飘

　“Yes；　so　she　told　me。　Looks　like　most　of　the　County　was　your　beaux。　But；　all　the　same；　he　was　her　beau　after　you　turned　him　down；　because　when　he　come　home　on　his　last　furlough　they　got　engaged。　She　said　he　was　the　only　boy　she’d　ever　cared　about　and　so　it　kind　of　comforts　her　to　pray　for　him。”
　“Well；　fiddle…dee…dee！”　said　Scarlett；　a　very　small　dart　of　jealousy　entering　her。
　She　looked　curiously　at　this　lanky　man　with　his　bony　stooped　shoulders；　his　pinkish　hair　and　calm　unwavering　eyes。　So　he　knew　things　about　her　own　family　which　she　had　not　troubled　to　discover。　So　that　was　why　Carreen　mooned　about；　praying　all　the　time。　Well；　she’d　get　over　it。　Lots　of　girls　got　over　dead　sweethearts；　yes；　dead　husbands；　too。　She’d　certainly　gotten　over　Charles。　And　she　knew　one　girl　in　Atlanta　who　had　been　widowed　three　times　by　the　war　and　was　still　able　to　take　notice　of　men。　She　said　as　much　to　Will　but　he　shook　his　head。
　“Not　Miss　Carreen；”　he　said　with　finality。
　Will　was　pleasant　to　talk　to　because　he　had　so　little　to　say　and　yet　was　so　understanding　a　listener。　She　told　him　about　her　problems　of　weeding　and　hoeing　and　planting；　of　fattening　the　hogs　and　breeding　the　cow；　and　he　gave　good　advice　for　he　had　owned　a　small　farm　in　south　Georgia　and　two　negroes。　He　knew　his　slaves　were　free　now　and　the　farm　gone　to　weeds　and　seedling　pines。　His　sister；　his　only　relative；　had　moved　to　Texas　with　her　husband　years　ago　and　he　was　alone　in　the　world。　Yet；　none　of　these　things　seemed　to　bother　him　any　more　than　the　leg　he　had　left　in　Virginia。
　Yes；　Will　was　a　comfort　to　Scarlett　after　hard　days　when　the　negroes　muttered　and　Suellen　nagged　and　cried　and　Gerald　asked　too　frequently　where　Ellen　was。　She　could　tell　Will　anything。　She　even　told　him　of　killing　the　Yankee　and　glowed　with　pride　when　he　commented　briefly：　“Good　work！”
　Eventually　all　the　family　found　their　way　to　Will’s　room　to　air　their　troubles—even　Mammy；　who　had　at　first　been　distant　with　him　because　he　was　not　quality　and　had　owned　only　two　slaves。
　When　he　was　able　to　totter　about　the　house；　he　turned　his　hands　to　weaving　baskets　of　split　oak　and　mending　the　furniture　ruined　by　the　Yankees。　He　was　clever　at　whittling　and　Wade　was　constantly　by　his　side；　for　he　whittled　out　toys　for　him；　the　only　toys　the　little　boy　had。　With　Will　in　the　house；　everyone　felt　safe　in　leaving　Wade　and　the　two　babies　while　they　went　about　their　tasks；　for　he　could　care　for　them　as　deftly　as　Mammy　and　only　Melly　surpassed　him　at　soothing　the　screaming　black　and　white　babies。
　“You’ve　been　mighty　good　to　me；　Miss　Scarlett；”　he　said；　“and　me　a　stranger　and　nothin’　to　you　all。　I’ve　caused　you　a　heap　of　trouble　and　worry　and　if　it’s　all　the　same　to　you；　I’m　goin’　to　stay　here　and　help　you　all　with　the　work　till　I’ve　paid　you　back　some　for　your　trouble。　I　can’t　ever　pay　it　all；　‘cause　there　ain’t　no　payment　a　man　can　give　for　his　life。”
　So　he　stayed　and；　gradually；　unobtrusively；　a　large　part　of　the　burden　of　Tara　shifted　from　Scarlett’s　shoulders　to　the　bony　shoulders　of　Will　Benteen。
