飘

tle。”
　“So　that’s　where　you　were　so　long！　Whenever　I　send　you　somewhere　you　go　where　I　tell　you　and　don’t　stop　to　“pass　any　time’　with　anybody。　Go—”
　She　stopped　and　racked　her　brain。　Who　was　left　in　town　among　their　friends　who　would　be　helpful？　There　was　Mrs。　Elsing。　Of　course；　Mrs。　Elsing　didn’t　like　her　at　all　these　days　but　she　had　always　been　fond　of　Melanie。
　“Go　to　Mrs。　Elsing’s；　and　explain　everything　very　carefully　and　ten　her　to　please　come　up　here。　And；　Prissy；　listen　to　me。　Miss　Melly’s　baby　is　due　and　she　may　need　you　any　minute　now。　Now　you　hurry　right　straight　back。”
　“Yas’m；”　said　Prissy　and；　turning；　sauntered　down　the　walk　at　snail’s　gait。
　“Hurry；　you　slow　poke！”
　“Yas’m。”
　Prissy　quickened　her　gait　infinitesimally　and　Scarlett　went　back　into　the　house。　She　hesitated　again　before　going　upstairs　to　Melanie。　She　would　have　to　explain　to　her　just　why　Mrs。　Meade　couldn’t　come　and　the　knowledge　that　Phil　Meade　was　badly　wounded　might　upset　her。　Well；　she’d　tell　a　lie　about　it。
　She　entered　Melanie’s　room　and　saw　that　the　breakfast　tray　was　untouched。　Melanie　lay　on　her　side；　her　face　white。
　“Mrs。　Meade’s　over　at　the　hospital；”　said　Scarlett　“But　Mrs。　Rising　is　coming。　Do　you　feel　bad？”
　“Not　very；”　lied　Melanie。　“Scarlett；　how　long　did　it　take　Wade　to　get　born？”
　“Less　than　no　time；”　answered　Scarlett　with　a　cheerfulness　she　was　far　from　feeling。　“I　was　out　in　the　yard　and　I　didn’t　hardly　have　time　to　get　into　the　house。　Mammy　said　it　was　scandalous—just　like　one　of　the　darkies。”
　“I　hope　I’ll　be　like　one　of　the　darkies　too；”　said　Melanie；　mustering　a　smile　which　suddenly　disappeared　as　pain　contorted　her　face。
　Scarlett　looked　down　at　Melanie’s　tiny　hips　with　none　too　sanguine　hopes　but　said　reassuringly：　“Oh；　it’s　not　really　so　bad。”
　“Oh；　I　know　it　isn’t。　I’m　afraid　I’m　a　little　coward。　Is—is　Mrs。　Elsing　coming　right　away？”
　“Yes；　right　away；”　said　Scarlett。　“I’ll　go　down　and　get　some　fresh　water　and　sponge　you　off。　It’s　so　hot　today。”
　She　took　as　long　a　time　as　possible　in　getting　the　water；　running　to　the　front　door　every　two　minutes　to　see　if　Prissy　were　coming。　There　was　no　sign　of　Prissy　so　she　went　back　upstairs；　sponged　Melanie’s　perspiring　body　and　combed　out　her　long　dark　hair。
　When　an　hour　had　passed　she　heard　scuffing　negro　feet　coming　down　the　street；　and　looking　out　of　the　window；　saw　Prissy　returning　slowly；　switching　herself　as　before　and　tossing　her　head　with　as　many　airy　affectations　as　if　she　had　a　large　and　interested　audience。
　“Some　day；　I’m　going　to　take　a　strap　to　that　little　wench；”　thought　Scarlett　savagely；　hurrying　down　the　stairs　to　meet　her。
　“Miss　Elsing　ober　at　de　horsepittle。　Dey　Cookie　‘lows　a　whole　lot　of　wounded　sojers　come　in　on　de　early　train。　Cookie　fixin’　soup　ter　tek　over　dar。　She　say—”
　“Never　mind　what　she　said；”　interrupted　Scarlett；　her　heart　sinking。　“Put　on　a　clean　apron　because　I　want　you　to　go　over　to　the　hospital。　I’m　going　to　give　you　a　note　to　Dr。　Meade；　and　if　he　isn’t　there；　give　it　to　Dr。　Jones　or　any　of　the　other　doctors。　And　if　you　don’t　hurry　back　this　time；　I’ll　skin　you　alive。”
