she married frank kennedy two weeks later after a whirlwind courtship which sheblushingly told him left her too breathless to oppose his ardor any longer.

he did not know that during those two weeks she had walked the floor at night, gritting her teethat the slowness with which he took hints and encouragements, praying that no untimely letter fromsuellen would reach him and ruin her plans. she thanked god that her sister was the poorest ofcorrespondents, delighting to receive letters and disliking to write them. but there was always achance, always a chance, she thought in the long night hours as she padded back and forth acrossthe cold floor of her bedroom, with ellen’s faded shawl clutched about her nightdress. frank didnot know she had received a laconic letter from will, relating that jonas wilkerson had paidanother call at tara and, finding her gone to atlanta, had stormed about until will and ashleythrew him bodily off the place. will’s letter hammered into her mind the fact she knew only toowell—that time was getting shorter and shorter before the extra taxes must be paid. a fierce desperationdrove her as she saw the days slipping by and she wished she might grasp the hourglass inher hands and keep the sands from running.

but so well did she conceal her feelings, so well did she enact her role, frank suspected nothing,saw no more than what lay on the surface—the pretty and helpless young widow of charleshamilton who greeted him every night in miss pittypat’s parlor and listened, breathless withadmiration, as he told of future plans for his store and how much money he expected to make whenhe was able to buy the sawmill. her sweet sympathy and her bright-eyed interest in every word heuttered were balm upon the wound left by suellen’s supposed defection. his heart was sore andbewildered at suellen’s conduct and his vanity, the shy, touchy vanity of a middle-aged bachelorwho knows himself to be unattractive to women, was deeply wounded. he could not write suellen,upbraiding her for her faithlessness; he shrank from the very idea. but he could ease his heart bytalking about her to scarlett. without saying a disloyal word about suellen, she could tell him sheunderstood how badly her sister had treated him and what good treatment he merited from awoman who really appreciated him.

little mrs. hamilton was such a pretty pink-cheeked person, alternating between melancholysighs when she thought of her sad plight, and laughter as gay and sweet as the tinkling of tinysilver bells when he made small jokes to cheer her. her green gown, now neatly cleaned by mammy, showed off her slender figure with its tiny waist to perfection, and how bewitching wasthe faint fragrance which always clung about her handkerchief and her hair! it was a shame thatsuch a fine little woman should be alone and helpless in a world so rough that she didn’t evenunderstand its harshness. no husband nor brother nor even a father now to protect her. frankthought the world too rude a place for a lone woman and, in that idea, scarlett silently and heartilyconcurred.

he came to call every night, for the atmosphere of pitty’s house was pleasant and soothing.

mammy’s smile at the front door was the smile reserved for quality folks, pitty served him coffeelaced with brandy and fluttered about him and scarlett hung on his every utterance. sometimes inthe afternoons he took scarlett riding with him in his buggy when he went out on business. theserides were merry affairs because she asked so many foolish questions—“just like a woman,” hetold himself approvingly. he couldn’t help laughing at her ignorance about business matters andshe laughed too, saying: “well, of course, you can’t expect a silly little woman like me tounderstand men’s affairs.”

she made him feel, for the first time in his old-maidish life, that he was a strong upstanding manfashioned by god in a nobler mold than other men, fashioned to protect silly helpless women.

when, at last, they stood together to be married, her confiding little hand in his and herdowncast lashes throwing thick black crescents on her pink cheeks, he still did not know how it allcame about. he only knew he had done something romantic and exciting for the first time in hislife. he, frank kennedy, had swept this lovely creature off her feet and into his strong arms. thatwas a heady feeling.

no friend or relative stood up with them at their marriage. the witnesses were strangers calledin from the street. scarlett had insisted on that and he had given in, though reluctantly, for hewould have liked his sister and his brother-in-law from jonesboro to be with him. and a receptionwith toasts drunk to the bride in miss pitty’s parlor amid happy friends would have been a joy tohim. but scarlett would not hear of even miss pitty being present.

