飘

　took　Stuart　from　India　and　she　didn’t　want　him。　And　today　she　tried　to　take　Mr。　Kennedy　and　Ashley　and　Charles—”
　“I　must　get　home！”　thought　Scarlett　“I　must　get　home！”
　If　she　could　only　be　transferred　by　magic　to　Tara　and　to　safety。　If　she　could　only　be　with　Ellen；　just　to　see　her；　to　hold　onto　her　skirt；　to　cry　and　pour　out　the　whole　story　in　her　lap。　If　she　had　to　listen　to　another　word；　she’d　rush　in　and　pull　out　Honey’s　straggly　pale　hair　in　big　handfuls　and　spit　on　Melanie　Hamilton　to　show　her　just　what　she　thought　of　her　charity。　But　she’d　already　acted　common　enough　today；　enough　like　white　trash—that　was　where　all　her　trouble　lay。
　She　pressed　her　hands　hard　against　her　skirts；　so　they　would　not　rustle　and　backed　out　as　stealthily　as　an　animal。　Home；　she　thought；　as　she　sped　down　the　hall；　past　the　closed　doors　and　still　rooms；　I　must　go　home。
　She　was　already　on　the　front　porch　when　a　new　thought　brought　her　up　sharply—she　couldn’t　go　home！　She　couldn’t　run　away！　She　would　have　to　see　it　through；　bear　all　the　malice　of　the　girls　and　her　own　humiliation　and　heartbreak。　To　run　away　would　only　give　them　more　ammunition。
　She　pounded　her　clenched　fist　against　the　tall　white　pillar　beside　her；　and　she　wished　that　she　were　Samson；　so　that　she　could　pull　down　all　of　Twelve　Oaks　and　destroy　every　person　in　it。　She’d　make　them　sorry。　She’d　show　them。　She　didn’t　quite　see　how　she’d　show　them；　but　she’d　do　it　all　the　same。　She’d　hurt　them　worse　than　they　hurt　her。
　For　the　moment；　Ashley　as　Ashley　was　forgotten。　He　was　not　the　tall　drowsy　boy　she　loved　but　part　and　parcel　of　the　Wilkeses；　Twelve　Oaks；　the　County—and　she　hated　them　all　because　they　laughed。　Vanity　was　stronger　than　love　at　sixteen　and　there　was　no　room　in　her　hot　heart　now　for　anything　but　hate。
　“I　won’t　go　home；”　she　thought。　“I’ll　stay　here　and　I’ll　make　them　sorry。　And　I’ll　never　tell　Mother。　No；　I’ll　never　tell　anybody。”　She　braced　herself　to　go　back　into　the　house；　to　reclimb　the　stairs　and　go　into　another　bedroom。
　As　she　turned；　she　saw　Charles　coming　into　the　house　from　the　other　end　of　the　long　hall。　When　he　saw　her；　he　hurried　toward　her。　His　hair　was　tousled　and　his　face　near　geranium　with　excitement。
　“Do　you　know　what’s　happened？”　he　cried；　even　before　he　reached　her。　“Have　you　heard？　Paul　Wilson　just　rode　over　from　Jonesboro　with　the　news！”
　He　paused；　breathless；　as　he　came　up　to　her。　She　said　nothing　and　only　stared　at　him。
　“Mr。　Lincoln　has　called　for　men；　soldiers—I　mean　volunteers—seventy…five　thousand　of　them！”
　Mr。　Lincoln　again！　Didn’t　men　ever　think　about　anything　that　really　mattered？　Here　was　this　fool　expecting　her　to　be　excited　about　Mr。　Lincoln’s　didoes　when　her　heart　was　broken　and　her　reputation　as　good　as　ruined。
　Charles　stared　at　her。　Her　face　was　paper　white　and　her　narrow　eyes　blazing　like　emeralds。　He　had　never　seen　such　fire　in　any　girl’s　face；　such　a　glow　in　anyone’s　eyes。
　“I’m　so　clumsy；”　he　said。　“I　should　have　told　you　more　gently。　I　forgot　how　delicate　ladies　are。　I’m　sorry　I’ve　upset　you　so。　You　don’t　feel　faint；　do　you？　Can　I　get　you　a　glass　of　water？”
