"So it sat on your chest," said Rhett softly. "Was it a big one?"
"Oh, yes! Dretfull big. And claws."
"Ah, claws, too. Well, now. I shall certainly sit up all night and shoot him if he comes back." Rhett's voice was interested and soothing and Bonnie's sobs died away. Her voice became less choked as she went into detailed description of her monster guest in a language which only he could understand. Irritation stirred in Scarlett as Rhett discussed the matter as if it had been something real.
"For Heaven's sake, Rhett --"
But he made a sign for silence. When Bonnie was at last asleep, he laid her in her bed and pulled up the sheet.
"I'm going to skin that nigger alive," he said quietly. It's your fault too. Why didn't you come up here to see if the light was burning?"
"Don't be a fool, Rhett," she whispered. "She gets this way because you humor her. Lots of children are afraid of the dark but they get over it. Wade was afraid but I didn't pamper him. If you'd just let her scream for a night or two --"
"Let her scream!" For a moment Scarlett thought he would hit her. "Either you are a fool or the most inhuman woman I've ever seen."
"I don't want her to grow up nervous and cowardly."
"Cowardly? Hell's afire! There isn't a cowardly bone in her body! But you haven't any imagination and, of course, you can't appreciate the tortures of people who have one -- especially a child. If something with claws and horns came and sat on your chest, you'd tell it to get the hell off you, wouldn't you? Like hell you would. Kindly remember, Madam, that I've seen you wake up squalling like a scalded cat simply because you dreamed of running in a fog. And that's not been so long ago either!"
Scarlett was taken aback, for she never liked to think of that dream. Moreover, it embarrassed her to remember that Rhett had comforted her in much the same manner he comforted Bonnie. So she swung rapidly to a different attack.
"You are just humoring her and -- "
"And I intend to keep on humoring her. If I do, she'll outgrow it and forget about it."
"Then," said Scarlett acidly, "if you intend to play nursemaid, you might try coming home nights and sober too, for a change."
"I shall come home early but drunk as a fiddler's bitch if I please."
He did come home early thereafter, arriving long before time for Bonnie to be put to bed. He sat beside her, holding her hand until sleep loosened her grasp. Only then did he tiptoe downstairs, leaving the lamp burning brightly and the door ajar so he might hear her should she awake and become frightened. Never again did he intend her to have a recurrence of fear of the dark. The whole household was acutely conscious of the burning light, Scarlett, Mammy, Prissy and Pork, frequently tiptoeing upstairs to make sure that it still burned.
He came home sober too, but that was none of Scarlett's doing. For months he had been drinking heavily, though he was never actually drunk, and one evening the smell of whisky was especially strong upon his breath. He picked up Bonnie, swung her to his shoulder and asked her: "Have you a kiss for your sweetheart?"
She wrinkled her small upturned nose and wriggled to get down from his arms.
"No," she said frankly. "Nasty."
"I'm what?"
"Smell nasty. Uncle Ashley don't smell nasty."
"Well, I'll be damned," he said ruefully, putting her on the floor. "I never expected to find a temperance advocate in my own home, of all places!"
But, thereafter, he limited his drinking to a glass of wine after supper. Bonnie, who was always permitted to have the last drops in the glass, did not think the smell of wine nasty at all. As the result, the puffiness which had begun to obscure the hard lines of his cheeks slowly disappeared and the circles beneath his black eyes were not so dark or so harshly cut. Because Bonnie liked to ride on the front of his saddle, he stayed out of doors more and the sunburn began to creep across his dark face, making him swarthier than ever. He looked healthier and laughed more and was again like the dashing young blockader who had excited Atlanta early in the war.
People who had never liked him came to smile as he went by with the small figure perched before him on his saddle. Women who had heretofore believed that no woman was safe with him, began to stop and talk with him on the streets, to admire Bonnie. Even the strictest old ladies felt that a man who could discuss the ailments and problems of childhood as well as he did could not be altogether bad.
