飘

　Federal　treasury。　But　whether　Frank　liked　it　or　not　Rhett　was　a　frequent　caller。
　Ostensibly　it　was　Miss　Pitty　he　came　to　see　and　she　had　no　better　sense　than　to　believe　it　and　give　herself　airs　over　his　visits。　But　Frank　had　an　uncomfortable　feeling　that　Miss　Pitty　was　not　the　attraction　which　brought　him。　Little　Wade　was　very　fond　of　him；　though　the　boy　was　shy　of　most　people；　and　even　called　him　“Uncle　Rhett；”　which　annoyed　Frank。　And　Frank　could　not　help　remembering　that　Rhett　had　squired　Scarlett　about　during　the　war　days　and　there　had　been　talk　about　them　then。　He　imagined　there　might　be　even　worse　talk　about　them　now。　None　of　his　friends　had　the　courage　to　mention　anything　of　this　sort　to　Frank；　for　all　their　outspoken　words　on　Scarlett’s　conduct　in　the　matter　of　the　mill。　But　he　could　not　help　noticing　that　he　and　Scarlett　were　less　frequently　invited　to　meals　and　parties　and　fewer　and　fewer　people　came　to　call　on　them。　Scarlett　disliked　most　of　her　neighbors　and　was　too　busy　with　her　mill　to　care　about　seeing　the　ones　she　did　like；　so　the　lack　of　calls　did　not　disturb　her。　But　Frank　felt　it　keenly。
　All　of　his　life；　Frank　had　been　under　the　domination　of　the　phrase　“What　will　the　neighbors　say？”　and　he　was　defenseless　against　the　shocks　of　his　wife’s　repeated　disregard　of　the　proprieties。　He　felt　that　everyone　disapproved　of　Scarlett　and　was　contemptuous　of　him　for　permitting　her　to　“unsex　herself。”　She　did　so　many　things　a　husband　should　not　permit；　according　to　his　views；　but　if　he　ordered　her　to　stop　them；　argued　or　even　criticized；　a　storm　broke　on　his　head。
　“My！　My！”　he　thought　helplessly。　“She　can　get　mad　quicker　and　stay　mad　longer　than　any　woman　I　ever　saw！”
　Even　at　the　times　when　things　were　most　pleasant；　it　was　amazing　how　completely　and　how　quickly　the　teasing；　affectionate　wife　who　hummed　to　herself　as　she　went　about　the　house　could　be　transformed　into　an　entirely　different　person。　He　had　only　to　say：　“Sugar；　if　I　were　you；　I　wouldn’t—”　and　the　tempest　would　break。
　Her　black　brows　rushed　together　to　meet　in　a　sharp　angle　over　her　nose　and　Frank　cowered；　almost　visibly。　She　had　the　temper　of　a　Tartar　and　the　rages　of　a　wild　cat　and；　at　such　times；　she　did　not　seem　to　care　what　she　said　or　how　much　it　hurt　Clouds　of　gloom　hung　over　the　house　on　such　occasions。　Frank　went　early　to　the　store　and　stayed　late。　Pitty　scrambled　into　her　bedroom　like　a　rabbit　panting　for　its　burrow。　Wade　and　Uncle　Peter　retired　to　the　carriage　house　and　Cookie　kept　to　her　kitchen　and　forbore　to　raise　her　voice　to　praise　the　Lord　in　song。　Only　Mammy　endured　Scarlett’s　temper　with　equanimity　and　Mammy　had　had　many　years　of　training　with　Gerald　O’Hara　and　his　explosions。
　Scarlett　did　not　mean　to　be　short　tempered　and　she　really　wanted　to　make　Frank　a　good　wife；　for　she　was　fond　of　him　and　grateful　for　his　help　in　saving　Tara。　But　he　did　try　her　patience　to　the　breaking　point　so　often　and　in　so　many　different　ways。
