飘

　“She’s　had　a　miscarriage。”
　“A—a…mis—but；　Rhett；　she—”　Scarlett　floundered。　This　information　on　top　of　the　horror　of　his　announcement　took　her　breath　away。
　“You　did　not　know　she　was　going　to　have　a　baby？”
　She　could　not　even　shake　her　head。
　“Ah；　well。　I　suppose　not。　I　don’t　think　she　told　anyone。　She　wanted　it　to　be　a　surprise。　But　I　knew。”
　“You　knew？　But　surely　she　didn’t　tell　you！”
　She　didn’t　have　to　tell　me。　I　knew。　She’s　been　so—happy　these　last　two　months　I　knew　it　couldn’t　mean　anything　else。”
　“But　Rhett；　the　doctor　said　it　would　kill　her　to　have　another　baby！”
　“It　has　killed　her；”　said　Rhett。　And　to　the　coachman：　“For　God’s　sake；　can’t　you　drive　faster？”
　“But；　Rhett；　she　can’t　be　dying！　I—I　didn’t　and　I—”
　“She　hasn’t　your　strength。　She’s　never　had　any　strength。　She’s　never　had　anything　but　heart。”
　The　carriage　rocked　to　a　standstill　in　front　of　the　flat　little　house　and　Rhett　handed　her　out。　Trembling；　frightened；　a　sudden　feeling　of　loneliness　upon　her；　she　clasped　his　arm。
　“You’re　coming　in；　Rhett？”
　“No；”　he　said　and　got　back　into　the　carriage。
　She　flew　up　the　front　steps；　across　the　porch　and　threw　open　the　door。　There；　in　the　yellow　lamplight　were　Ashley；　Aunt　Pitty　and　India。　Scarlett　thought：　“What’s　India　doing　here？　Melanie　told　her　never　to　set　foot　in　this　house　again。”　The　three　rose　at　the　sight　of　her；　Aunt　Pitty　biting　her　trembling　lips　to　still　them；　India　staring　at　her；　grief　stricken　and　without　hate。　Ashley　looked　dull　as　a　sleepwalker　and；　as　he　came　to　her　and　put　his　hand　upon　her　arm；　he　spoke　like　a　sleepwalker。
　“She　asked　for　you；”　he　said。　“She　asked　for　you。”
　“Can　I　see　her　now？”　She　turned　toward　the　closed　door　of　Melanie’s　room。
　“No。　Dr。　Meade　is　in　there　now。　I’m　glad　you’ve　come；　Scarlett”
　“I　came　as　quickly　as　I　could。”　Scarlett　shed　her　bonnet　and　her　cloak。　“The　train—　She　isn’t　really—　Tell　me；　she’s　better；　isn’t　she；　Ashley？　Speak　to　me！　Don’t　look　like　that！　She　isn’t　really—”
　“She　kept　asking　for　you；”　said　Ashley　and　looked　her　in　the　eyes。　And；　in　his　eyes　she　saw　the　answer　to　her　question。　For　a　moment；　her　heart　stood　still　and　then　a　queer　fear；　stronger　than　anxiety；　stronger　than　grief；　began　to　beat　in　her　breast。　It　can’t　be　true；　she　thought　vehemently；　trying　to　push　back　the　fear。　Doctors　make　mistakes。　I　won’t　think　it’s　true。　I　can’t　let　myself　think　it’s　true。　I’ll　scream　if　I　do。　I　must　think　of　something　else。
　“I　don’t　believe　it！”　she　cried　stormily；　looking　into　the　three　drawn　faces　as　though　defying　them　to　contradict　her。　“And　why　didn’t　Melanie　tell　me？　I’d　never　have　gone　to　Marietta　if　I’d　known！”
　Ashley’s　eyes　awoke　and　were　tormented。
　“She　didn’t　tell　anyone；　Scarlett；　especially　not　you。　She　was　afraid　you’d　scold　her　if　you　knew。　She　wanted　to　wait　three—till　she　thought　it　safe　and　sure　and　then　surprise　you　all　and　laugh　and　say　how　wrong　the　doctors　had　been。　And　she　was　so　happy。　You　know　how　she　was　about　babies—how　much　she’s　wanted　a　little　girl。　And　everything　went　so　well　until—and　then　for　no　reason　at　all—”