CHAPTER LIII
IT WAS Ashley's birthday and Melanie was giving him a surprise reception that night. Everyone knew about the reception, except Ashley. Even Wade and little Beau knew and were sworn to secrecy that puffed them up with pride. Everyone in Atlanta who was nice had been invited and was coming. General Gordon and his family had graciously accepted, Alexander Stephens would be present if his ever-uncertain health permitted and even Bob Toombs, the stormy petrel of the Confederacy, was expected.
All that morning, Scarlett, with Melanie, India and Aunt Pitty flew about the little house, directing the negroes as they hung freshly laundered curtains, polished silver, waxed the floor and cooked, stirred and tasted the refreshments. Scarlett had never seen Melanie so excited or so happy.
"You see, dear, Ashley hasn't had a birthday party since -- since, you remember the barbecue at Twelve Oaks? The day we heard about Mr. Lincoln's call for volunteers? Well, he hasn't had a birthday party since then. And he works so hard and he's so tired when he gets home at night that he really hasn't thought about today being his birthday. And won't he be surprised after supper when everybody troops in!"
"How you goin' to manage them lanterns on the lawn without Mr. Wilkes seein' them when he comes home to supper?" demanded Archie grumpily.
He had sat all morning watching the preparations, interested but unwilling to admit it. He had never been behind the scenes at a large town folks' party and it was a new experience. He made frank remarks about women running around like the house was afire, just because they were having company, but wild horses could not have dragged him from the scene. The colored-paper lanterns which Mrs. Elsing and Fanny had made and painted for the occasion held a special interest for him, as he had never seen "sech contraptions" before. They had been hidden in his room in the cellar and he had examined them minutely.
"Mercy! I hadn't thought of that!" cried Melanie. "Archie, how fortunate that you mentioned it. Dear, dear! What shall I do? They've got to be strung on the bushes and trees and little candles put in them and lighted just at the proper time when the guests are arriving. Scarlett, can you send Pork down to do it while we're eating supper?"
"Miz Wilkes, you got more sense than most women but you gits flurried right easy," said Archie. "And as for that fool nigger, Pork, he ain't got no bizness with them thar contraptions. He'd set them afire in no time. They are -- right pretty," he conceded. "I'll hang them for you, whilst you and Mr. Wilkes are eatin'."
"Oh, Archie, how kind of you!" Melanie turned childlike eyes of gratitude and dependence upon him. "I don't know what I should do without you. Do you suppose you could go put the candles in them now, so we'd have that much out of the way?"
"Well, I could, p'raps," said Archie ungraciously and stumped off toward the cellar stairs.
"There's more ways of killing a cat than choking him to death with butter," giggled Melanie when the whiskered old man had thumped down the stairs. "I had intended all along for Archie to put up those lanterns but you know how he is. He won't do a thing if you ask him to. And now we've got him out from underfoot for a while. The darkies are so scared of him they just won't do any work when he's around, breathing down their necks."
"Melly, I wouldn't have that old desperado in my house," said Scarlett crossly. She hated Archie as much as he hated her and they barely spoke. Melanie's was the only house in which he would remain if she were present. And even in Melanie's house, he stared at her with suspicion and cold contempt. "He'll cause you trouble, mark my words."
"Oh, he's harmless if you flatter him and act like you depend on him," said Me
lanie. "And he's so devoted to Ashley and Beau that I always feel safe having him around."
"You mean he's so devoted to you, Melly," said India, her cold face relaxing into a faintly warm smile as her gaze rested fondly on her sister-in-law. "I believe you're the first person that old ruffian has loved since his wife -- er -- since his wife. I think he'd really like for somebody to insult you, so he could kill them to show his respect for you."
"Mercy! How you run on, India!" said Melanie blushing. "He thinks I'm a terrible goose and you know it."
"Well, I don't see that what that smelly old hillbilly thinks is of any importance," said Scarlett abruptly. The very thought of how Archie had sat in judgment upon her about the convicts always enraged her. "I have to go now. I've got to go get dinner and then go by the store and pay off the clerks and go by the lumber yard and pay the drivers and Hugh Elsing."