“just us two, frank,” she begged, squeezing his arm. “like an elopement. i always did want torun away and be married! please, sweetheart, just for me!”

it was that endearing term, still so new to his ears, and the bright teardrops which edged her palegreen eyes as she looked up pleadingly at him that won him over. after all, a man had to makesome concessions to his bride, especially about the wedding, for women set such a store bysentimental things.

and before he knew it, he was married.

frank gave her the three hundred dollars, bewildered by her sweet urgency, reluctant at first,because it meant the end of his hope of buying the sawmill immediately. but he could not see herfamily evicted, and his disappointment soon faded at the sight of her radiant happiness,disappeared entirely at the loving way she “took on” over his generosity. frank had never beforehad a woman “take on” over him and he came to feel that the money had been well spent, after all.

scarlett dispatched mammy to tara immediately for the triple purpose of giving will the money, announcing her marriage and bringing wade to atlanta. in two days she had a brief note from willwhich she carried about with her and read and reread with mounting joy. will wrote that the taxeshad been paid and jonas wilkerson “acted up pretty bad” at the news but had made no other threatsso far. will closed by wishing her happiness, a laconic formal statement which he qualified in noway. she knew win understood what she had done and why she had done it and neither blamed norpraised. but what must ashley think? she wondered feverishly. what must he think of me now,after what i said to him so short a while ago in the orchard at tara?

she also had a letter from suellen, poorly spelled, violent, abusive, tear splotched, a letter so fullof venom and truthful observations upon her character that she was never to forget it nor forgivethe writer. but even suellen’s words could not dim her happiness that tara was safe, at least fromimmediate danger.

it was hard to realize that atlanta and not tara was her permanent home now. in her desperationto obtain the tax money, no thought save tara and the fate which threatened it had any place in hermind. even at the moment of marriage, she had not given a thought to the fact that the price shewas paying for the safety of home was permanent exile from it. now that the deed was done, sherealized this with a wave of homesickness hard to dispel. but there it was. she had made herbargain and she intended to stand by it. and she was so grateful to frank for saving tara she felt awarm affection for him and an equally warm determination that he should never regret marryingher.

the ladies of atlanta knew their neighbors’ business only slightly less completely than theyknew their own and were far more interested in it. they all knew that for years frank kennedy hadhad an “understanding” with suellen o’hara. in fact, he had said, sheepishly, that he expected toget married in the spring. so the tumult of gossip, surmise and deep suspicion which followed theannouncement of his quiet wedding to scarlett was not surprising. mrs. merriwether, who never lether curiosity go long unsatisfied if she could help it, asked him point-blank just what he meant bymarrying one sister when he was betrothed to the other. she reported to mrs. elsing that all theanswer she got for her pains was a silly look. not even mrs. merriwether, doughty soul that shewas, dared to approach scarlett on the subject. scarlett seemed demure and sweet enough thesedays, but there was a pleased complacency in her eyes which annoyed people and she carried achip on her shoulder which no one cared to disturb.

she knew atlanta was talking but she did not care. after all, there wasn’t anything immoral inmarrying a man. tare was safe. let people talk. she had too many other matters to occupy hermind. the most important was how to make frank realize, in a tactful manner, that his store shouldbring in more money. after the fright jonas wilkerson had given her, she would never rest easyuntil she and frank had some money ahead. and even if no emergency developed, frank wouldneed to make more money, if she was going to save enough for next year’s taxes. moreover, whatfrank had said about the sawmill stuck in her mind. frank could make lots of money out of a mill.

anybody could, with lumber selling at such outrageous prices. she fretted silently because frank’smoney had not been enough to pay the taxes on tara and buy the mill as well. and she made upher mind that he had to make more money on the store somehow, and do it quickly, so he couldbuy that mill before some one else snapped it up. she could see it was a bargain.

if she were a man she would have that mill, if she had to mortgage the store to raise the money.

but, when she intimated this delicately to frank, the day after they married, he smiled and told hernot to bother her sweet pretty little head about business matters. it had come as a surprise to himthat she even knew what a mortgage was and, at first, he was amused. but this amusement quicklypassed and a sense of shock took its place in the early days of their marriage. once, incautiously,he had told her that “people” (he was careful not to mention names) owed him money but couldnot pay just now and he was, of course, unwilling to press old friends and gentlefolk. frankregretted ever mentioning it for, thereafter, she had questioned him about it again and again. shehad the most charmingly childlike air but she was just curious, she said, to know who owed himand how much they owed. frank was very evasive about the matter. he coughed nervously andwaved his hands and repeated his annoying remark about her sweet pretty little head.

