飘

leton　and　I　will　build　you　a　fine　house；　right　where　they　join；　in　that　big　pine　grove　and—”
　“Will　you　stop　treating　me　like　a　child！”　cried　Scarlett。　“I　don’t　want　to　go　to　Charleston　or　have　a　house　or　marry　the　twins。　I　only　want—”　She　caught　herself　but　not　in　time。
　Gerald’s　voice　was　strangely　quiet　and　he　spoke　slowly　as　if　drawing　his　words　from　a　store　of　thought　seldom　used。
　“It’s　only　Ashley　you’re　wanting；　and　you’ll　not　be　having　him。　And　if　he　wanted　to　marry　you；　‘twould　be　with　misgivings　that　I’d　say　Yes；　for　an　the　fine　friendship　that’s　between　me　and　John　Wilkes。”　And；　seeing　her　startled　look；　he　continued：　“I　want　my　girl　to　be　happy　and　you　wouldn’t　be　happy　with　him。”
　“Oh；　I　would！　I　would！”
　“That　you　would　not；　daughter。　Only　when　like　marries　like　can　there　be　any　happiness。”
　Scarlett　had　a　sudden　treacherous　desire　to　cry　out；　“But　you’ve　been　happy；　and　you　and　Mother　aren’t　alike；”　but　she　repressed　it；　fearing　that　he　would　box　her　ears　for　her　impertinence。
　“Our　people　and　the　Wilkes　are　different；”　he　went　on　slowly；　fumbling　for　words。　“The　Wilkes　are　different　from　any　of　our　neighbors—different　from　any　family　I　ever　knew。　They　are　queer　folk；　and　it’s　best　that　they　marry　their　cousins　and　keep　their　queerness　to　themselves。”
　“Why；　Pa；　Ashley　is　not—”
　“Hold　your　whist；　Puss！　I　said　nothing　against　the　lad；　for　I　like　him。　And　when　I　say　queer；　it’s　not　crazy　I’m　meaning。　He’s　not　queer　like　the　Calverts　who’d　gamble　everything　they　have　on　a　horse；　or　the　Tarletons　who　turn　out　a　drunkard　or　two　in　every　litter；　or　the　Fontaines　who　are　hot…headed　little　brutes　and　after　murdering　a　man　for　a　fancied　slight。　That　kind　of　queerness　is　easy　to　understand；　for　sure；　and　but　for　the　grace　of　God　Gerald　O’Hara　would　be　having　all　those　faults！　And　I　don’t　mean　that　Ashley　would　run　off　with　another　woman；　if　you　were　his　wife；　or　beat　you。　You’d　be　happier　if　he　did；　for　at　least　you’d　be　understanding　that。　But　he’s　queer　in　other　ways；　and　there’s　no　understanding　him　at　all。　I　like　him；　but　it’s　neither　heads　nor　tails　I　can　make　of　most　he　says。　Now；　Puss；　tell　me　true；　do　you　understand　his　folderol　about　books　and　poetry　and　music　and　oil　paintings　and　such　foolishness？”
　“Oh；　Pa；”　cried　Scarlett　impatiently；　“if　I　married　him；　I’d　change　all　that！”
　“Oh；　you　would；　would　you　now？”　Said　Gerald　testily；　shooting　a　sharp　look　at　her。　“Then　it’s　little　enough　you　are　knowing　of　any　man　living；　let　alone　Ashley。　No　wife　has　ever　changed　a　husband　one　whit；　and　don’t　you　be　forgetting　that。　And　as　for　changing　a　Wilkes—God’s　nightgown；　daughter！　The　whole　family　is　that　way；　and　they’ve　always　been　that　way。　And　probably　always　will。　I　tell　you　they’re　born　queer。　Look　at　the　way　they　go　tearing　up　to　New　York　and　Boston　to　hear　operas　and　see　oil　paintings。　And　ordering　French　and　German　books　by　the　crate　from　the　Yankees！　And　there　they　sit　reading　and　dreaming　the　dear　God　knows　what；　when　they’d　be　better　spending　their　time　hunting　and　playing　poker　as　proper　men　should。”