"Oh, are you going to the lumber yard?" asked Melanie. "Ashley is coming in to the yard in the late afternoon to see Hugh. Can you possibly hold him there till five o'clock? If he comes home earlier he'll be sure to catch us finishing up a cake or something and then he won't be surprised at all."
Scarlett smiled inwardly, good temper restored.
"Yes, I'll hold him," she said.
As she spoke, India's pale lashless eyes met hers piercingly. She always looks at me so oddly when I speak of Ashley, thought Scarlett.
"Well, hold him there as long as you can after five o'clock," said Melanie. "And then India will drive down and pick him up. ... Scarlett, do come early tonight. I don't want you to miss a minute of the reception."
As Scarlett rode home she thought sullenly: "She doesn't want me to miss a minute of the reception, eh? Well then, why didn't she invite me to receive with her and India and Aunt Pitty?"
Generally, Scarlett would not have cared whether she received at Melly's piddling parties or not. But this was the largest party Melanie had ever given and Ashley's birthday party too, and Scarlett longed to stand by Ash-ley's side and receive with him. But she knew why she had not been invited to receive. Even had she not known it, Rhett's comment on the subject had been frank enough.
"A Scalawag receive when all die prominent ex-Confederates and Democrats are going to be there? Your notions are as enchanting as they are muddle headed. It's only because of Miss Melly's loyalty that you are invited at all."
Scarlett dressed with more than usual care that afternoon for her trip to the store and the lumber yard, wearing the new dull-green changeable taffeta frock that looked lilac in some lights and the new pale-green bonnet, circled about with dark-green plumes. If only Rhett would let her cut bangs and frizzle them on her forehead, how much better this bonnet would look! But he had declared that he would shave her whole head if she banged her forelocks. And these days he acted so atrociously he really might do it.
It was a lovely afternoon, sunny but not too hot, bright but not glaring, and the warm breeze that rustled the trees along Peachtree Street made the plumes on Scarlett's bonnet dance. Her heart danced too, as always when she was going to see Ashley. Perhaps, if she paid off the team drivers and Hugh early, they would go home and leave her and Ashley alone in the square little office in the middle of the lumber yard. Chances to see Ashley alone were all too infrequent these days. And to think that Melanie had asked her to hold him! That was funny!
Her heart was merry when she reached the store, and she paid off Willie and the other counter boys without even asking what the day's business had been. It was Saturday, the biggest day of the week for the store, for all the farmers came to town to shop that day, but she asked no questions.
Along the way to the lumber yard she stopped a dozen times to speak with Carpetbagger ladies in splendid equipages -- not so splendid as her own, she thought with pleasure -- and with many men who came through the red dust of the street to stand hat in hand and compliment her. It was a beautiful afternoon, she was happy, she looked pretty and her progress was a royal one. Because of these delays she arrived at the lumber yard later than she intended and found Hugh and the team drivers sitting on a low pile of lumber waiting for her.
"Is Ashley here?"
"Yes, he's in the office," said Hugh, the habitually worried expression leaving his face at the sight of her happy, dancing eyes. "He's trying to -- I mean, he's going over the books."
"Oh, he needn't bother about that today," she said and then lowering her voice: "Melly sent me down to keep him here till they get the house straight for the reception tonight."
Hugh smiled for he was going to the reception. He liked parties and he guessed Scarlett did too from the way she looked this afternoon. She paid off the teamsters and Hugh and, abruptly leaving them, walked toward the office, showing plainly by her manner that she did not care to be accompanied. Ashley met her at the door and stood in the afternoon sunshine, his hair bright and on his lips a little smile that was almost a grin.
"Why, Scarlett, what are you doing downtown this time of the day? Why aren't you out at my house helping Melly get ready for the surprise party?"
"Why, Ashley Wilkes!" she cried indignantly. "You weren't supposed to know a thing about it. Melly will be so disappointed if you aren't surprised."
"Oh, I won't let on. I'll be the most surprised man in Atlanta," said Ashley, his eyes laughing.
"Now, who was mean enough to tell you?"