it had begun to dawn on him that this same sweet pretty little head was a “good head forfigures.” in fact, a much better one than his own and the knowledge was disquieting. he wasthunderstruck to discover that she could swiftly add a long column of figures in her head when heneeded a pencil and paper for more than three figures. and fractions presented no difficulties to herat all. he felt there was something unbecoming about a woman understanding fractions andbusiness matters and he believed that, should be unfortunate as to have such unladylikecomprehension,sheshouldpretendnott(a) o.nowh(woman) edislik(so) ed talking business with her asmuch as be had enjoyed it before they were married. then he had thought it all beyond her mentalgrasp and it had been pleasant to explain things to her. now he saw that she understood entirely toowell and he felt the usual masculine indignation at the duplicity of women. added to it was theusual masculine disillusionment in discovering that a woman has a brain.

just how early in his married life frank learned of the deception scarlett had used in marryinghim, no one ever knew. perhaps the truth dawned on him when tony fontaine, obviously fancyfree, came to atlanta on business. perhaps it was told him more directly in letters from his sister injonesboro who was astounded at his marriage. certainly he never learned from suellen herself.

she never wrote him and naturally he could not write her and explain. what good wouldexplanations do anyway, now that he was married? he writhed inwardly at the thought that suellenwould never know the truth and would always think he had senselessly jilted her. probablyeveryone else was thinking this too and criticizing him. it certainly put him in an awkwardposition. and he had no way of clearing himself, for a man couldn’t go about saying he had lost hishead about a woman—and a gentleman couldn’t advertise the fact that his wife had entrapped himwith a lie.

scarlett was his wife and a wife was entitled to the loyalty of her husband. furthermore, hecould not bring himself to believe she had married him coldly and with no affection for him at all.

his masculine vanity would not permit such a thought to stay long in his mind. it was morepleasant to think she had fallen so suddenly in love with him she had been willing to lie to get him.

but it was all very puzzling. he knew he was no great catch for a woman half his age and prettyand smart to boot, but frank was a gentleman and he kept his bewilderment to himself. scarlettwas his wife and he could not insult her by asking awkward questions which, after all, would notremedy matters.

not that frank especially wanted to remedy matters, for it appeared that his marriage would be ahappy one. scarlett was the most charming and exciting of women and he thought her perfect in all things—except that she was so headstrong. frank learned early in his marriage that so long as shehad her own way, life could be very pleasant, but when she was opposed— given her own way,she was as gay as a child, laughed a good deal, made foolish little jokes, sat on his knee andtweaked his beard until he vowed he felt twenty years younger. she could be unexpectedly sweetand thoughtful, having his slippers toasting at the fire when he came home at night, fussingaffectionately about his wet feet and interminable head colds, remembering that he always likedthe gizzard of the chicken and three spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee. yes, life was very sweet andcozy with scarlett—as long as she had her own way.

when the marriage was two weeks old, frank contracted the grippe and dr. meade put him tobed. in the first year of the war, frank had spent two months in the hospital with pneumonia and hehad lived in dread of another attack since that time, so he was only too glad to lie sweating underthree blankets and drink the hot concoctions mammy and aunt pitty brought him every hour.

the illness dragged on and frank worried more and more about the store as each day passed.

the place was in charge of the counter boy, who came to the house every night to report on theday’s transactions, but frank was not satisfied. he fretted until scarlett who had only been waitingfor such an opportunity laid a cool hand on his forehead and said: “now, sweetheart, i shall bevexed if you take on so. i’ll go to town and see how things are.”

and she went, smiling as she smothered his feeble protests. during the three weeks of her newmarriage, she had been in a fever to see his account books and find out just how money mattersstood. what luck that he was bedridden!

the store stood near five points, its new roof glaring against the smoked bricks of the old walls.