　“No；”　she　said；　and　managed　a　crooked　smile。
　“Shall　we　go　sit　on　the　bench？”　he　asked；　taking　her　arm。
　She　nodded　and　he　carefully　handed　her　down　the　front　steps　and　led　her　across　the　grass　to　the　iron　bench　beneath　the　largest　oak　in　the　front　yard。　How　fragile　and　tender　women　are；　he　thought；　the　mere　mention　of　war　and　harshness　makes　them　faint。　The　idea　made　him　feel　very　masculine　and　he　was　doubly　gentle　as　he　seated　her。　She　looked　so　strangely；　and　there　was　a　wild　beauty　about　her　white　face　that　set　his　heart　leaping。　Could　it　be　that　she　was　distressed　by　the　thought　that　he　might　go　to　the　war？　No；　that　was　too　conceited　for　belief。　But　why　did　she　look　at　him　so　oddly？　And　why　did　her　hands　shake　as　they　fingered　her　lace　handkerchief：　And　her　thick　sooty　lashes—they　were　fluttering　just　like　the　eyes　of　girls　in　romances　he　had　read；　fluttering　with　timidity　and　love。
　He　cleared　his　throat　three　times　to　speak　and　failed　each　time。　He　dropped　his　eyes　because　her　own　green　ones　met　his　so　piercingly；　almost　as　if　she　were　not　seeing　him。
　“He　has　a　lot　of　money；”　she　was　thinking　swiftly；　as　a　thought　and　a　plan　went　through　her　brain。　“And　he　hasn’t　any　parents　to　bother　me　and　he　lives　in　Atlanta。　And　if　I　married　him　right　away；　it　would　show　Ashley　that　I　didn’t　care　a　rap—that　I　was　only　flirting　with　him。　And　it　would　just　kill　Honey。　She’d　never；　never　catch　another　beau　and　everybody’d　laugh　fit　to　die　at　her。　And　it　would　hurt　Melanie；　because　she　loves　Charles　so　much。　And　it　would　hurt　Stu　and　Brent—”　She　didn’t　quite　know　why　she　wanted　to　hurt　them；　except　that　they　had　catty　sisters。　“And　they’d　all　be　sorry　when　I　came　back　here　to　visit　in　a　fine　carriage　and　with　lots　of　pretty　clothes　and　a　house　of　my　own。　And　they　would　never；　never　laugh　at　me。”
　“Of　course；　it　will　mean　fighting；”　said　Charles；　after　several　more　embarrassed　attempts。　“But　don’t　you　fret；　Miss　Scarlett；　it’ll　be　over　in　a　month　and　we’ll　have　them　howling。　Yes；　sir！　Howling！　I　wouldn’t　miss　it　for　anything。　I’m　afraid　there　won’t　be　much　of　a　ball　tonight；　because　the　Troop　is　going　to　meet　at　Jonesboro。　The　Tarleton　boys　have　gone　to　spread　the　news。　I　know　the　ladies　will　be　sorry。”
　She　said；　“Oh；”　for　want　of　anything　better；　but　it　sufficed。
　Coolness　was　beginning　to　come　back　to　her　and　her　mind　was　collecting　itself。　A　frost　lay　over　all　her　emotions　and　she　thought　that　she　would　never　feel　anything　warmly　again。　Why　not　take　this　pretty；　flushed　boy？　He　was　as　good　as　anyone　else　and　she　didn’t　care。　No；　she　could　never　care　about　anything　again；　not　if　she　lived　to　be　ninety。
　“I　can’t　decide　now　whether　to　go　with　Mr。　Wade　Hampton’s　South　Carolina　Legion　or　with　the　Atlanta　Gate　City　Guard。”
　She　said；　“Oh；”　again　and　their　eyes　met　and　the　fluttering　lashes　were　his　undoing。