　“There’s　nobody　in　the　County　sits　a　horse　better　than　Ashley；”　said　Scarlett；　furious　at　the　slur　of　effeminacy　flung　on　Ashley；　“nobody　except　maybe　his　father。　And　as　for　poker；　didn’t　Ashley　take　two　hundred　dollars　away　from　you　just　last　week　in　Jonesboro？”
　“The　Calvert　boys　have　been　blabbing　again；”　Gerald　said　resignedly；　“else　you’d　not　be　knowing　the　amount。　Ashley　can　ride　with　the　best　and　play　poker　with　the　best—that’s　me；　Puss！　And　I’m　not　denying　that　when　he　sets　out　to　drink　he　can　put　even　the　Tarletons　under　the　table。　He　can　do　all　those　things；　but　his　heart’s　not　in　it。　That’s　why　I　say　he’s　queer。”
　Scarlett　was　silent　and　her　heart　sank。　She　could　think　of　no　defense　for　this　last；　for　she　knew　Gerald　was　right。　Ashley’s　heart　was　in　none　of　the　pleasant　things　he　did　so　well。　He　was　never　more　than　politely　interested　in　any　of　the　things　that　vitally　interested　every　one　else。
　Rightly　interpreting　her　silence；　Gerald　patted　her　arm　and　said　triumphantly：　“There　now；　Scarlett！　You　admit　‘tis　true。　What　would　you　be　doing　with　a　husband　like　Ashley？　‘Tis　moonstruck　they　all　are；　all　the　Wilkes。”　And　then；　in　a　wheedling　tone：　“When　I　was　mentioning　the　Tarletons　the　while　ago；　I　wasn’t　pushing　them。　They’re　fine　lads；　but　if　it’s　Cade　Calvert　you’re　setting　your　cap　after；　why；　‘tis　the　same　with　me。　The　Calverts　are　good　folk；　all　of　them；　for　all　the　old　man　marrying　a　Yankee。　And　when　I’m　gone—Whist；　darlin’；　listen　to　me！　I’ll　leave　Tara　to　you　and　Cade—”
　“I　wouldn’t　have　Cade　on　a　silver　tray；”　cried　Scarlett　in　fury。　“And　I　wish　you’d　quit　pushing　him　at　me！　I　don’t　want　Tara　or　any　old　plantation。　Plantations　don’t　amount　to　anything　when—”
　She　was　going　to　say　“when　you　haven’t　the　man　you　want；”　but　Gerald；　incensed　by　the　cavalier　way　in　which　she　treated　his　proffered　gift；　the　thing　which；　next　to　Ellen；　he　loved　best　in　the　whole　world　uttered　a　roar。
　“Do　you　stand　there；　Scarlett　O’Hara；　and　tell　me　that　Tara—that　land—doesn’t　amount　to　anything？”
　Scarlett　nodded　obstinately。　Her　heart　was　too　sore　to　care　whether　or　not　she　put　her　father　in　a　temper。
　“Land　is　the　only　thing　in　the　world　that　amounts　to　anything；”　he　shouted；　his　thick；　short　arms　making　wide　gestures　of　indignation；　“for　‘tis　the　only　thing　in　this　world　that　lasts；　and　don’t　you　be　forgetting　it！　‘Tis　the　only　thing　worth　working　for；　worth　fighting　for—worth　dying　for。”
　“Oh；　Pa；”　she　said　disgustedly；　“you　talk　like　an　Irishman！”
　“Have　I　ever　been　ashamed　of　it？　No；　‘tis　proud　I　am。　And　don’t　be　forgetting　that　you　are　half　Irish；　Miss！　And　to　anyone　with　a　drop　of　Irish　blood　in　them　the　land　they　live　on　is　like　their　mother。　‘Tis　ashamed　of　you　I　am　this　minute。　I　offer　you　the　most　beautiful　land　in　the　world—saving　County　Meath　in　the　Old　Country—and　what　do　you　do？　You　sniff！”
　Gerald　had　begun　to　work　himself　up　into　a　pleasurable　shouting　rage　when　something　in　Scarlett’s　woebegone　face　stopped　him。