wooden awnings covered the sidewalk to the edge of the street, and at the long iron barsconnecting the uprights horses and mules were hitched, their heads bowed against the cold mistyrain, their backs covered with torn blankets and quilts. the inside of the store was almost likebullard’s store in jonesboro, except that there were no loungers about the roaring red-hot stove,whittling and spitting streams of tobacco juice at the sand boxes. it was bigger than bullard’s storeand much darker. the wooden awnings cut off most of the winter daylight and the interior was dimand dingy, only a trickle of light coming in through the small fly-specked windows high up on theside walls. the floor was covered with muddy sawdust and everywhere was dust and dirt. therewas a semblance of order in the front of the store, where tall shelves rose into the gloom stackedwith bright bolts of cloth, china, cooking utensils and notions. but in the back, behind the partition,chaos reigned.

here there was no flooring and the assorted jumble of stock was piled helter-skelter on the hard-packed earth. in the semi-darkness she saw boxes and bales of goods, plows and harness andsaddles and cheap pine coffins. secondhand furniture, ranging from cheap gum to mahogany androsewood, reared up in the gloom, and the rich but worn brocade and horsehair upholstery gleamedincongruously in the dingy surroundings. china chambers and bowl and pitcher sets littered thefloor and all around the four walls were deep bins, so dark she had to hold the lamp directly overthem to discover they contained seeds, nails, bolts and carpenters’ tools.

“i’d think a man as fussy and old maidish as frank would keep things tidier,” she thought, scrubbing her grimy hands with her handkerchief. “this place is a pig pen. what a way to run astore! if he’d only dust up this stuff and put it out in front where folks could see it, he could sellthings much quicker.”

and if his stock was in such condition, what mustn’t his accounts be!

i’ll look at his account book now, she thought and, picking up the lamp, she went into the frontof the store. willie, the counter boy, was reluctant to give her the large dirty-backed ledger. it wasobvious that, young as he was, he shared frank’s opinion that women had no place in business. butscarlett silenced him with a sharp word and sent him out to get his dinner. she felt better when hewas gone, for his disapproval annoyed her, and she settled herself in a split-bottomed chair by theroaring stove, tucked one foot under her and spread the book across her lap. it was dinner time andthe streets were deserted. no customers called and she had the store to herself.

she turned the pages slowly, narrowly scanning the rows of names and figures written in frank’scramped copperplate hand. it was just as she had expected, and she frowned as she saw this newestevidence of frank’s lack of business sense. at least five hundred dollars in debts, some of themmonths old, were set down against the names of people she knew well, the merriwethers and theelsings among other familiar names. from frank’s deprecatory remarks about the money “people”

owed him, she had imagined the sums to be small. but this!

“if they can’t pay, why do they keep on buying?” she thought irritably. “and if he knows theycan’t pay, why does he keep on selling them stuff? lots of them could pay if he’d just make themdo it. the elsings certainly could if they could give fanny a new satin dress and an expensivewedding. frank’s just too soft hearted, and people take advantage of him. why, if he’d collectedhalf this money, he could have bought the sawmill and easily spared me the tax money, too.”

then she thought: “just imagine frank trying to operate a sawmill! god’s nightgown! if he runsthis store like a charitable institution, how could he expect to make money on a mill? the sheriffwould have it in a month. why, i could run this store better than he does! and i could run a millbetter than he could, even if i don’t know anything about the lumber business!”

a startling thought this, that a woman could handle business matters as well as or better than aman, a revolutionary thought to scarlett who had been reared in the tradition that men wereomniscient and women none too bright. of course, she had discovered that this was not altogethertrue but the pleasant fiction still stuck in her mind. never before had she put this remarkable ideainto words. she sat quite still, with the heavy book across her lap, her mouth a little open withsurprise, thinking that during the lean months at tara she had done a man’s work and done it well.

she had been brought up to believe that a woman alone could accomplish nothing, yet she hadmanaged the plantation without men to help her until will came. why, why, her mind stuttered, ibelieve women could manage everything in the world without men’s help—except having babies,and god knows, no woman in her right mind would have babies if she could help it.

with the idea that she was as capable as a man came a sudden rush of pride and a violentlonging to prove it, to make money for herself as men made money. money which would be herown, which she would neither have to ask for nor account for to any man.

