.
They always followed a set pattern—first, hard times; next, the political situation; and then,inevitably, the war. The ladies bewailed the high prices of everything and asked the gentlemen ifthey thought good times would ever come back. And the omniscient138 gentlemen always said, indeedthey would. Merely a matter of time. Hard times were just temporary. The ladies knew thegentlemen were lying and the gentlemen knew the ladies knew they were lying. But they liedcheerfully just the same and the ladies pretended to believe them. Everyone knew hard times werehere to stay.
Once the hard times were disposed of, the ladies spoke of the increasing impudence139 of thenegroes and the outrages140 of the Carpetbaggers and the humiliation of having the Yankee soldiersloafing on every corner. Did the gentlemen think the Yankees would ever get through withreconstructing Georgia? The reassuring141 gentlemen thought Reconstruction142 would be over in notime—that is, just as soon as the Democrats143 could vote again. The ladies were considerate enoughnot to ask when this would be. And having finished with politics, the talk about the war began.
Whenever two former Confederates met anywhere, there but one topic of conversation,andwhereadozenormoregatheredtogether,itwasafo(was) regone(never) conclusion that the war would be spiritedly refought. And always the word “if” had the most prominent part in thetalk.
“If England had recognized us—” “If Jeff Davis had commandeered all the cotton and gotten itto England before the blockade tightened—” “If Longstreet had obeyed orders at Gettysburg—”
“If Jeb Stuart hadn’t been away on that raid when Marse Bob needed him—” “If we hadn’t lostStonewall Jackson—” “If Vicksburg hadn’t fallen—” “If we could have held on another year—”
And always: “If they hadn’t replaced Johnston with Hood73—” or “If they’d put Hood in commandat Dalton instead of Johnston—”
If! If! The soft drawling voices quickened with an old excitement as they talked in the quietdarkness—infantryman, cavalryman144, cannoneer, evoking145 memories of the days when life was everat high tide, recalling the fierce heat of their midsummer in this forlorn sunset of their winter.
‘They don’t talk of anything else,” thought Scarlett. “Nothing but the war. Always the war. Andthey’ll never talk of anything but the war. No, not until they die.”
She looked about, seeing little boys lying in the crooks146 of their fathers’ arms, breath coming fast,eyes glowing, as they heard of midnight stories and wild cavalry126 dashes and flags planted onenemy breastworks. They were hearing drums and bugles147 and the Rebel yell, seeing footsore mengoing by in the rain with torn flags slanting148.
“And these children will never talk of anything else either. They’ll think it was wonderful andglorious to fight the Yankees and come home blind and crippled—or not come home at all. Theyall like to remember the war, to talk about it. But I don’t. I don’t even like to think about it. I’dforget it all if I could—oh, if I only could!”
She listened with flesh crawling as Melanie told tales of Tara, making Scarlett a heroine as shefaced the invaders149 and saved Charles’ sword, bragging150 how Scarlett had put out the fire. Scarletttook no pleasure or pride in the memory of these things. She did not want to think of them at all.
“Oh, why can’t they forget? Why can’t they look forward and not back? We were fools to fightthat war. And the sooner we forget it, the better we’ll be.”
But no one wanted to forget, no one, it seemed, except herself, so Scarlett was glad when shecould truthfully tell Melanie that she was embarrassed at appearing, even in the darkness. Thisexplanation was readily understood by Melanie who was hypersensitive about all matters relatingto childbirth. Melanie wanted another baby badly, but both Dr. Meade and Dr. Fontaine had saidanother child would cost her her life. So, only half resigned to her fate, she spent most of her timewith Scarlett, vicariously enjoying a pregnancy not her own. To Scarlett, scarcely wanting hercoming child and irritated at its untimeliness, this attitude seemed the height of sentimentalstupidity. But she had a guilty sense of pleasure that the doctors’ edict had made impossible anyreal intimacy151 between Ashley and his wife.
Scarlett saw Ashley frequently now but she never saw him alone. He came by the house everynight on his way home from the mill to report on the day’s work, but Frank and Pitty were usuallypresent or, worse still, Melanie and India. She could only ask businesslike questions and makesuggestions and then say: “It was nice of you to come by. Good night.”
If only she wasn’t having a baby! Here was a God-given opportunity to ride out to the mill with him every morning, through the lonely woods, far from prying152 eyes, where they could imaginethemselves back In the County again in the unhurried days before the war.
No, she wouldn’t try to make him say one word of love! She wouldn’t refer to love in any way.
