飘

ime　I　laid　eyes　on　you；　in　the　hall　of　Twelve　Oaks；　when　you　were　bewitching　poor　Charlie　Hamilton。　I　want　you　more　than　I　have　ever　wanted　any　woman—and　I’ve　waited　longer　for　you　than　I’ve　ever　waited　for　any　woman。”
　She　was　breathless　with　surprise　at　his　last　words。　In　spite　of　all　his　insults；　he　did　love　her　and　he　was　just　so　contrary　he　didn’t　want　to　come　out　frankly　and　put　it　into　words；　for　fear　she’d　laugh。　Well；　she’d　show　him　and　right　quickly。
　“Are　you　asking　me　to　marry　you？”
　He　dropped　her　hand　and　laughed　so　loudly　she　shrank　back　in　her　chair。
　“Good　Lord；　no！　Didn’t　I　tell　you　I　wasn’t　a　marrying　man？”
　“But—but—what—”
　He　rose　to　his　feet　and；　hand　on　heart；　made　her　a　burlesque　bow。
　“Dear；”　he　said　quietly；　“I　am　complimenting　your　intelligence　by　asking　you　to　be　my　mistress　without　having　first　seduced　you。”
　Mistress！
　Her　mind　shouted　the　word；　shouted　that　she　had　been　vilely　insulted。　But　in　that　first　startled　moment　she　did　not　feel　insulted。　She　only　felt　a　furious　surge　of　indignation　that　he　should　think　her　such　a　fool。　He　must　think　her　a　fool　if　he　offered　her　a　proposition　like　that；　instead　of　the　proposal　of　matrimony　she　had　been　expecting。　Rage；　punctured　vanity　and　disappointment　threw　her　mind　into　a　turmoil　and；　before　she　even　thought　of　the　high　moral　grounds　on　which　she　should　upbraid　him；　she　blurted　out　the　first　words　which　came　to　her　lips—
　“Mistress！　What　would　I　get　out　of　that　except　a　passel　of　brats？”
　And　then　her　jaw　dropped　in　horror　as　she　realized　what　she　had　said。　He　laughed　until　he　choked；　peering　at　her　in　the　shadows　as　she　sat；　stricken　dumb；　pressing　her　handkerchief　to　her　mouth。
　“That’s　why　I　like　you！　You　are　the　only　frank　woman　I　know；　the　only　woman　who　looks　on　the　practical　side　of　matters　without　beclouding　the　issue　with　mouthings　about　sin　and　morality。　Any　other　woman　would　have　swooned　first　and　then　shown　me　the　door。”
　Scarlett　leaped　to　her　feet；　her　face　red　with　shame。　How　could　she　have　said　such　a　thing！　How　could　she；　Ellen’s　daughter；　with　her　upbringing；　have　sat　there　and　listened　to　such　debasing　words　and　then　made　such　a　shameless　reply？　She　should　have　screamed。　She　should　have　fainted。　She　should　have　turned　coldly　away　in　silence　and　swept　from　the　porch。　Too　late　now！
　“I　will　show　you　the　door；”　she　shouted；　not　caring　if　Melanie　or　the　Meades；　down　the　street；　did　hear　her。　“Get　out！　How　dare　you　say　such　things　to　me！　What　have　I　ever　done　to　encourage　you—to　make　you　suppose　。。。　Get　out　and　don’t　ever　come　back　here。　I　mean　it　this　time。　Don’t　you　ever　come　back　here　with　any　of　your　piddling　papers　of　pins　and　ribbons；　thinking　I’ll　forgive　you。　I’ll—I’ll　tell　my　father　and　he’ll　kill　you！”
　He　picked　up　his　hat　and　bowed　and　she　saw　in　the　light　of　the　lamp　that　his　teeth　were　showing　in　a　smile　beneath　his　mustache。　He　was　not　ashamed；　he　was　amused　at　what　she　had　said；　and　he　was　watching　her　with　alert　interest。
