飘

　of　parched　corn　and　dried　sweet　potatoes　that　passed　for　coffee；　she　went　out　to　join　the　girls。
　She　was　sick　of　all　this　nursing。　This　very　day　she　would　tell　Mrs。　Merriwether　that　Ellen　had　written　her　to　come　home　for　a　visit。　Much　good　this　did　her；　for　that　worthy　matron；　her　sleeves　rolled　up；　her　stout　figure　swathed　in　a　large　apron；　gave　her　one　sharp　look　and　said：　“Don’t　let　me　hear　any　more　such　foolishness；　Scarlett　Hamilton。　I’ll　write　your　mother　today　and　tell　her　how　much　we　need　you；　and　I’m　sure　she’ll　understand　and　let　you　stay。　Now；　put　on　your　apron　and　trot　over　to　Dr。　Meade。　He　needs　someone　to　help　with　the　dressings。”
　“Oh；　God；”　thought　Scarlett　drearily；　“that’s　just　the　trouble。　Mother　will　make　me　stay　here　and　I　shall　die　if　I　have　to　smell　these　stinks　any　longer！　I　wish　I　was　an　old　lady　so　I　could　bully　the　young　ones；　instead　of　getting　bullied—and　tell　old　cats　like　Mrs。　Merriwether　to　go　to　Halifax！”
　Yes；　she　was　sick　of　the　hospital；　the　foul　smells；　the　lice；　the　aching；　unwashed　bodies。　If　there　had　ever　been　any　novelty　and　romance　about　nursing；　that　had　worn　off　a　year　ago。　Besides；　these　men　wounded　in　the　retreat　were　not　so　attractive　as　the　earlier　ones　had　been。　They　didn’t　show　the　slightest　interest　in　her　and　they　had　very　little　to　say　beyond：　“How’s　the　fightin’　goin’？　What’s　Old　Joe　doin’　now？　Mighty　clever　fellow。　Old　Joe。”　She　didn’t　think　Old　Joe　a　mighty　clever　fellow。　All　he　had　done　was　let　the　Yankees　penetrate　eighty…eight　miles　into　Georgia。　No；　they　were　not　an　attractive　lot。　Moreover；　many　of　them　were　dying；　dying　swiftly；　silently；　having　little　strength　left　to　combat　the　blood　poisoning；　gangrene；　typhoid　and　pneumonia　which　had　set　in　before　they　could　reach　Atlanta　and　a　doctor。
　The　day　was　hot　and　the　flies　came　in　the　open　windows　in　swarms；　fat　lazy　flies　that　broke　the　spirits　of　the　men　as　pain　could　not。　The　tide　of　smells　and　pain　rose　and　rose　about　her。　Perspiration　soaked　through　her　freshly　starched　dress　as　she　followed　Dr。　Meade　about；　a　basin　in　her　hand。
　Oh；　the　nausea　of　standing　by　the　doctor；　trying　not　to　vomit　when　his　bright　knife　cut　into　mortifying　flesh！　And　oh；　the　horror　of　hearing　the　screams　from　the　operating　ward　where　amputations　were　going　on！　And　the　sick；　helpless　sense　of　pity　at　the　sight　of　tense；　white　faces　of　mangled　men　waiting　for　the　doctor　to　get　to　them；　men　whose　ears　were　filled　with　screams；　men　waiting　for　the　dreadful　words：　“I’m　sorry；　my　boy；　but　that　hand　will　have　to　come　off。　Yes；　yes；　I　know；　but　look；　see　those　red　streaks？　It’ll　have　to　come　off。”
　Chloroform　was　so　scarce　now　it　was　used　only　for　the　worst　amputations　and　opium　was　a　precious　thing；　used　only　to　ease　the　dying　out　of　life；　not　the　living　out　of　pain。　There　was　no　quinine　and　no　iodine　at　all。　Yes；　Scarlett　was　sick　of　it　all；　and　that　morning　she　wished　that　she；　like　Melanie；　had　the　excuse　of　pregnancy　to　offer。　That　was　about　the　only　excuse　that　was　socially　acceptable　for　not　nursing　these　days。