“i wish i had money enough to buy that mill myself,” she said aloud and sighed. “i’d sure make it hum. and i wouldn’t let even one splinter go out on credit.”

she sighed again. there was nowhere she could get any money, so the idea was out of thequestion. frank would simply have to collect this money owing him and buy the mill. it was a sureway to make money, and when he got the mill, she would certainly find some way to make him bemore businesslike in its operation than he had been with the store.

she pulled a back page out of the ledger and began copying the list of debtors who had made nopayments in several months. she’d take the matter up with frank just as soon as she reached home.

she’d make him realize that these people had to pay their bills even if they were old friends, evenif it did embarrass him to press them for money. that would probably upset frank, for he wastimid and fond of the approbation of his friends. he was so thin skinned he’d rather lose the moneythan be businesslike about collecting it.

and he’d probably tell her that no one had any money with which to pay him. well, perhaps thatwas true. poverty was certainly no news to her. but nearly everybody had saved some silver orjewelry or was hanging on to a little real estate. frank could take them in lieu of cash.

she could imagine how frank would moan when she broached such an idea to him. take the.

jewelry and property of his friends! well, she shrugged, he can moan all he likes. i’m going to tellhim that he may be willing to stay poor for friendship’s sake but i’m not. frank will never getanywhere if he doesn’t get up some gumption. and he’s got to get somewhere! he’s got to makemoney, even if i’ve got to wear the pants in the family to make him do it.

she was writing busily, her face screwed up with the effort, her tongue clamped between herteeth, when the front door opened and a great draft of cold wind swept the store. a tall man cameinto the dingy room walking with a light indian-like tread, and looking up she saw rhett butler.

he was resplendent in new clothes and a greatcoat with a dashing cape thrown back from hisheavy shoulders. his tall hat was off in a deep bow when her eyes met his and his hand went to thebosom of a spotless pleated shirt. his white teeth gleamed startlingly against his brown face andhis bold eyes raked her.

“my dear mrs. kennedy,” he said, walking toward her. “my very dear mrs. kennedy!” and hebroke into a loud merry laugh.

at first she was as startled as if a ghost had invaded the store and then, hastily removing her footfrom beneath her, she stiffened her spine and gave him a cold stare.

“what are you doing here?”

“i called on miss pittypat and learned of your marriage and so i hastened here to congratulateyou.”

the memory of her humiliation at his hands made her go crimson with shame.

“i don’t see how you have the gall to face me!” she cried.

“on the contrary! how have you the gall to face me?”

“oh, you are the most—”

“shall we let the bugles sing truce?” he smiled down at her, a wide flashing smile that had impudence in it but no shame for his own actions or condemnation for hers. in spite of herself, shehad to smile too, but it was a wry, uncomfortable smile.

“what a pity they didn’t hang you!”

“others share your feeling, i fear. come, scarlett, relax. you look like you’d swallowed aramrod and it isn’t becoming. surely, you’ve had time to recover from my—er—my little joke.”

“joke? ha! i’ll never get over it!”

“oh, yes, you will. you are just putting on this indignant front because you think it’s proper andrespectable. may i sit down?”

“no.”

he sank into a chair beside her and grinned.

“i hear you couldn’t even wait two weeks for me,” he said and gave a mock sigh. “how fickle iswoman!”

when she did not reply he continued.

“tell me, scarlett, just between friends—between very old and very intimate friends—wouldn’tit have been wiser to wait until i got out of jail? or are the charms of wedlock with old frankkennedy more alluring than illicit relations with me?”

as always when his mockery aroused wrath within her, wrath fought with laughter at hisimpudence.

“don’t be absurd.”

“and would you mind satisfying my curiosity on one point which has bothered me for sometime? did you have no womanly repugnance, no delicate shrinking from marrying not just oneman but two for whom you had no love or even affection? or have i been misinformed about thedelicacy of our southern womanhood?”

“rhett!”

“i have my answer. i always felt that women had a hardness and endurance unknown to men,despite the pretty idea taught me in childhood that women are frail, tender, sensitive creatures. butafter all, according to the continental code of etiquette, it’s very bad form for husband and wife tolove each other. very bad taste, indeed. i always felt that the europeans had the right idea in thatmatter. marry for convenience and love for pleasure. a sensible system, don’t you think? you arecloser to the old country than i thought.”

how pleasant it would be to shout at him: “i did not marry for convenience!” but unfortunately,rhett had her there and any protest of injured innocence would only bring more barbed remarksfrom him.