She’d sworn an oath to herself that she would never do that again. But, perhaps if she were alonewith him once more, he might drop that mask of impersonal153 courtesy he had worn since coming toAtlanta. Perhaps he might be his old self again, be the Ashley she had known before the barbecue,before any word of love had been spoken between them. If they could not be lovers, they could befriends again and she could warm her cold and lonely heart in the glow of his friendship.
“If only I could get this baby over and done with,” she thought impatiently, “then I could ridewith him every day and we could talk—”
It was not only the desire to be with him that made her writhe154 with helpless impatience155 at herconfinement. The mills needed her. The mills had been losing money ever since she retired156 fromactive supervision157, leaving Hugh and Ashley in charge.
Hugh was so incompetent, for all that he tried so hard. He was a poor trader and a poorer boss oflabor. Anyone could Jew him down on prices. If any slick contractor159 chose to say that the lumberwas of an inferior grade and not worth the price asked, Hugh felt that all a gentleman could do wasto apologize and take a lower price. When she heard of the price he received for a thousand feet offlooring, she burst into angry tears. The best grade of flooring the mill had ever turned out and hehad practically given it away! And he couldn’t manage his labor158 crews. The negroes insisted onbeing paid every day and they frequently got drunk on their wages and did not turn up for work thenext morning. On these occasions Hugh was forced to hunt up new workmen and the mill was latein starting. With these difficulties Hugh didn’t get into town to sell the lumber for days on end.
Seeing the profits slip from Hugh’s fingers, Scarlett became frenzied160 at her impotence and hisstupidity. Just as soon as the baby was born and she could go back to work, she would get rid ofHugh and hire some one else. Anyone would do better. And she would never fool with free niggersagain. How could anyone get any work done with free niggers quitting all the time?
“Frank,” she said, after a stormy interview with Hugh over his missing workmen, I’ve aboutmade up my mind that I’ll lease convicts to work the mills. A while back I was talking to JohnnieGallegher, Tommy Wellburn’s foreman, about the trouble we were having getting any work out ofthe darkies and he asked me why I didn’t get convicts. It sounds like a good idea to me. He said Icould sublease them for next to nothing and feed them dirt cheap. And he said I could get work outof them in any way I liked, without having the Freedman’s Bureau swarming161 down on me likehornets, sticking their bills into things that aren’t any of their business. And just as soon as JohnnieGallegher’s contract with Tommy is up, I’m going to hire him to run Hugh’s mill. Any man whocan get work out of that bunch of wild Irish he bosses can certainly get plenty of work out ofconvicts.”
Convicts! Frank was speechless. Leasing convicts was the very worst of all the wild schemesScarlett had ever suggested, worse even than her notion of building a saloon.
At least, it seemed worse to Frank and the conservative circles in which he moved. This newsystem of leasing convicts had come into being because of the poverty of the state after the war.
Unable to support the convicts, the State was hiring them out to those needing large labor crews inthe building of railroads, in turpentine forests and lumber camps. While Frank and his quietchurchgoing friends realized the necessity of the system, they deplored162 it just the same. Many ofthem had not even believed in slavery and they thought this was far worse than slavery had everbeen.
And Scarlett wanted to lease convicts! Frank knew that if she did he could never hold up hishead again. This was far worse than owning and operating the mills herself, or anything else shehad done. His past objections had always been coupled with the question: “What will people say?”
But this—this went deeper than fear of public opinion. He felt that it was a traffic in human bodieson a par19 with prostitution, a sin that would be on his soul if he permitted her to do it.
From this conviction of wrongness, Frank gathered courage to forbid Scarlett to do such a thing,and so strong were his remarks that she, startled, relapsed into silence. Finally to quiet him, shesaid meekly163 she hadn’t really meant it She was just so outdone with Hugh and the free niggers shehad lost her temper. Secretly, she still thought about it and with some longing. Convict labor wouldsettle one of her hardest problems, but if Frank was going to take on so about it—She sighed. If even one of the mills were making money, she could stand it. But Ashley wasfaring little better with his mill than Hugh.
At first Scarlett was shocked and disappointed that Ashley did not immediately take hold andmake the mill pay double what it had paid under her management. He was so smart and he hadread so many books and there was no reason at all why he should not make a brilliant success andlots of money. But he was no more successful than Hugh. His inexperience, his errors, his utterlack of business judgment164 and his scruples165 about close dealing166 were the same as Hugh’s.
