Gone With the Wind

"Lost? Do you mean -- have you done something the Atlanta Yankees can get you for? I mean, about helping Tony get away or -- or -- Oh, Ashley, you aren't in the Ku Klux, are you?"

His remote eyes came back to her swiftly and he smiled a brief smile that never reached his eyes.

"I had forgotten you were so literal. No, it's not the Yankees I'm afraid of. I mean if I go to Atlanta and take help from you again, I bury forever any hope of ever standing alone."

"Oh," she sighed in quick relief, "if it's only that!

"Yes," and he smiled again, the smile more wintry than before. "Only that. Only my masculine pride, my self-respect and, if you choose to so call it, my immortal soul."

"But," she swung around on another tack, "you could gradually buy the mill from me and it would be your own and then --"

"Scarlett," he interrupted fiercely, "I tell you, no! There are other reasons."

"What reasons?"

"You know my reasons better than anyone in the world."

"Oh -- that? But -- that'll be all right," she assured swiftly. "I promised, you know, out in the orchard, last winter and I'll keep my promise and --"

"Then you are surer of yourself than I am. I could not count on myself to keep such a promise. I should not have said that but I had to make you understand. Scarlett, I will not talk of this any more. It's finished. When Will and Suellen marry, I am going to New York."

His eyes, wide and stormy, met hers for an instant and then he went swiftly across the room. His hand was on the door knob. Scarlett stared at him in agony. The interview was ended and she had lost. Suddenly weak from the strain and sorrow of the last day and the present disappointment, her nerves broke abruptly and she screamed: "Oh, Ashley!" And, flinging herself down on the sagging sofa, she burst into wild crying.

She heard his uncertain footsteps leaving the door and his helpless voice saying-her name over and over above her head. There was a swift pattering of feet racing up the hall from the kitchen and Melanie burst into the room, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Scarlett ... the baby isn't ... ?"

Scarlett burrowed her head in the dusty upholstery and screamed again.

"Ashley -- he's so mean! So doggoned mean -- so hateful!"

"Oh, Ashley, what have you done to her?" Melanie threw he

rself on the floor beside the sofa and gathered Scarlett into her arms. "What have you said? How could you! You might bring on the baby! There, my darling, put your head on Melanie's shoulder! What is wrong?"

"Ashley -- he's so -- so bullheaded and hateful!"

"Ashley, I'm surprised at you! Upsetting her so much and in her condition and Mr. O'Hara hardly in his grave!"

"Don't you fuss at him!" cried Scarlett illogically, raising her head abruptly from Melanie's shoulder, her coarse black hair tumbling out from its net and her face streaked with tears. "He's got a right to do as he pleases!"

"Melanie," said Ashley, his face white, "let me explain. Scarlett was kind enough to offer me a position in Atlanta as manager of one of her mills --"

"Manager!" cried Scarlett indignantly. I offered him a half-interest and he --"

"And I told her I had already made arrangements for us to go North and she --"

"Oh," cried Scarlett, beginning to sob again, "I told him and told him how much I needed him -- how I couldn't get anybody to manage the mill -- how I was going to have this baby -- and he refused to come! And now -- now, I'll have to sell the mill and I know I can't get anything like a good price for it and I'll lose money and I guess maybe we'll starve, but he won't care. He's so mean!"

She burrowed her head back into Melanie's thin shoulder and some of the real anguish went from her as a flicker of hope woke in her. She could sense that in Melanie's devoted heart she had an ally, feel Melanie's indignation that anyone, even her beloved husband, should make Scarlett cry. Melanie flew at Ashley like a small determined dove and pecked him for the first time in her life.

"Ashley, how could you refuse her? And after all she's done for us! How ungrateful you make us appear! And she so helpless now with the bab -- How unchivalrous of you! She helped us when we needed help and now you deny her when she needs you!"

Scarlett peeped slyly at Ashley and saw surprise and uncertainty plain in his face as he looked into Melanie's dark indignant eyes. Scarlett was surprised, too, at the vigor of Melanie's attack, for she knew Melanie considered her husband beyond wifely reproaches and thought his decisions second only to God's.

"Melanie ..." he began and then threw out his hands helplessly.

"Ashley, how can you hesitate? Think what she's done for us -- for me! I'd have died in Atlanta when Beau came if it hadn't been for her! And she -- yes, she killed a Yankee, defending us. Did you know that? She killed a man for us. And she worked and slaved before you and Will came home, just to keep food in our mouths. And when I think of her plowing and picking cotton, I could just -- Oh, my darling!" And she swooped her head and kissed Scarlett's tumbled hair in fierce loyalty. "And now the first time she asks us to do something for her --"