　Oh；　he　was　detestable！　She　swung　round　on　her　heel　and　marched　into　the　house。　She　grabbed　hold　of　the　door　to　shut　it　with　a　bang；　but　the　hook　which　held　it　open　was　too　heavy　for　her。　She　struggled　with　it；　panting。
　“May　I　help　you？”　he　asked。
　Feeling　that　she　would　burst　a　blood　vessel　if　she　stayed　another　minute；　she　stormed　up　the　stairs。　And　as　she　reached　the　upper　floor；　she　heard　him　obligingly　slam　the　door　for　her。
　
　CHAPTER　XX
　AS　THE　HOT　noisy　days　of　August　were　drawing　to　a　close　the　bombardment　abruptly　ceased。　The　quiet　that　fell　on　the　town　was　startling。　Neighbors　met　on　the　streets　and　stared　at　one　another；　uncertain；　uneasy；　as　to　what　might　be　impending。　The　stillness；　after　the　screaming　days；　brought　no　surcease　to　strained　nerves　but；　if　possible；　made　the　strain　even　worse。　No　one　knew　why　the　Yankee　batteries　were　silent；　there　was　no　news　of　the　troops　except　that　they　had　been　withdrawn　in　large　numbers　from　the　breastworks　about　the　town　and　had　marched　off　toward　the　south　to　defend　the　railroad。　No　one　knew　where　the　fighting　was；　if　indeed　there　was　any　fighting；　or　how　the　battle　was　going　if　there　was　a　battle。
　Nowadays　the　only　news　was　that　which　passed　from　mouth　to　mouth。　Short　of　paper；　short　of　ink；　short　of　men；　the　newspapers　had　suspended　publication　after　the　siege　began；　and　the　wildest　rumors　appeared　from　nowhere　and　swept　through　the　town。　Now；　in　the　anxious　quiet；　crowds　stormed　General　Hood’s　headquarters　demanding　information；　crowds　massed　about　the　telegraph　office　and　the　depot　hoping　for　tidings；　good　tidings；　for　everyone　hoped　that　the　silence　of　Sherman’s　cannon　meant　that　the　Yankees　were　in　full　retreat　and　the　Confederates　chasing　them　back　up　the　road　to　Dalton；　But　no　news　came。　The　telegraph　wires　were　still；　no　trains　came　in　on　the　one　remaining　railroad　from　the　south　and　the　mail　service　was　broken。
　Autumn　with　its　dusty；　breathless　heat　was　slipping　in　to　choke　the　suddenly　quiet　town；　adding　its　dry；　panting　weight　to　tired；　anxious　hearts。　To　Scarlett；　mad　to　hear　from　Tara；　yet　trying　to　keep　up　a　brave　face；　it　seemed　an　eternity　since　the　siege　began；　seemed　as　though　she　had　always　lived　with　the　sound　of　cannon　in　her　ears　until　this　sinister　quiet　had　fallen。　And　yet；　it　was　only　thirty　days　since　the　siege　began。　Thirty　days　of　siege！　The　city　ringed　with　red…clay　rifle　pits；　the　monotonous　booming　of　cannon　that　never　rested；　the　long　lines　of　ambulances　and　ox　carts　dripping　blood　down　the　dusty　streets　toward　the　hospitals；　the　overworked　burial　squads　dragging　out　men　when　they　were　hardly　cold　and　dumping　them　like　so　many　logs　in　endless　rows　of　shallow　ditches。　Only　thirty　days！
　And　it　was　only　four　months　since　the　Yankees　moved　south　from　Dalton！　Only　four　months！　Scarlett　thought；　looking　back　on　that　far　day；　that　it　had　occurred　in　another　life。　Oh；　no！　Surely　not　just　four　months。　It　had　been　a　lifetime。