　
　It　was　September　and　time　to　pick　the　cotton。　Will　Benteen　sat　on　the　front　steps　at　Scarlett’s　feet　in　the　pleasant　sunshine　of　the。　early　autumn　afternoon　and　his　flat　voice　went　on　and　on　languidly　about　the　exorbitant　costs　of　ginning　the　cotton　at　the　new　gin　near　Fayetteville。　However；　he　had　learned　that　day　in　Fayetteville　that　he　could　cut　this　expense　a　fourth　by　lending　the　horse　and　wagon　for　two　weeks　to　the　gin　owner。　He　had　delayed　closing　the　bargain　until　he　discussed　it　with　Scarlett。
　She　looked　at　the　lank　figure　leaning　against　the　porch　column；　chewing　a　straw。　Undoubtedly；　as　Mammy　frequently　declared；　Will　was　something　the　Lord　had　provided　and　Scarlett　often　wondered　how　Tara　could　have　lived　through　the　last　few　months　without　him。　He　never　had　much　to　say；　never　displayed　any　energy；　never　seemed　to　take　much　interest　in　anything　that　went　on　about　him；　but　he　knew　everything　about　everybody　at　Tara。　And　he　did　things。　He　did　them　silently；　patiently　and　competently。　Though　he　had　only　one　leg；　he　could　work　faster　than　Pork。　And　he　could　get　work　out　of　Pork；　which　was；　to　Scarlett；　a　marvelous　thing。　When　the　cow　had　the　colic　and　the　horse　fell　ill　with　a　mysterious　ailment　which　threatened　to　remove　him　permanently　from　them；　Will　sat　up　nights　with　them　and　saved　them。　That　he　was　a　shrewd　trader　brought　him　Scarlett’s　respect；　for　he　could　ride　out　in　the　mornings　with　a　bushel　or　two　of　apples；　sweet　potatoes　and　other　vegetables　and　return　with　seeds；　lengths　of　cloth；　flour　and　other　necessities　which　she　knew　she　could　never　have　acquired；　good　trader　though　she　was。
　He　had　gradually　slipped　into　the　status　of　a　member　of　the　family　and　slept　on　a　cot　in　the　little　dressing　room　off　Gerald’s　room。　He　said　nothing　of　leaving　Tara；　and　Scarlett　was　careful　not　to　question　him；　fearful　that　he　might　leave　them。　Sometimes；　she　thought　that　if　he　were　anybody　and　had　any　gumption　he　would　go　home；　even　if　he　no　longer　had　a　home。　But　even　with　this　thought；　she　would　pray　fervently　that　he　would　remain　indefinitely。　It　was　so　convenient　to　have　a　man　about　the　house。
　She　thought；　too；　that　if　Carreen　had　the　sense　of　a　mouse　she　would　see　that　Will　cared　for　her。　Scarlett　would　have　been　eternally　grateful　to　Will；　had　he　asked　her　for　Carreen’s　hand。　Of　course；　before　the　war；　Will　would　certainly　not　have　been　an　eligible　suitor。　He　was　not　of　the　planter　class　at　all；　though　he　was　not　poor　white。　He　was　just　plain　Cracker；　a　small　farmer；　half…educated；　prone　to　grammatical　errors　and　ignorant　of　some　of　the　finer　manners　the　O’Haras　were　accustomed　to　in　gentlemen。　In　fact；　Scarlett　wondered　if　he　could　be　called　a　gentleman　at　all　and　decided　that　he　couldn’t。　Melanie　hotly　defended　him；　saying　that　anyone　who　had　Will’s　kind　heart　and　thoughtfulness　of　others　was　of　gentle　birth。　Scarlett　knew　that　Ellen　would　have　fainted　at　the　thought　of　a　daughter　of　hers　marrying　such　a　man；　but　now　Scarlett　had　been　by　necessity　forced　too　far　away　from　Ellen’s　teachings　to　let　that　worry　her。　Men　were　scarce；　girls　had　to　marry　someone　and　Tara　had　to　have　a　man。　But　Carreen；　deeper　and　deeper　immersed　in　her　prayer　book　and　every　day　losing　more　of　her　touch　with　the　world　of　realities；　treated　Will　as　gently　as　a　brother　and　took　him　as　much　for　granted　as　she　did　Pork。
