Scarlett sighed, for her curiosity was sharp.
Pork entered the room, bearing a plate, silver and a napkin. Ellen sat down in the chair which Gerald pulled out for her and four voices attacked her.
“Mother, the lace is loose on my new ball dress and I want to wear it tomorrow night at Twelve Oaks. Won’t you please fix it?”
“Mother, Scarlett’s new dress is prettier than mine and I look like a fright in pink. Why can’t she wear my pink and let me wear her green? She looks all right in pink.”
“Mother, can I stay up for the ball tomorrow night? I’m thirteen now —”
“Mrs. O’Hara, would you believe it! Cade Calvert was in Atlanta this morning and he says the news from Charleston is that they won’t tolerate any more Yankee insults.”
Ellen’s tired mouth smiled and she addressed herself first to her husband, as a wife should.
“If the nice people of Charleston feel that way, I’m sure we will all feel the same way soon,” she said. “No, Carreen, next year, dear. Then you can stay up for balls and wear grown-up dresses. Don’t pout, dear. You can go to the barbecue, remember that, and stay up through supper, but no balls until you are fourteen.”
“Give me your gown, Scarlett, I will fix the lace for you after prayers.
“Suellen, I do not like your tone, dear. Your pink gown is lovely and suitable to your complexion, Scarlett’s is to hers. But you may wear my garnet necklace tomorrow night.”
Suellen, behind her mother’s back, wrinkled her nose triumphantly at Scarlett, who had been planning to beg the necklace for herself. Scarlett put out her tongue at her.
“Now, Mr. O’Hara, tell me more about what Mr. Calvert said about Charleston,” said Ellen.
Scarlett knew her mother cared nothing at all about war and politics, but it gave Gerald pleasure to air his views.
While Gerald was talking, Mammy set the plates before her mistress. Ellen ate properly, but Scarlett could see that she was too tired to know what she was eating.
When the dish was empty, Ellen rose.
“We’ll be having prayers?” Gerald questioned, reluctantly.
“Yes. The lamp, please, Pork, and my prayer book, Mammy.”
Ellen closed her eyes and began praying, her voice rising and falling, lulling and soothing. Heads bowed as Ellen thanked God for the health and happiness of her home, her family and her negroes.
When she had finished her prayers, she began the Rosary: “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death.”
Despite her heartache, a deep sense of quiet and peace fell upon Scarlett as it always did at this hour. Some of the disappointment of the day and the dread of the morrow went away from her, leaving a feeling of hope.
She dropped her head upon her folded hands so that her mother could not see her face, and her thoughts went sadly back to Ashley. How could he be planning to marry Melanie when he really loved her, Scarlett? And when he knew how much she loved him? How could he break her heart?
Then, suddenly, an idea, shining and new, flashed like a comet through her brain.
“Why, Ashley hasn’t an idea that I’m in love with him! How could he know? I’ve always acted so prissy and ladylike and touch-me-not around him he probably thinks I don’t care a thing about him except as a friend. Yes, that’s why he’s never spoken! He thinks his love is hopeless. And that’s why he’s looked so -
“He’s been broken hearted because he thinks I’m in love with Brent or Stuart or Cade. And probably he thinks that if he can’t have me, he might as well please his family and marry Melanie. But if he knew I did love him —”
Her spirits went from deepest depression to excited happiness. This was the answer to Ashley’s strange conduct. He didn’t know! If he knew she loved him, he would hasten to her side. She had only to -
“Oh! What a fool I’ve been not to think of this till now! I must think of some way to let him know. He wouldn’t marry her if he knew I loved him! How could he?”
Even now, it wasn’t too late! And Ashley’s engagement had not even been announced yet! Yes, there was plenty of time!
If no love lay between Ashley and Melanie but only a promise given long ago, then why wasn’t it possible for him to break that promise and marry her? Surely he would do it, if he knew that she, Scarlett, loved him. She must find some way to let him know. She would find some way! And then -
When the last “Amen” sounded, they all rose.
Scarlett entered her room, set the candle on the chest of drawers and chose the dancing dress that needed stitching. Throwing it across her arm, she crossed the hall quietly. The door of her parents’ bedroom was slightly ajar and, before she could knock, Ellen’s voice came to her ears.
“Mr. O’Hara, you must dismiss Jonas Wilkerson.”
Gerald exploded. “And where will I be getting another overseer who wouldn’t be cheating me?”
“He must be dismissed, immediately, tomorrow morning. Big Sam is a good foreman and he can take over the duties until you can hire another overseer.”
“Ah, ha!” came Gerald’s voice. “So, I understand! Then the worthy Jonas sired the —”
“He must be dismissed.”