　The　door　of　Melanie’s　room　opened　quietly　and　Dr。　Meade　came　out　into　the　hall；　shutting　the　door　behind　him。　He　stood　for　a　moment；　his　gray　beard　sunk　on　his　chest；　and　looked　at　the　suddenly　frozen　four。　His　gaze　fell　last　on　Scarlett。　As　he　came　toward　her；　she　saw　that　there　was　grief　in　his　eyes　and　also　dislike　and　contempt　that　flooded　her　frightened　heart　with　guilt。
　“So　you　finally　got　here；”　he　said。
　Before　she　could　answer；　Ashley　started　toward　the　closed　door。
　“Not　you；　yet；”　said　the　doctor。　“She　wants　to　speak　to　Scarlett。”
　“Doctor；”　said　India；　putting　a　hand　on　his　sleeve。　Though　her　voice　was　toneless；　it　plead　more　loudly　than　words。　“Let　me　see　her　for　a　moment。　I’ve　been　here　since　this　morning；　waiting；　but　she—　Let　me　see　her　for　a　moment。　I　want　to　tell　her—must　tell　her—that　I　was　wrong　about—something。”
　She　did　not　look　at　Ashley　or　Scarlett　as　she　spoke；　but　Dr。　Meade　allowed　his　cold　glance　to　fall　on　Scarlett。
　“I’ll　see；　Miss　India；”　he　said　briefly。　“But　only　if　you’ll　give　me　your　word　not　to　use　up　her　strength　telling　her　you　were　wrong。　She　knows　you　were　wrong　and　it　will　only　worry　her　to　hear　you　apologize。”
　Pitty　began；　timidly：　“Please；　Dr。　Meade—”
　“Miss　Pitty；　you　know　you’d　scream　and　faint。”
　Pitty　drew　up　her　stout　little　body　and　gave　the　doctor　glance　for　glance。　Her　eyes　were　dry　and　there　was　dignity　in　every　curve。
　“Well；　all　right；　honey；　a　little　later；”　said　the　doctor；　more　kindly。　“Come；　Scarlett。”
　They　tiptoed　down　the　hall　to　the　closed　door　and　the　doctor　put　his　hand　on　Scarlett’s　shoulder　in　a　hard　grip。
　“Now；　Miss；”　he　whispered　briefly；　“no　hysterics　and　no　deathbed　confessions　from　you　or；　before　God；　I　will　wring　your　neck！　Don’t　give　me　any　of　your　innocent　stares。　You　know　what　I　mean。　Miss　Melly　is　going　to　die　easily　and　you　aren’t　going　to　ease　your　own　conscience　by　telling　her　anything　about　Ashley。　I’ve　never　harmed　a　woman　yet；　but　if　you　say　anything　now—you’ll　answer　to　me。”
　He　opened　the　door　before　she　could　answer；　pushed　her　into　the　room　and　closed　the　door　behind　her。　The　little　room；　cheaply　furnished　in　black　walnut；　was　in　semi…darkness；　the　lamp　shaded　with　a　newspaper。　It　was　as　small　and　prim　a　room　as　a　schoolgirl’s；　the　narrow　little　low…backed　bed；　the　plain　net　curtains　looped　back；　the　clean　faded　rag　rugs　on　the　floor；　were　so　different　from　the　lavishness　of　Scarlett’s　own　bedroom　with　its　towering　carved　furniture；　pink　brocade　draperies　and　rose…strewn　carpet。
　Melanie　lay　in　the　bed；　her　figure　under　the　counterpane　shrunken　and　flat　like　a　little　girl’s。　Two　black　braids　fell　on　either　side　of　her　face　and　her　closed　eyes　were　sunken　in　twin　purple　circles。　At　the　sight　of　her　Scarlett　stood　transfixed；　leaning　against　the　door。　Despite　the　gloom　of　the　room；　she　could　see　that　Melanie’s　face　was　of　a　waxy　yellow　color。　It　was　drained　of　life’s　blood　and　there　was　a　pinched　look　about　the　nose。　Until　that　moment；　Scarlett　had　hoped　Dr。　Meade　was　mistaken。　But　now　she　knew。　In　the　hospitals　during　the　war　she　had　seen　too　many　faces　wearing　this　pinched　look　not　to　know　what　it　inevitably　presaged。