　“If　Carreen　had　any　sense　of　gratitude　to　me　for　what　I’ve　done　for　her；　she’d　marry　him　and　not　let　him　get　away　from　here；”　Scarlett　thought　indignantly。　“But　no；　she　must　spend　her　time　mooning　about　a　silly　boy　who　probably　never　gave　her　a　serious　thought。”
　So　Will　remained　at　Tara；　for　what　reason　she　did　not　know　and　she　found　his　businesslike　man…to…man　attitude　with　her　both　pleasant　and　helpful。　He　was　gravely　deferential　to　the　vague　Gerald　but　it　was　to　Scarlett　that　he　turned　as　the　real　head　of　the　house。
　She　gave　her　approval　to　the　plan　of　hiring　out　the　horse　even　though　it　meant　the　family　would　be　without　any　means　of　transportation　temporarily。　Suellen　would　be　especially　grieved　at　this。　Her　greatest　joy　lay　in　going　to　Jonesboro　or　Fayetteville　with　Will　when　he　drove　over　on　business。　Adorned　in　the　assembled　best　of　the　family；　she　called　on　old　friends；　heard　all　the　gossip　of　the　County　and　felt　herself　again　Miss　O’Hara　of　Tara。　Suellen　never　missed　the　opportunity　to　leave　the　plantation　and　give　herself　airs　among　people　who　did　not　know　she　weeded　the　garden　and　made　beds。
　Miss　Fine　Airs　will　just　have　to　do　without　gadding　for　two　weeks；　thought　Scarlett；　and　we’ll　have　to　put　up　with　her　nagging　and　her　bawling。
　Melanie　joined　them　on　the　veranda；　the　baby　in　her　arms；　and　spreading　an　old　blanket　on　the　floor；　set　little　Beau　down　to　crawl。　Since　Ashley’s　letter　Melanie　had　divided　her　time　between　glowing；　singing　happiness　and　anxious　longing。　But　happy　or　depressed；　she　was　too　thin；　too　white。　She　did　her　share　of　the　work　uncomplainingly　but　she　was　always　ailing。　Old　Dr。　Fontaine　diagnosed　her　trouble　as　female　complaint　and　concurred　with　Dr。　Meade　in　saying　she　should　never　have　had　Beau。　And　he　said　frankly　that　another　baby　would　kill　her。
　“When　I　was　over　to　Fayetteville　today；”　said　Will；　“I　found　somethin’　right　cute　that　I　thought　would　interest　you　ladies　and　I　brought　it　home。”　He　fumbled　in　his　back　pants　pocket　and　brought　out　the　wallet　of　calico；　stiffened　with　bark；　which　Carreen　had　made　him。　From　it；　he　drew　a　Confederate　bill。
　“If　you　think　Confederate　money　is　cute；　Will；　I　certainly　don’t；”　said　Scarlett　shortly；　for　the　very　sight　of　Confederate　money　made　her　mad。　“We’ve　got　three　thousand　dollars　of　it　in　Pa’s　trunk　this　minute；　and　Mammy’s　after　me　to　let　her　paste　it　over　the　holes　in　the　attic　walls　so　the　draft　won’t　get　her。　And　I　think　I’ll　do　it。　Then　it’ll　be　good　for　something。”
　“　‘Imperious　Caesar；　dead　and　turned　to　clay；’　”　said　Melanie　with　a　sad　smile。　“Don’t　do　that；　Scarlett。　Keep　it　for　Wade。　He’ll　be　proud　of　it　some　day。”
　“Well；　I　don’t　know　nothin’　about　imperious　Caesar；”　said　Will；　patiently；　“but　what　I’ve　got　is