　Four　months　ago！　Why；　four　months　ago　Dalton；　Resaca；　Kennesaw　Mountain　had　been　to　her　only　names　of　places　on　the　railroad。　Now　they　were　battles；　battles　desperately；　vainly　fought　as　Johnston　fell　back　toward　Atlanta。　And　now；　Peachtree　Creek；　Decatur；　Ezra　Church　and　Utoy　Creek　were　no　longer　pleasant　names　of　pleasant　places。　Never　again　could　she　think　of　them　as　quiet　villages　full　of　welcoming　friends；　as　green　places　where　she　picnicked　with　handsome　officers　on　the　soft　banks　of　slow…moving　streams。　These　names　meant　battles　too；　and　the　soft　green　grasses　where　she　had　sat　were　cut　to　bits　by　heavy　cannon　wheels；　trampled　by　desperate　feet　when　bayonet　met　bayonet　and　flattened　where　bodies　threshed　in　agonies。　。。。　And　the　lazy　streams　were　redder　now　than　ever　Georgia　clay　could　make　them。　Peachtree　Creek　was　crimson；　so　they　said；　after　the　Yankees　crossed　it。　Peachtree　Creek；　Decatur；　Ezra　Church；　Utoy　Creek。　Never　names　of　places　any　more。　Names　of　graves　where　friends　lay　buried；　names　of　tangled　underbrush　and　thick　woods　where　bodies　rotted　unburied；　names　of　the　four　sides　of　Atlanta　where　Sherman　had　tried　to　force　his　army　in　and　Hood’s　men　had　doggedly　beaten　him　back。
　At　last；　news　came　from　the　south　to　the　strained　town　and　it　was　alarming　news；　especially　to　Scarlett。　General　Sherman　was　trying　the　fourth　side　of　the　town　again；　striking　again　at　the　railroad　at　Jonesboro。　Yankees　in　large　numbers　were　on　that　fourth　side　of　the　town　now；　no　skirmishing　units　or　cavalry　detachments　but　the　massed　Yankee　forces。　And　thousands　of　Confederate　troops　had　been　withdrawn　from　the　lines　close　about　the　city　to　hurl　themselves　against　them。　And　that　explained　the　sudden　silence。
　“Why　Jonesboro？”　thought　Scarlett；　terror　striking　at　her　heart　at　the　thought　of　Tara’s　nearness。　“Why　must　they　always　hit　Jonesboro？　Why　can’t　they　find　some　other　place　to　attack　the　railroad？”
　For　a　week　she　had　not　heard　from　Tara　and　the　last　brief　note　from　Gerald　had　added　to　her　fears。　Carreen　had　taken　a　turn　for　the　worse　and　was　very；　very　sick。　Now　it　might　be　days　before　the　mails　came　through；　days　before　she　heard　whether　Carreen　was　alive　or　dead。　Oh；　if　she　had　only　gone　home　at　the　beginning　of　the　siege；　Melanie　or　no　Melanie！
　There　was　fighting　at　Jonesboro—that　much　Atlanta　knew；　but　how　the　battle　went　no　one　could　tell　and　the　most　insane　rumors　tortured　the　town。　Finally　a　courier　came　up　from　Jonesboro　with　the　reassuring　news　that　the　Yankees　had　been　beaten　back。　But　they　had　made　a　sortie　into　Jonesboro；　burned　the　depot；　cut　the　telegraph　wires　and　torn　up　three　miles　of　track　before　they　retreated。　The　engineering　corps　was　working　like　mad；　repairing　the　line；　but　it　would　take　some　time　because　the　Yankees　had　torn　up　the　crossties；　made　bonfires　of　them；　laid　the　wrenched…up　rails　across　them　until　they　were　red　hot　and　then　twisted　them　around　telegraph　poles　until　they　looked　like　giant　corkscrews。　These　days　it　was　so　hard　to　replace　iron　rails；　to　replace　anything　made　of　iron。
　No；　the　Yankees　hadn’t　gotten　to　Tara。　The　same　courier　who　brought　the　dispatches　to　General　Hood　assured　Scarlett　of　that　He　had　met　Gerald　in　Jonesboro　after　the　battle；　just　as　he　was　st