　When　noon　came；　she　put　off　her　apron　and　sneaked　away　from　the　hospital　while　Mrs。　Merriwether　was　busy　writing　a　letter　for　a　gangling；　illiterate　mountaineer。　Scarlett　felt　that　she　could　stand　it　no　longer。　It　was　an　imposition　on　her　and　she　knew　that　when　the　wounded　came　in　on　the　noon　train　there　would　be　enough　work　to　keep　her　busy　until　night…fall—and　probably　without　anything　to　eat
　She　went　hastily　up　the　two　short　blocks　to　Peachtree　Street　breathing　the　unfouled　air　in　as　deep　gulps　as　her　tightly　laced　corset　would　permit。　She　was　standing　on　the　corner；　uncertain　as　to　what　she　would　do　next；　ashamed　to　go　home　to　Aunt　Pitty’s　but　determined　not　to　go　back　to　the　hospital；　when　Rhett　Butler　drove　by。
　“You　look　like　the　ragpicker’s　child；”　he　observed；　his　eyes　taking　in　the　mended　lavender　calico；　streaked　with　perspiration　and　splotched　here　and　there　with　water　which　had　slopped　from　the　basin。　Scarlett　was　furious　with　embarrassment　and　indignation。　Why　did　he　always　notice　women’s　clothing　and　why　was　he　so　rude　as　to　remark　upon　her　present　untidiness？
　“I　don’t　want　to　hear　a　word　out　of　you。　You　get　out　and　help　me　in　and　drive　me　somewhere　where　nobody　will　see　me。　I　won’t　go　back　to　the　hospital　if　they　hang　me！　My　goodness；　I　didn’t　start　this　war　and　I　don’t　see　any　reason　why　I　should　be　worked　to　death　and—”
　“A　traitor　to　Our　Glorious　Cause！”
　The　pot’s　calling　the　kettle　black。　You　help　me　in。　I　don’t　care　where　you　were　going。　You’re　going　to　take　me　riding　now。”
　He　swung　himself　out　of　the　carriage　to　the　ground　and　she　suddenly　thought　how　nice　it　was　to　see　a　man　who　was　whole；　who　was　not　minus　eyes　or　limbs；　or　white　with　pain　or　yellow　with　malaria；　and　who　looked　well　fed　and　healthy。　He　was　so　well　dressed　too。　His　coat　and　trousers　were　actually　of　the　same　material　and　they　fitted　him；　instead　of　hanging　in　folds　or　being　almost　too　tight　for　movement。　And　they　were　new；　not　ragged；　with　dirty　bare　flesh　and　hairy　legs　showing　through。　He　looked　as　if　he　had　not　a　care　in　the　world　and　that　in　itself　was　startling　these　days；　when　other　men　wore　such　worried；　preoccupied；　grim　looks。　His　brown　face　was　Bland　and　his　mouth；　red　lipped；　clear　cut　as　a　woman’s；　frankly　sensual；　smiled　carelessly　as　he　lifted　her　into　the　carriage。
　The　muscles　of　his　big　body　rippled　against　his　well…tailored　clothes；　as　he　got　in　beside　her；　and；　as　always；　the　sense　of　his　great　physical　power　struck　her　like　a　blow。　She　watched　the　swell　of　his　powerful　shoulders　against　the　cloth　with　a　fascination　that　was　disturbing；　a　little　frightening。　His　body　seemed　so　tough　and　hard；　as　tough　and　hard　as　his　keen　mind。　His　was　such　an　easy；　graceful　strength；　lazy　as　a　panther　stretching　in　the　sun；　alert　as　a　panther　to　spring　and　strike。
　“You　little　fraud；”　he　said；　clucking　to　the　horse。　“You　dance　all　night　with　the　soldiers　and　give　them　roses　and　ribbons　and　tell　them　how　you’d　die　for　the　Cause；　and　when　it　comes　to　bandaging　a　few　wounds　and　picking　off　a　few　lice；　you　decamp　hastily。”