　She　could　never　respect　a　man　who　let　her　run　over　him　and　the　timid；　hesitant　attitude　he　displayed　in　any　unpleasant　situation；　with　her　or　with　others；　irritated　her　unbearably。　But　she　could　have　overlooked　these　things　and　even　been　happy；　now　that　some　of　her　money　problems　were　being　solved；　except　for　her　constantly　renewed　exasperation　growing　out　of　the　many　incidents　which　showed　that　Frank　was　neither　a　good　business　man　nor　did　he　want　her　to　be　a　good　business　man。
　As　she　expected；　he　had　refused　to　collect　the　unpaid　bills　until　she　prodded　him　into　it；　and　then　he　had　done　it　apologetically　and　half　heartedly。　That　experience　was　the　final　evidence　she　needed　to　show　her　that　the　Kennedy　family　would　never　have　more　than　a　bare　living；　unless　she　personally　made　the　money　she　was　determined　to　have。　She　knew　now　that　Frank　would　be　contented　to　dawdle　along　with　his　dirty　little　store　for　the　rest　of　his　life。　He　didn’t　seem　to　realize　what　a　slender　fingerhold　they　had　on　security　and　how　important　it　was　to　make　more　money　in　these　troublous　times　when　money　was　the　only　protection　against　fresh　calamities。
　Frank　might　have　been　a　successful　business　man　in　the　easy　days　before　the　war　but　he　was　so　annoyingly　old…fashioned；　she　thought；　and　so　stubborn　about　wanting　to　do　things　in　the　old　ways；　when　the　old　ways　and　the　old　days　were　gone。　He　was　utterly　lacking　in　the　aggressiveness　needed　in　these　new　bitter　times。　Well；　she　had　the　aggressiveness　and　she　intended　to　use　it；　whether　Frank　liked　it　or　not。　They　needed　money　and　she　was　making　money　and　it　was　hard　work。　The　very　least　Frank　could　do；　in　her　opinion；　was　not　to　interfere　with　her　plans　which　were　getting　results。
　With　her　inexperience；　operating　the　new　mill　was　no　easy　job　and　competition　was　keener　now　than　it　had　been　at　first；　so　she　was　usually　tired　and　worried　and　cross　when　she　came　home　at　nights。　And　when　Frank　would　cough　apologetically　and　say：　“Sugar；　I　wouldn’t　do　this；”　or　“I　wouldn’t　do　that；　Sugar；　if　I　were　you；”　it　was　all　she　could　do　to　restrain　herself　from　flying　into　a　rage；　and　frequently　she　did　not　restrain　herself。　If　he　didn’t　have　the　gumption　to　get　out　and　make　some　money；　why　was　he　always　finding　fault　with　her？　And　the　things　he　nagged　her　about　were　so　silly！　What　difference　did　it　make　in　times　like　these　if　she　was　being　unwomanly？　Especially　when　her　unwomanly　sawmill　was　bringing　in　money　they　needed　so　badly；　she　and　the　family　and　Tara；　and　Frank　too。
　Frank　wanted　rest　and　quiet。　The　war　in　which　he　had　served　so　conscientiously　had　wrecked　his　health；　cost　him　his　fortune　and　made　him　an　old　man。　He　regretted　none　of　these　things　and　after　four　years　of　war；　all　he　asked　of　life　was　peace　and　kindliness；　loving　faces　about　him　and　the　approval　of　friends。　He　soon　found　that　domestic　peace　had　its　price；　and　that　price　was　letting　Scarlett　have　her　own　way；　no　matter　what　she　might　wish　to　do。　So；　because　he　was　tired；　he　bought　peace　at　her　own　terms。　Sometimes；　he　thought　it　was　worth　it　to　have　her　smiling　when　she　opened　the　front　door　in　the　cold　twilights；　kissing　him　on　the　ear　or　the　nose　or　some　other　inappropriate　place；　to　feel　her　head　snuggling　drowsily　on　his　shoulder　at　night　under　warm　quilts。　Home　life　could　be　so　pleasant　when　Scarlett　was　having　her　own　way。　But　the　peace　he　gained　was　hollow；　only　an　outward　semblance；　for　he　had　purchased　it　at　the　cost　of　everything　he　held　to　be　right　in　married　life。