　Melanie　was　dying；　but　for　a　moment　Scarlett’s　mind　refused　to　take　it　in。　Melanie　could　not　die。　It　was　impossible　for　her　to　die。　God　wouldn’t　let　her　die　when　she；　Scarlett；　needed　her　so　much。　Never　before　had　it　occurred　to　her　that　she　needed　Melanie。　But　now；　the　truth　surged　in；　down　to　the　deepest　recesses　of　her　soul。　She　had　relied　on　Melanie；　even　as　she　had　relied　upon　herself；　and　she　had　never　known　it。　Now；　Melanie　was　dying　and　Scarlett　knew　she　could　not　get　along　without　her。　Now；　as　she　tiptoed　across　the　room　toward　the　quiet　figure；　panic　clutching　at　her　heart；　she　knew　that　Melanie　had　been　her　sword　and　her　shield；　her　comfort　and　her　strength。
　“I　must　hold　her！　I　can’t　let　her　get　away！”　she　thought　and　sank　beside　the　bed　with　a　rustle　of　skirts。　Hastily　she　grasped　the　limp　hand　lying　on　the　coverlet　and　was　frightened　anew　by　its　chill。
　“It’s　me；　Melly；”　she　said。
　Melanie’s　eyes　opened　a　slit　and　then；　as　if　having　satisfied　herself　that　it　was　really　Scarlett；　she　closed　them　again。　After　a　pause　she　drew　a　breath　and　whispered：
　“Promise　me？”
　“Oh；　anything！”
　“Beau—look　after　him。”
　Scarlett　could　only　nod；　a　strangled　feeling　in　her　throat；　and　she　gently　pressed　the　hand　she　held　by　way　of　assent。
　“I　give　him　to　you。”　There　was　the　faintest　trace　of　a　smile。　“I　gave　him　to　you；　once　before—‘member？—before　he　was　born。”
　Did　she　remember？　Could　she　ever　forget　that　time？　Almost　as　clearly　as　if　that　dreadful　day　had　returned；　she　could　feel　the　stifling　heat　of　the　September　noon；　remembering　her　terror　of　the　Yankees；　hear　the　tramp　of　the　retreating　troops；　recall　Melanie’s　voice　begging　her　to　take　the　baby　should　she　die—remember；　too；　how　she　had　hated　Melanie　that　day　and　hoped　that　she　would　die。
　“I’ve　killed　her；”　she　thought；　in　superstitious　agony。　“I　wished　so　often　she　would　die　and　God　heard　me　and　is　punishing　me。”
　“Oh；　Melly；　don’t　talk　like　that！　You　know　you’ll　pull　through　this—”
　“No。　Promise。”
　Scarlett　gulped。
　“You　know　I　promise。　I’ll　treat　him　like　he　was　my　own　boy。”
　“College？”　asked　Melanie’s　fault　flat　voice。
　“Oh；　yes！　The　university　and　Harvard　and　Europe　and　anything　he　wants—and—and—a　pony—and　music　lessons—　Oh；　please；　Melly；　do　try！　Do　make　an　effort！”
　The　silence　fell　again　and　on　Melanie’s　face　there　were　signs　of　a　struggle　to　gather　strength　to　speak。
　“Ashley；”　she　said。　“Ashley　and　you—”　Her　voice　faltered　into　stillness。
　At　the　mention　of　Ashley’s　name；　Scarlett’s　heart　stood　still；　cold　as　granite　within　her。　Melanie　had　known　all　the　time。　Scarlett　dropped　her　head　on　the　coverlet　and　a　sob　that　would　not　rise　caught　her　throat　with　a　cruel　hand。　Melanie　knew。　Scarlett　was　beyond　shame　now；　beyond　any　feeling　save　a　wild　remorse　tha