　“But　there；　you’re　young。　‘Twill　come　to　you；　this　love　of　land。　There’s　no　getting　away　from　it；　if　you’re　Irish。　You’re　just　a　child　and　bothered　about　your　beaux。　When　you’re　older；　you’ll　be　seeing　how　‘tis。　。。。　Now；　do　you　be　making　up　your　mind　about　Cade　or　the　twins　or　one　of　Evan　Munroe’s　young　bucks；　and　see　how　fine　I　turn　you　out！”
　“Oh；　Pa！”
　By　this　time；　Gerald　was　thoroughly　tired　of　the　conversation　and　thoroughly　annoyed　that　the　problem　should　be　upon　his　shoulders。　He　felt　aggrieved；　moreover；　that　Scarlett　should　still　look　desolate　after　being　offered　the　best　of　the　County　boys　and　Tara；　too。　Gerald　liked　his　gifts　to　be　received　with　clapping　of　hands　and　kisses。
　“Now；　none　of　your　pouts；　Miss。　It　doesn’t　matter　who　you　marry；　as　long　as　he　thinks　like　you　and　is　a　gentleman　and　a　Southerner　and　prideful。　For　a　woman；　love　comes　after　marriage。”
　“Oh；　Pa；　that’s　such　an　Old　Country　notion！”
　“And　a　good　notion　it　is！　All　this　American　business　of　running　around　marrying　for　love；　like　servants；　like　Yankees！　The　best　marriages　are　when　the　parents　choose　for　the　girl。　For　how　can　a　silly　piece　like　yourself　tell　a　good　man　from　a　scoundrel？　Now；　look　at　the　Wilkes。　What’s　kept　them　prideful　and　strong　all　these　generations？　Why；　marrying　the　likes　of　themselves；　marrying　the　cousins　their　family　always　expects　them　to　marry。”
　“Oh；”　cried　Scarlett；　fresh　pain　striking　her　as　Gerald’s　words　brought　home　the　terrible　inevitability　of　the　truth。　Gerald　looked　at　her　bowed　head　and　shuffled　his　feet　uneasily。
　“It’s　not　crying　you　are？”　he　questioned；　fumbling　clumsily　at　her　chin；　trying　to　turn　her　face　upward；　his　own　face　furrowed　with　pity。
　“No；”　she　cried　vehemently；　jerking　away。
　“It’s　lying　you　are；　and　I’m　proud　of　it。　I’m　glad　there’s　pride　in　you；　Puss。　And　I　want　to　see　pride　in　you　tomorrow　at　the　barbecue。　I’ll　not　be　having　the　County　gossiping　and　laughing　at　you　for　mooning　your　heart　out　about　a　man　who　never　gave　you　a　thought　beyond　friendship。”
　“He　did　give　me　a　thought；”　thought　Scarlett；　sorrowfully　in　her　heart。　“Oh；　a　lot　of　thoughts！　I　know　he　did。　I　could　tell。　If　I’d　just　had　a　little　longer；　I　know　I　could　have　made　him　say—Oh；　if　it　only　wasn’t　that　the　Wilkes　always　feel　that　they　have　to　marry　their　cousins！”
　Gerald　took　her　arm　and　passed　it　through　his。
　“We’ll　be　going　in　to　supper　now；　and　all　this　is　between　us。　I’ll　not　be　worrying　your　mother　with　this—nor　do　you　do　it　either。　Blow　your　nose；　daughter。”
　Scarlett　blew　her　nose　on　her　torn　handkerchief；　and　they　started　up　the　dark　drive　arm　in　arm；　the　horse　following　slowly。　Near　the　house；　Scarlett　was　at　the　point　of　speaking　again　when　she　saw　her　mother　in　the　dim　shadows　of　the　porch。　She　had　on　her　bonnet；　shawl　and　mittens；　and　behind　her　was　Mammy；　her　face　like　a　thundercloud；　holding　in　her　hand　the　black　leather　bag　in　which　Ellen　O’Hara　always　carried　the　bandages　and　medicines　she　used　in　doctoring　the　slaves。　Mammy’s