　“A　woman　ought　to　pay　more　attention　to　her　home　and　her　family　and　not　be　gadding　about　like　a　man；”　he　thought。　“Now；　if　she　just　had　a　baby—”
　He　smiled　when　he　thought　of　a　baby　and　he　thought　of　a　baby　very　often。　Scarlett　had　been　most　outspoken　about　not　wanting　a　child；　but　then　babies　seldom　waited　to　be　invited。　Frank　knew　that　many　women　said　they　didn’t　want　babies　but　that　was　all　foolishness　and　fear。　If　Scarlett　had　a　baby；　she　would　love　it　and　be　content　to　stay　home　and　tend　it　like　other　women。　Then　she　would　be　forced　to　sell　the　mill　and　his　problems　would　be　ended。　All　women　needed　babies　to　make　them　completely　happy　and　Frank　knew　that　Scarlett　was　not　happy。　Ignorant　as　he　was　of　women；　he　was　not　so　blind　that　he　could　not　see　she　was　unhappy　at　times。
　Sometimes　he　awoke　at　night　and　heard　the　soft　sound　of　tears　muffled　in　the　pillow。　The　first　time　he　had　waked　to　feel　the　bed　shaking　with　her　sobbing；　he　had　questioned；　in　alarm：　“Sugar；　what　is　it？”　and　had　been　rebuked　by　a　passionate　cry：　“Oh；　let　me　alone！”
　Yes；　a　baby　would　make　her　happy　and　would　take　her　mind　off　things　she　had　no　business　fooling　with。　Sometimes　Frank　sighed；　thinking　he　had　caught　a　tropic　bird；　all　flame　and　jewel　color；　when　a　wren　would　have　served　him　just　as　well。　In　fact；　much　better。
　
CHAPTER　XXXVII
　IT　WAS　on　a　wild　wet　night　in　April　that　Tony　Fontaine　rode　in　from　Jonesboro　on　a　lathered　horse　that　was　half　dead　from　exhaustion　and　came　knocking　at　their　door；　rousing　her　and　Frank　from　sleep　with　their　hearts　in　their　throats。　Then　for　the　second　time　in　four　months；　Scarlett　was　made　to　feel　acutely　what　Reconstruction　in　an　its　implications　meant；　made　to　understand　more　completely　what　was　in　Will’s　mind　when　he　said　“Our　troubles　have　just　begun；”　to　know　that　the　bleak　words　of　Ashley；　spoken　in　the　wind…swept　orchard　of　Tara；　were　true：　“This　that’s　facing　all　of　us　is　worse　than　war—worse　than　prison—worse　than　death。”
　The　first　time　she　had　come　face　to　face　with　Reconstruction　was　when　she　teamed　that　Jonas　Wilkerson　with　the　aid　of　the　Yankees　could　evict　her　from　Tara。　But　Tony’s　advent　brought　it　all　home　to　her　in　a　far　more　terrifying　manner。　Tony　came　in　the　dark　and　the　lashing　rain　and　in　a　few　minutes　he　was　gone　back　into　the　night　forever；　but　in　the　brief　interval　between　he　raised　the　curtain　on　a　scene　of　new　horror；　a　curtain　that　she　felt　hopelessly　would　never　be　lowered　again。
　That　stormy　night　when　the　knocker　hammered　on　the　door　with　such　hurried　urgency；　she　stood　on　the　landing；　clutching　her　wrapper　to　her　and；　looking　down　into　the　hall　below；　had　one　glimpse　of　Tony’s　swarthy　saturnine　face　before　he　leaned　forward　and　blew　out　the　candle