“So, he is the father of Emmie Slattery’s baby,” thought Scarlett. “Oh, well, what else can you expect from a Yankee man and a white trash girl?”
Then, after a pause, she knocked on the door and handed the dress to her mother.
By the time Scarlett had undressed and blown out the candle, her plan for tomorrow had worked itself out in every detail. It was a simple plan. First, she would be “prideful,” as Gerald had commanded. From the moment she arrived at Twelve Oaks, she would be her gayest self. No one would suspect that she had ever been downhearted because of Ashley and Melanie. And she would flirt with every man there. That would be cruel to Ashley, but it would make him yearn for her all the more. She wouldn’t overlook a man of marriageable age, from old Frank Kennedy, who was Suellen’s beau, down to shy, quiet, blushing Charles Hamilton, Melanie’s brother. They would swarm around her like bees around a hive, and certainly Ashley would be drawn from Melanie to join the circle of her admirers. Then somehow she would maneuver to get a few minutes alone with him, away from the crowd. She hoped everything would work out that way. But if Ashley didn’t make the first move, she would simply have to do it herself.
On realizing how popular she was, that look of sadness and despair would be in his eyes. Then she would make him happy again by letting him discover that, popular though she was, she preferred him above any other man in all the world. Of course, she would do it all in a ladylike way. She wouldn’t say to him that she loved him – that would never do. But the manner of telling him was a detail that troubled her not at all. She had managed such situations before and she could do it again.
Lying in the bed, she pictured the whole scene in her mind. She saw the look of surprise and happiness that would come over his face when he realized that she really loved him, and she heard the words he would say asking her to be his wife.
Naturally, she would have to say then that she simply couldn’t think of marrying a man when he was engaged to another girl, but he would insist and finally she would let herself be persuaded. Then they would decide to run off to Jonesboro that very afternoon and -
Why, by this time tomorrow night, she might be Mrs. Ashley Wilkes!
She sat up in bed, hugging her knees, and for a long happy moment she was Mrs. Ashley Wilkes – Ashley’s bride! Then a slight chill entered her heart. Suppose it didn’t work out this way? Suppose Ashley didn’t beg her to run away with him? Resolutely she pushed the thought from her mind.
“I won’t think of that now,” she said firmly. “If I think of it now, it will upset me. There’s no reason why things won’t come out the way I want them – if he loves me. And I know he does!”
Ellen had never told her that desire and achievement were two different matters. She made the plans that a sixteen-year- old makes when life has been so pleasant that defeat is an impossibility and a pretty dress and a clear complexion are weapons to fi ght fate.
Chapter V
It was ten o’clock in the morning. The day was warm for April and the golden sunlight streamed into Scarlett’s room through the blue curtains of the wide windows.
“Thank God, it isn’t raining.” On the bed lay the applegreen, silk ball dress, neatly packed in a large cardboard box. It was ready to be carried to Twelve Oaks to be put on before the dancing began. If her plans were successful, she would not wear that dress tonight. Long before the ball began, she and Ashley would be on their way to Jonesboro to be married. The troublesome question was – what dress should she wear to the barbecue?
What dress would best set off her charms and make her most irresistible to Ashley? Since eight o’clock she had been trying on dresses.
There remained a colored cotton dress which Scarlett felt was not festive enough for the occasion. It was not suitable for a barbecue, for it had only tiny puff ed sleeves and the neck was low enough for a dancing dress. But there was nothing else to do but wear it. After all she was not ashamed of her neck and arms and bosom, even if it was not correct to show them in the morning.
As she stood before the mirror, she thought that there was absolutely nothing about her figure to cause her shame. Her neck was short but rounded and her arms plump. Her breasts, pushed high by her stays, were very nice breasts. What a pity legs could not be shown, she thought. And as for her waist – there was no one in Fayetteville, Jonesboro or in three counties, who had so small a waist.
The thought of her waist brought her back to practical matters. Mammy would have to lace her tighter. She pushed open the door and shouted for her impatiently.
Mammy entered puffing. In her large black hands was a tray upon which food smoked. In the excitement of trying on dresses Scarlett had forgotten Mammy’s rule that, before going to any party, the O’Hara girls must be crammed so full of food at home they would be unable to eat any refreshments at the party.
“It’s no use. I won’t eat it. You can just take it back to the kitchen. I’m going to have a good time today and eat as much as I please.”
At this heresy, Mammy frowned with indignation.
“Besides, at the last barbecue, Ashley Wilkes told me he liked to see a girl with a healthy appetite.”
Mammy shook her head.
“Whut gempmums says an’ whut dey thinks is two diffunt things. An’ Ah ain’ noticed Mist’ Ashley axing fer ter mahy you.”