"Practically every man Melly invited. General Gordon was the first. He said it had been his experience that when women gave surprise parties they usually gave them on the very nights men had decided to polish and clean all the guns in the house. And then Grandpa Merriwether warned me. He said Mrs. Merriwether gave him a surprise party once and she was the most surprised person there, because Grandpa had been treating his rheumatism, on the sly, with a bottle of whisky and he was too drunk to get out of bed and -- oh, every man who's ever had a surprise party given him told me."
"The mean things!" cried Scarlett but she had to smile.
He looked like the old Ashley she knew at Twelve Oaks when he smiled like this. And he smiled so seldom these days. The air was so soft, the sun so gentle, Ashley's face so gay, his talk so unconstrained that her heart leaped with happiness. It swelled in her bosom until it positively ached with pleasure, ached as with a burden of joyful, hot, unshed tears. Suddenly she felt sixteen again and happy, a little breathless and excited. She had a mad impulse to snatch off her bonnet and toss it into the air and cry "Hurray!" Then she thought how startled Ashley would be if she did this, and she suddenly laughed, laughed until tears came to her eyes. He laughed, too, throwing back his head as though he enjoyed laughter, thinking her mirth came from the friendly treachery of the men who had given Melly's secret away.
"Come in, Scarlett. I'm going over the books."
She passed into the small room, blazing with the afternoon sun, and sat down in the chair before the roll-topped desk. Ashley, following her, seated himself on the corner of the rough table, his long legs dangling easily.
"Oh, don't let's fool with any books this afternoon, Ashley! I just can't be bothered. When I'm wearing a new bonnet, it seems like all the figures I know leave my head."
"Figures are well lost when the bonnet's as pretty as that one," he said. "Scarlett, you get prettier all the time!"
He slipped from the table and, laughing, took her hands, spreading them wide so he could see her dress. "You are so pretty! I don't believe you'll ever get old!"
At his touch she realized that, without being conscious of it, she had hoped that just this thing would happen. All this happy afternoon, she had hoped for the warmth of his hands, the tenderness of his eyes, a word that would show he cared. This was the first time they had been utterly alone since the cold day in the orchard at Tara, the first time their hands had met in any but formal gestures, and through the long months she had hungered for closer contact. But now --
How odd that the touch of his hands did not excite her! Once his very nearness would have set her a-tremble. Now she fe
lt a curious warm friendliness and content. No fever leaped from his hands to hers and in his hands her heart hushed to happy quietness. This puzzled her, made her a little disconcerted. He was still her Ashley, still her bright, shining darling and she loved him better than life. Then why --
But she pushed the thought from her mind. It was enough that she was with him and he was holding her hands and smiling, completely friendly, without strain or fever. It seemed miraculous that this could be when she thought of all the unsaid things that lay between them. His eyes looked into hers, clear and shining, smiling in the old way she loved, smiling as though there had never been anything between them but happiness. There was no barrier between his eyes and hers now, no baffling remoteness. She laughed.
"Oh, Ashley, I'm getting old and decrepit."
"Ah, that's very apparent! No, Scarlett, when you are sixty, you'll look the same to me. I'll always remember you as you were that day of our last barbecue, sitting under an oak with a dozen boys around you. I can even tell you just how you were dressed, in a white dress covered with tiny green flowers and a white lace shawl about your shoulders. You had on little green slippers with black lacings and an enormous leghorn hat with long green streamers. I know that dress by heart because when I was in prison and things got too bad, I'd take out my memories and thumb them over like pictures, recalling every little detail --"
He stopped abruptly and the eager light faded from his face. He dropped her hands gently and she sat waiting, waiting for his next words.
"We've come a long way, both of us, since that day, haven't we, Scarlett? We've traveled roads we never expected to travel. You've come swiftly, directly, and I, slowly and reluctantly."
He sat down on the table again and looked at her and a small smile crept back into his face. But it was not the smile that had made her so happy so short a while before. It was a bleak smile.
"Yes, you came swiftly, dragging me at your chariot wheels. Scarlett, sometimes I have an impersonal curiosity as to what would have happened to me without you."
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