Gone With the Wind

"O God," she prayed rapidly, "do, please, let her live! I'll make it up to her. I'll be so good to her. I'll never even speak to Ashley again as long as I live, if You'll only let her get well!"

"Ashley," said Melanie feebly and her fingers readied out to touch Scarlett's bowed head. Her thumb and forefinger tugged with no more strength than that of a baby at Scarlett's hair. Scarlett knew what that meant, knew Melanie wanted her to look up. But she could not, could not meet Melanie's eyes and read that knowledge in them.

"Ashley," Melanie whispered again and Scarlett gripped herself. When she looked God in the face on the Day of Judgment and read her sentence in His eyes, it would not be as bad as this. Her soul cringed but she raised her head.

She saw only the same dark loving eyes, sunken and drowsy with death, the same tender mouth tiredly fighting pain for breath. No reproach was there,

no accusation and no fear -- only an anxiety that she might not find strength for words.

For a moment Scarlett was too stunned to even feel relief. Then, as she held Melanie's hand more closely, a flood of warm gratitude to God swept over her and, for the first time since her childhood, she said a humble, unselfish prayer.

"Thank You, God. I know I'm not worth it but thank You for not letting her know."

"What about Ashley, Melly?"

"You'll -- look after him?"

"Oh, yes."

"He catches cold -- so easily."

There was a pause.

"Look after -- his business -- you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. I will."

She made a great effort.

"Ashley isn't -- practical."

Only death could have forced that disloyalty from Melanie.

"Look after him, Scarlett -- but -- don't ever let him know."

"I'll look after him and the business too, and I'll never let him know. I'll just kind of suggest things to him."

Melanie managed a small smile but it was a triumphant one as her eyes met Scarlett's again. Their glance sealed the bargain that the protection of Ashley Wilkes from a too harsh world was passing from one woman to another and that Ashley's masculine pride should never be humbled by this knowledge.

Now the struggle went out of the tired face as though with Scarlett's promise, ease had come to her.

"You're so smart -- so brave -- always been so good to me --"

At these words, the sob came freely to Scarlett's throat and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Now, she was going to bawl like a child and cry out: "I've been a devil! I've wronged you so! I never did anything for you! It was all for Ashley."

She rose to her feet abruptly, sinking her teeth into her thumb to regain her control. Rhett's words came back to her again, "She loves you. Let that be your cross." Well, the cross was heavier now. It was bad enough that she had tried by every art to take Ashley from her. But now it was worse that Melanie, who had trusted her blindly through life, was laying the same love and trust on her in death. No, she could not speak. She could not even say again: "Make an effort to live." She must let her go easily, without a struggle, without tears, without sorrow.

The door opened slightly and Dr. Meade stood on the threshold, beckoning imperiously. Scarlett bent over the bed, choking back her tears and taking Melanie's hand, laid it against her cheek.

"Good night," she said, and her voice was steadier than she thought it possibly could be.

"Promise me --" came the whisper, very softly now.

"Anything, darling."

"Captain Butler -- be kind to him. He -- loves you so."

"Rhett?" thought Scarlett, bewildered, and the words meant nothing to her.