　“Can’t　you　talk　about　something　else　and　drive　faster？　It　would　be　just　my　luck　for　Grandpa　Merriwether　to　come　out　of　his　store　and　see　me　and　tell　old　lady—I　mean；　Mrs。　Merriwether。”
　He　touched　up　the　mare　with　the　whip　and　she　trotted　briskly　across　Five　Points　and　across　the　railroad　tracks　that　cut　the　town　in　two。　The　train　bearing　the　wounded　had　already　come　in　and　the　litter　bearers　were　working　swiftly　in　the　hot　sun；　transferring　wounded　into　ambulances　and　covered　ordnance　wagons。　Scarlett　had　no　qualm　of　conscience　as　she　watched　them　but　only　a　feeling　of　vast　relief　that　she　had　made　her　escape。
　“I’m　just　sick　and　tired　of　that　old　hospital；”　she　said；　settling　her　billowing　skirts　and　tying　her　bonnet　bow　more　firmly　under　her　chin。　“And　every　day　more　and　more　wounded　come　in。　It’s　all　General　Johnston’s　fault。　If　he’d　just　stood　up　to　the　Yankees　at　Dalton；　they’d　have—”
　“But　he　did　stand　up　to　the　Yankees；　you　ignorant　child。　And　if　he’d　kept　on　standing　there；　Sherman　would　have　flanked　him　and　crushed　him　between　the　two　wings　of　his　army。　And　he’d　have　lost　the　railroad　and　the　railroad　is　what　Johnston　is　fighting　for。”
　“Oh；　well；”　said　Scarlett；　on　whom　military　strategy　was　utterly　lost。　“It’s　his　fault　anyway。　He　ought　to　have　done　something　about　it　and　I　think　he　ought　to　be　removed。　Why　doesn’t　he　stand　and　fight　instead　of　retreating？”
　“You　are　like　everyone　else；　screaming　‘Off　with　his　head’　because　he　can’t　do　the　impossible。　He　was　Jesus　the　Savior　at　Dalton；　and　now　he’s　Judas　the　Betrayer　at　Kennesaw　Mountain；　all　in　six　weeks。　Yet；　just　let　him　drive　the　Yankees　back　twenty　miles　and　he’ll　be　Jesus　again。　My　child；　Sherman　has　twice　as　many　men　as　Johnston；　and　he　can　afford　to　lose　two　men　for　every　one　of　our　gallant　laddies。　And　Johnston　can’t　afford　to　lose　a　single　man。　He　needs　reinforcements　badly　and　what　is　he　getting？　‘Joe　Brown’s　Pets。’　What　a　help　they’ll　be！”
　“Is　the　militia　really　going　to　be　called　out？　The　Home　Guard；　too？　I　hadn’t　heard。　How　do　you　know？”
　There’s　a　rumor　floating　about　to　that　effect　The　rumor　arrived　on　the　train　from　Milledgeville　this　morning。　Both　the　militia　and　the　Home　Guards　are　going　to　be　sent　in　to　reinforce　General　Johnston。　Yes；　Governor　Brown’s　darlings　are　likely　to　smell　powder　at　last；　and　I　imagine　most　of　them　will　be　much　surprised。　Certainly　they　never　expected　to　see　action。　The　Governor　as　good　as　promised　them　they　wouldn’t。　Well；　that’s　a　good　joke　on　them。　They　thought　they　had　bomb　proofs　because　the　Governor　stood　up　to　even　Jeff　Davis　and　refused　to　send　them　to　Virginia。　Said　they　were　needed　for　the　defense　of　their　state。　Who’d　have　ever　thought　the　war　would　come　to　their　own　back　yard　and　they’d　really　have　to　defend　their　state？”
　“Oh；　how　can　you　laugh；　you　cruel　thing！　Think　of　the　old　gentlemen　and　the　little　boys　in　the　Home　Guard！　Why；　little　Phil　Meade　will　have　to　go　and　Grandpa　Merriwether　and　Uncle　Henry　Hamilton。”
　“I’m　not　talking　about　the　little　boys　and　the