　“Yas’m。”
　“And　ask　any　of　the　gentlemen　for　news　of　the　fighting。　If　they　don’t　know；　go　by　the　depot　and　ask　the　engineers　who　brought　the　wounded　in。　Ask　if　they　are　fighting　at　Jonesboro　or　near　there。”
　“Gawdlmighty；　Miss　Scarlett！”　and　sudden　fright　was　in　Prissy’s　black　face。　“De　Yankees　ain’　at　Tara；　is　dey？”
　“I　don’t　know。　I’m　telling　you　to　ask　for　news。”
　“Gawdlmighty；　Miss　Scarlett！　Whut’ll　dey　do　ter　Maw？”
　Prissy　began　to　bawl　suddenly；　loudly；　the　sound　adding　to　Scarlett’s　own　uneasiness。
　“Stop　bawling！　Miss　Melanie　will　hear　you。　Now　go　change　your　apron；　quick。”
　Spurred　to　speed；　Prissy　hurried　toward　the　back　of　the　house　while　Scarlett　scratched　a　hasty　note　on　the　margin　of　Gerald’s　last　letter　to　her—the　only　bit　of　paper　in　the　house。　As　she　folded　it；　so　that　her　note　was　uppermost；　she　caught　Gerald’s　words；　“Your　mother—typhoid—under　no　condition—to　come　home—”　She　almost　sobbed。　If　it　wasn’t　for　Melanie；　she’d　start　home；　right　this　minute；　if　she　had　to　walk　every　step　of　the　way。
　Prissy　went　off　at　a　trot；　the　letter　gripped　in　her　hand；　and　Scarlett　went　back　upstairs；　trying　to　think　of　some　plausible　lie　to　explain　Mrs。　Elsing’s　failure　to　appear。　But　Melanie　asked　no　questions。　She　lay　upon　her　back；　her　face　tranquil　and　sweet；　and　the　sight　of　her　quieted　Scarlett　for　a　while。
　She　sat　down　and　tried　to　talk　of　inconsequential　things；　but　the　thoughts　of　Tara　and　a　possible　defeat　by　the　Yankees；　prodded　cruelly。　She　thought　of　Ellen　dying　and　of　the　Yankees　coming　into　Atlanta；　burning　everything；　killing　everybody。　Through　it　all；　the　dull　far…off　thundering　persisted；　rolling　into　her　ears　in　waves　of　fear。　Finally；　she　could　not　talk　at　all　and　only　stared　out　of　the　window　at　the　hot　still　street　and　the　dusty　leaves　hanging　motionless　on　the　trees。　Melanie　was　silent　too；　but　at　intervals　her　quiet　face　was　wrenched　with　pain。
　She　said；　after　each　pain：　“It　wasn’t　very　bad；　really；”　and　Scarlett　knew　she　was　lying。　She　would　have　preferred　a　loud　scream　to　silent　endurance。　She　knew　she　should　feel　sorry　for　Melanie；　but　somehow　she　could　not　muster　a　spark　of　sympathy。　Her　mind　was　too　torn　with　her　own　anguish。　Once　she　looked　sharply　at　the　pain…twisted　face　and　wondered　why　it　should　be　that　she；　of　all　people　in　the　world；　should　be　here　with　Melanie　at　this　particular　time—she　who　had　nothing　in　common　with　her；　who　hated　her；　who　would　gladly　have　seen　her　dead。　Well；　maybe　she’d　have　her　wish；　and　before　the　day　was　over　too。　A　cold　superstitious　fear　swept　her　at　this　thought。　It　was　bad　luck　to　wish　that　someone　were　dead；　almost　as　bad　luck　as　to　curse　someone。　Curses　came　home　to　roost；　Mammy　said。　She　hastily　prayed　that　Melanie　wouldn’t　die　and　broke　into　feverish　small　talk；　hardly　aware　of　what　she　said。　At　last；　Melanie　put　a　hot　hand　on　her　wrist。
　“Don’t　bother　about　talking；　dear。　I　know　how　worried　you　are。　I’m　so　sorry　I’m　so　much　trouble。”