Scarlett started to speak sharply and then caught herself. Seeing the look on Scarlett’s face, Mammy picked up the tray and changed her tactics. As she started for the door, she sighed.
“Well’m, awright. You kin sho tell a lady by whut she doan eat. Ah ain’ seed no w’ite lady who et less’n Miss Melly Hamilton did las’ time she wuz visitin’ Mist’ Ashley’ – Ah means, visitin’ Miss India.”
Scarlett looked at her suspiciously, but Mammy’s broad face carried only a look of innocence and of regret that Scarlett was not the lady Melanie Hamilton was.
“Put down that tray and come lace me tighter,” said Scarlett irritably. “And I’ll try to eat a little afterwards. If I ate now I couldn’t lace tight enough.”
Happy with her triumph, Mammy set down the tray.
“Whut mah lamb gwine wear?”
“That,” answered Scarlett, pointing at the fluff y mass of green flowered muslin. Mammy sighed. Between the two evils[16], it was better to let Scarlett wear an afternoon dress at a morning barbecue than to let her gobble like a hog[17].
Having the laced dress on, Scarlett obediently sat down before the tray, wondering if she would be able to get any food into her stomach and still have room to breathe.
“I wish to Heaven I was married. I’m tired of being unnatural and never doing anything I want to do. I’m tired of acting like I don’t eat more than a bird, and walking when I want to run and saying I feel faint after a waltz, when I could dance for two days and never get tired. I’m tired of saying, ‘How wonderful you are!’ to fool men, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t know anything, so men can tell me things and feel important while they’re doing it.”
The carriage was taking Scarlett and her sisters down the red road toward the Wilkes plantation. Gerald rode beside the carriage on his big hunter, warm with brandy and pleased with himself that he had dismissed Jonas Wilkerson that morning so speedily. He was happy, pleasantly excited over the prospect of spending the day shouting about the Yankees and the war, and proud of his three pretty daughters. He gave no thought to his conversation of the day before with Scarlett, for it had completely slipped his mind. He only thought that she was pretty and a great credit to him and that, today, her eyes were as green as the hills of Ireland.
Scarlett, looking at him, knew that he would be very drunk by sundown. Coming home in the dark, he would try, as usual, to jump every fence between Twelve Oaks and Tara and, she hoped, would escape breaking his neck. He would ruin his new gray suit and tell Ellen how his horse fell off the bridge in the darkness – a lie which would fool no one.
Scarlett felt so excited and happy this morning that she included the whole world, as well as Gerald, in her affection. She was pretty and she knew it; she would have Ashley for her own before the day was over; the sun was warm and tender and the glory of the Georgia spring was spread before her eyes.
“I’ll remember how beautiful this day is till I die,” thought Scarlett. “Perhaps it will be my wedding day!”
And she thought how she and Ashley might ride swiftly through this beauty of blossom and greenery this very afternoon, or tonight by moonlight, toward Jonesboro and a preacher. Of course, she would have to be remarried by a priest from Atlanta. She knew Ellen would be shocked at hearing that her daughter had eloped with another girl’s fiancé but would forgive her when she saw her happiness. And Gerald would scold and bawl but finally he would be pleased at a union between his family and the Wilkes.
“But that’ll be something to worry about after I’m married,” she thought, waving the worry away from her.
As they neared the intersecting road, the sound of hooves and carriage wheels became heard and feminine voices sounded from behind the trees. Gerald, riding ahead, pulled up his horse and signed to Toby to stop the carriage where the two roads met.
“’Tis the Tarleton ladies,” he announced to his daughters, smiling, for excepting Ellen there was no lady in the County he liked more than the red-haired Mrs. Tarleton. “And ’tis herself at the reins. Ah, there’s a woman with fine hands for a horse!”
He stood up in his stirrups and took off his hat, as the Tarleton carriage, filled with girls in bright dresses and parasols came into view, with Mrs. Tarleton on the box as Gerald had said. With her four daughters, their mammy and their ball dresses in long cardboard boxes, there was no room for the coachman. And, besides, Beatrice Tarleton never willingly permitted anyone, black or white, to hold reins. She had borne eight children, as red of hair and as full of life as she, and had raised them most successfully, because she gave them all the loving neglect and the stern discipline she gave the colts she bred.
She loved horses and talked horses constantly. She understood them and handled them better than any man in the County.
She waved her whip when she saw Gerald and stopped the horses. To a casual observer it would seem that years had passed since the Tarletons had seen the O’Haras, instead of only two days. But they were a sociable family and liked their neighbors, especially the O’Hara girls. That is, they liked Suellen and Carreen. No girl in the County really liked Scarlett.