　“Will　you　wait　for　me；　Miss　Scarlett？　It—it　would　be　Heaven　just　knowing　that　you　were　waiting　for　me　until　after　we　licked　them！”　He　hung　breathless　on　her　words；　watching　the　way　her　lips　curled　up　at　the　corners；　noting　for　the　first　time　the　shadows　about　these　corners　and　thinking　what　it　would　mean　to　kiss　them。　Her　hand；　with　palm　clammy　with　perspiration；　slid　into　his。
　“I　wouldn’t　want　to　wait；”　she　said　and　her　eyes　were　veiled。
　He　sat　clutching　her　hand；　his　mouth　wide　open。　Watching　him　from　under　her　lashes；　Scarlett　thought　detachedly　that　he　looked　like　a　gigged　frog。　He　stuttered　several　times；　closed　his　mouth　and　opened　it　again；　and　again　became；　geranium　colored。
　“Can　you　possibly　love　me？”
　She　said　nothing　but　looked　down　into　her　lap；　and　Charles　was　thrown　into　new　states　of　ecstasy　and　embarrassment。　Perhaps　a　man　should　not　ask　a　girl　such　a　question。　Perhaps　it　would　be　unmaidenly　for　her　to　answer　it。　Having　never　possessed　the　courage　to　get　himself　into　such　a　situation　before；　Charles　was　at　a　loss　as　to　how　to　act。　He　wanted　to　shout　and　to　sing　and　to　kiss　her　and　to　caper　about　the　lawn　and　then　run　tell　everyone；　black　and　white；　that　she　loved　him。　But　he　only　squeezed　her　hand　until　he　drove　her　rings　into　the　flesh。
　“You　will　marry　me　soon；　Miss　Scarlett？”
　“Um；”　she　said；　fingering　a　fold　of　her　dress。
　“Shall　we　make　it　a　double　wedding　with　Mel—”
　“No；”　she　said　quickly；　her　eyes　glinting　up　at　him　ominously。　Charles　knew　again　that　he　had　made　an　error。　Of　course；　a　girl　wanted　her　own　wedding—not　shared　glory。　How　kind　she　was　to　overlook　his　blunderings。　If　it　were　only　dark　and　he　had　the　courage　of　shadows　and　could　kiss　her　hand　and　say　the　things　he　longed　to　say。
　“When　may　I　speak　to　your　father？”
　“The　sooner　the　better；”　she　said；　hoping　that　perhaps　he　would　release　the　crushing　pressure　on　her　rings　before　she　had　to　ask　him　to　do　it。
　He　leaped　up　and　for　a　moment　she　thought　he　was　going　to　cut　a　caper；　before　dignity　claimed　him。　He　looked　down　at　her　radiantly；　his　whole　clean　simple　heart　in　his　eyes。　She　had　never　had　anyone　look　at　her　thus　before　and　would　never　have　it　from　any　other　man；　but　in　her　queer　detachment　she　only　thought　that　he　looked　like　a　calf。
　“I’ll　go　now　and　find　your　father；”　he　said；　smiling　all　over　his　face。　“I　can’t　wait。　Will　you　excuse　me—dear？”　The　endearment　came　hard　but　having　said　it　once；　he　repeated　it　again　with　pleasure。
　“Yes；”　she　said。　“I’ll　wait　here。　It’s　so　cool　and　nice　here。”
　He　went　off　across　the　lawn　and　disappeared　around　the　house；　and　she　was　alone　under　the　rustling　oak。　From　the　stables；　men　were　streaming　out　on　horseback；　negro　servants　riding　hard　behind　their　masters。　The　Munroe　boys　tore　past　waving　their　hats；　and　the　Fontaines　and　Calverts　went　down　the　road　yelling。　The　four　Tarletons　charged　across　the　lawn　by　her　and　Brent　shouted：　“Mother’s　going　to　give　us　the　horses！　Yee…aay…ee！”　Turf　flew　and　they　were　gone；　leaving　her　alone　again。
　The　white　house　reared　its　tall　columns　before　her；　seeming　to　withdraw　with　dignified　aloofness　from　her。　It　would　ne