　Scarlett　relapsed　into　silence　but　she　could　not　sit　still。　What　would　she　do　if　neither　the　doctor　nor　Prissy　got　there　in　time？　She　walked　to　the　window　and　looked　down　the　street　and　came　back　and　sat　down　again。　Then　she　rose　and　looked　out　of　the　window　on　the　other　side　of　the　room。
　An　hour　went　by　and　then　another。　Noon　came　and　the　sun　was　high　and　hot　and　not　a　breath　of　air　stirred　the　dusty　leaves。　Melanie’s　pains　were　harder　now。　Her　long　hair　was　drenched　in　sweat　and　her　gown　stuck　in　wet　spots　to　her　body。　Scarlett　sponged　her　face　in　silence　but　fear　was　gnawing　at　her。　God　in　Heaven；　suppose　the　baby　came　before　the　doctor　arrived！　What　would　she　do？　She　knew　less　than　nothing　of　midwifery。　This　was　exactly　the　emergency　she　had　been　dreading　for　weeks。　She　had　been　counting　on　Prissy　to　handle　the　situation　if　no　doctor　should　be　available。　Prissy　knew　all　about　midwifery。　She’d　said　so　time　and　again。　But　where　was　Prissy？　Why　didn’t　she　come？　Why　didn’t　the　doctor　come？　She　went　to　the　window　and　looked　again。　She　listened　hard　and　suddenly　she　wondered　if　it　were　only　her　imagination　or　if　the　sound　of　cannon　in　the　distance　had　died　away。　If　it　were　farther　away　it　would　mean　that　the　fighting　was　nearer　Jonesboro　and　that　would　mean—
　At　last　she　saw　Prissy　coming　down　the　street　at　a　quick　trot　and　she　leaned　out　of　the　window。　Prissy；　looking　up；　saw　her　and　her　mouth　opened　to　yell。　Seeing　the　panic　written　on　the　little　black　face　and　fearing　she　might　alarm　Melanie　by　crying　out　evil　tidings；　Scarlett　hastily　put　her　finger　to　her　lips　and　left　the　window。
　“I’ll　get　some　cooler　water；”　she　said；　looking　down　into　Melanie’s　dark；　deep…circled　eyes　and　trying　to　smile。　Then　she　hastily　left　the　room；　closing　the　door　carefully　behind　her。
　Prissy　was　sitting　on　the　bottom　step　in　the　hall；　panting。
　“Dey’s　fightin’　at　Jonesboro；　Miss　Scarlett！　Dey　say　our　gempmums　is　gittin’　beat。　Oh；　Gawd；　Miss　Scarlett！　Whut’ll　happen　ter　Maw　an’　Poke？　Oh；　Gawd；　Miss　Scarlett！　Whut’ll　happen　ter　us　effen　de　Yankees　gits　hyah？　Oh；　Gawd—”
　Scarlett　clapped　a　hand　over　the　blubbery　mouth。
　“For　God’s　sake；　hush！”
　Yes；　what　would　happen　to　them　if　the　Yankees　came—what　would　happen　to　Tara？　She　pushed　the　thought　firmly　back　into　her　mind　and　grappled　with　the　more　pressing　emergency。　If　she　thought　of　these　things；　she’d　begin　to　scream　and　bawl　like　Prissy。
　“Where’s　Dr。　Meade？　When’s　he　coming？”
　“Ah　ain’　nebber　seed　him；　Miss　Scarlett。”
　“What！”
　“No’m；　he　ain’　at　de　horsepittle。　Miss　Merriwether　an’　Miss　Elsing　ain’　dar　needer。　A　man　he　tole　me　de　doctah　down　by　de　car　shed　wid　the　wounded　sojers　jes’　come　in　frum　Jonesboro；　but　Miss　Scarlett；　Ah　wuz　sceered　ter　go　down　dar　ter　de　shed—dey’s　folkses　dyin’　down　dar。　Ah’s　sceered　of　daid　folkses—”
　“What　about　the　other　doctors？”
　“Miss　Scarlett；　fo’　Gawd；　Ah　couldn’　sceercely　git　one　of　dem　ter　read　yo’　note。　Dey　wukin’　in　de　horsepittle　lak　dey　all　done　gon