Scarlett’s love hastily found excuses for him and she did not consider the two men in the samelight. Hugh was just hopelessly stupid, while Ashley was merely new at the business. Still,unbidden, came the thought that Ashley could never make a quick estimate in his head and give aprice that was correct, as she could. And she sometimes wondered if he’d ever learn to distinguishbetween planking and sills. And because he was a gentleman and himself trustworthy, he trustedevery scoundrel who came along and several times would have lost money for her if she had nottactfully intervened. And if he liked a person—and he seemed to like so many people!—he soldthem lumber on credit without ever thinking to find out if they had money in the bank or property.
He was as bad as Frank in that respect.
But surely he would learn! And while he was learning she had a fond and maternal167 indulgenceand patience for his errors. Every evening when he called at her house, weary and discouraged, shewas tireless in her tactful, helpful suggestions. But for all her encouragement and cheer, there wasa queer dead look in his eyes. She could not understand it and it frightened her. He was different,so different from the man he used to be. If only she could see him alone, perhaps she coulddiscover the reason.
The situation gave her many sleepless168 nights. She worried about Ashley, both because she knewhe was unhappy and because she knew his unhappiness wasn’t helping him to become a goodlumber dealer169. It was a torture to have her mills in the hands of two men with no more businesssense than Hugh and Ashley, heartbreaking to see her competitors taking her best customers away when she had worked so hard and planned so carefully for these helpless months. Oh, if she couldonly get back to work again! She would take Ashley in hand and then he would certainly learn.
And Johnnie Gallegher could run the other mill, and she could handle the selling, and theneverything would be fine. As for Hugh, he could drive a delivery wagon170 if he still wanted to workfor her. That was all he was good for.
Of course, Gallegher looked like an unscrupulous man, for all of his smartness, but—who elsecould she get? Why had the other men who were both smart and honest been so perverse171 aboutworking for her? If she only had one of them working for her now in place of Hugh, she wouldn’thave to worry so much, but—Tommy Wellburn, in spite of his crippled back, was the busiest contractor in town and coiningmoney, so people said. Mrs. Merriwether and René were prospering172 and now had opened a bakerydowntown. René was managing it with true French thrift173 and Grandpa Merriwether, glad to escapefrom his chimney corner, was driving René’s pie wagon. The Simmons boys were so busy theywere operating their brick kiln174 with three shifts of labor a day. And Kells Whiting was cleaning upmoney with his hair straightener, because he told the negroes they wouldn’t ever be permitted tovote the Republican ticket if they had kinky hair.
It the with all the smart young men she knew, the doctors, the lawyers, the storekeep(was) ers.Thea(same) pathy which had clutched them immediately after the war had completelydisappeared and they were too busy building their own fortunes to help her build hers. The oneswho were not busy were the men of Hugh’s type—or Ashley’s.
What a mess it was to try to run a business and have a baby too!
“I’ll never have another one,” she decided firmly. “I’m not going to be like other women andhave a baby every year. Good Lord, that would mean six months out of the year when I’d have tobe away from the mills! And I see now I can’t afford to be away from them even one day. I shallsimply tell Frank that I won’t have any more children.”
Frank wanted a big family, but she could manage Frank somehow. Her mind was made up. Thiswas her last child. The mills were far more important.
最后一个送葬者告别了，最后一辆车轮声和马蹄声消失了，思嘉走进母亲爱伦过去的办事房，从秘书的文书格子里发黄的故纸堆里取出一件发亮的东西，这是她前一天晚上藏在这里的。听见波克在饭厅里一面摆桌子，一面抽平地哭，就叫他过来。他走进来时那张黑脸像丧家的狗的脸一样难看。
“波克，"她正颜厉色地说，"你要是再哭，我就----我就也要哭了。你可不能再哭了。““是的，小姐，我不哭了，可是每次我忍着不哭，就想起杰拉尔德老爷----"“那你就别想，别人哭，你都可以忍受，唯独你哭，我真受不了。你看，”说到这里，她停顿了一下，口气变得温和了，"你还不明白呀？你哭，我受不了，因为我知道你多么爱护老爷，去擤擤鼻子，波克。我要送你一件礼物。"波克一面大声擤鼻子，一面流露出有些感兴趣的目光，不过，与其说他感兴趣，不如说他是出自礼貌。
“那天晚上，你去偷人家的鸡，让人家开枪打伤了，你还记得吗？"“哎呀，思嘉不！我从来没有----"“好了，怎么没有，事到如今你也就别对我隐瞒了，我说过我要给你一只表，奖励你的忠诚，你还记得吗？"“是，小姐，我记得。我猜想您已经忘了。"“没有，我没忘，现在就给你。"思嘉伸出手来给他看一只沉甸甸的金表，上面刻着很多立体的花纹，一根链子垂下来，链子上也有一些装饰品。
“哎呀，思嘉小姐！"波克说：“这是杰拉尔德老爷的表！
我看见老爷看这只表，不知看了多少次。"“不错，是爸爸的表，波克，现在我把它送给你了，拿去吧。"“唔，我不要，小姐，"波克也边说往后退缩，显出很害怕的样子。"这是白人老爷们用的表，是杰拉尔德老爷的。思嘉小姐，您怎么能说把它送给我呢？这只表照理应该属于小少爷韦德·汉普顿。"“现在这只表属于你了。韦德·汉普顿为我爸爸干过什么事？爸爸生病虚弱的时候，给他洗过澡，换过衣裳，刮过脸吗，照顾过他吧？北方佬来的时候，随时跟他在一起吗？为他偷东西吗？你别这么傻，波克，要是说谁配得到这只表，那就是你了。我知道，爸爸要是在世，也会同意的。拿去吧。"说罢，她抓起波克的一只手，把表放在他的手心里。波克怀着愉快的心情看着这只表，脸上慢慢显出十分崇敬的神色。
“给我了，真的，思嘉小姐？&r
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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reverently
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dwarfing
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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13
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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14
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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15
pregnancy
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| n.怀孕，怀孕期 | |
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16
persuasions
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| n.劝说，说服（力）( persuasion的名词复数 )；信仰 | |
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17
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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18
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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19
par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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20
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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21
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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22
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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23
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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24
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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25
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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26
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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27
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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28
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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29
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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30
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
pensioner
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| n.领养老金的人 | |
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32
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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33
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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34
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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35
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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36
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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37
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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38
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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39
tack
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|
| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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40
racing
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|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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41
burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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42
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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43
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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44
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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45
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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46
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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47
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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48
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
loyalty
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|
| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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50
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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51
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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52
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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53
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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54
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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56
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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57
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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58
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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59
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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60
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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61
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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62
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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63
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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64
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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65
indigent
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的 | |
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66
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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67
fatuously
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| adv.愚昧地，昏庸地，蠢地 | |
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68
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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69
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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70
boor
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|
| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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71
barbarian
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|
| n.野蛮人；adj.野蛮(人)的；未开化的 | |
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72
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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73
hood
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|
| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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74
lashless
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|
| adj.无睫毛的 | |
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75
scantily
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|
| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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76
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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77
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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78
obstinately
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|
| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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79
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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80
toll
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|
| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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81
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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82
hips
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|
| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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83
bosom
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|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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84
ruffling
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|
| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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85
serene
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|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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86
enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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87
linen
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|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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88
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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89
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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90
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
clique
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| n.朋党派系，小集团 | |
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92
stoutest
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| 粗壮的( stout的最高级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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93
scattered
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|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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94
depleted
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| adj. 枯竭的, 废弃的 动词deplete的过去式和过去分词 | |
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95
nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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96
inflexible
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|
| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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97
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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98
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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99
animated
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|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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100
touchy
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| adj.易怒的；棘手的 | |
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101
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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102
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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103
wholesome
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|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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104
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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105
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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106
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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107
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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108
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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109
amalgamate
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| v.(指业务等)合并，混合 | |
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110
maneuvered
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| v.移动，用策略( maneuver的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵 | |
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111
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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112
harps
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| abbr.harpsichord 拨弦古钢琴n.竖琴( harp的名词复数 ) | |
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113
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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114
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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115
severance
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| n.离职金；切断 | |
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116
smoldered
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的过去式 ) | |
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117
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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118
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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120
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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121
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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122
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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123
crumpling
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的现在分词 )； 变皱 | |
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124
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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125
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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126
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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127
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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128
thespians
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| n.演员( thespian的名词复数 )；悲剧演员 | |
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129
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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130
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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131
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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132
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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133
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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134
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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135
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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136
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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137
uprooted
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|
| v.把（某物）连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 )；根除；赶走；把…赶出家园 | |
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138
omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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139
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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140
outrages
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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141
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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142
reconstruction
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| n.重建，再现，复原 | |
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143
democrats
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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144
cavalryman
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| 骑兵 | |
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evoking
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的现在分词 ) | |
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146
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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147
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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151
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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153
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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154
writhe
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| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
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155
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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156
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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157
supervision
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| n.监督，管理 | |
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158
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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161
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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166
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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167
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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170
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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172
prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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173
thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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174
kiln
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| n.（砖、石灰等）窑，炉；v.烧窑 | |
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