“how you do run on,” she said coolly. anxious to change the subject, she asked: “how did youever get out of jail?”

“oh, that!” he answered, making an airy gesture. “not much trouble. they let me out thismorning. i employed a delicate system of blackmail on a friend in washington who is quite high in the councils of the federal government. a splendid fellow—one of the staunch union patriots fromwhom i used to buy muskets and hoop skirts for the confederacy. when my distressingpredicament was brought to his attention in the right way, he hastened to use his influence, and so iwas released. influence is everything, and guilt or innocence merely an academic question.”

“i’ll take oath you weren’t innocent.”

“no, now that i am free of the toils, i’ll frankly admit that i’m as guilty as cain. i did kill thenigger. he was uppity to a lady, and what else could a southern gentleman do? and while i’mconfessing, i must admit that i shot a yankee cavalryman after some words in a barroom. i was notcharged with that peccadillo, so perhaps some other poor devil has been hanged for it, long since.”

he was so blithe about his murders her blood chilled. words of moral indignation rose to herlips but suddenly she remembered the yankee who lay under the tangle of scuppernong vines attara. he had not been on her conscience any more than a roach upon which she might havestepped. she could not sit in judgment on rhett when she was as guilty as he.

“and, as i seem to be making a clean breast of it, i must tell you, in strictest confidence (thatmeans, don’t tell miss pittypat!) that i did have the money, safe in a bank in liverpool.”

“the money?”

“yes, the money the yankees were so curious about. scarlett, it wasn’t altogether meanness thatkept me from giving you the money you wanted. if i’d drawn a draft they could have traced itsomehow and i doubt if you’d have gotten a cent. my only hope lay in doing nothing. i knew themoney was pretty safe, for if worst came to worst, if they had located it and tried to take it awayfrom me, i would have named every yankee patriot who sold me bullets and machinery during thewar. then there would have been a stink, for some of them are high up in washington now. in fact,it was my threat to unbosom my conscience about them that got me out of jail. i—”

“do you mean you—you actually have the confederate gold?”

“not all of it. good heavens, no! there must be fifty or more ex-blockaders who have plentysalted away in nassau and england and canada. we will be pretty unpopular with theconfederates who weren’t as slick as we were. i have got close to half a million. just think, scarlett,a half-million dollars, if you’d only restrained your fiery nature and not rushed into wedlockagain!”

a half-million dollars. she felt a pang of almost physical sickness at the thought of so muchmoney. his jeering words passed over her head and she did not even hear them. it was hard tobelieve there was so much money in all this bitter and poverty-stricken world. so much money, sovery much money, and someone else had it, someone who took it lightly and didn’t need it. andshe had only a sick elderly husband and this dirty, piddling, little store between her and a hostileworld. it wasn’t fair that a reprobate like rhett butler should have so much and she, who carried soheavy a load, should have so little. she hated him, sitting there in his dandified attire, taunting her.

well, she wouldn’t swell his conceit by complimenting him on his cleverness. she longedviciously for sharp words with which to cut him.

“i suppose you think it’s honest to keep the confederate money. well, it isn’t. it’s plain out andout stealing and you know it. i wouldn’t have that on my conscience.”

“my! how sour the grapes are today!” he exclaimed, screwing up his face. “and just whom ami stealing from?”

she was silent, trying to think just whom indeed. after all, he had only done what frank haddone on a small scale.

“half the money is honestly mine,” he continued, “honestly made with the aid of honest unionpatriots who were willing to sell out the union behind its back—for one-hundred-per-cent profiton their goods. part i made out of my little investment in cotton at the beginning of the war, thecotton i bought cheap and sold for a dollar a pound when the british mills were crying for it. part igot from food speculation. why should i let the yankees have the fruits of my labor? but the restdid belong to the confederacy. it came from confederate cotton which i managed to run throughthe blockade and sell in liverpool at sky-high prices. the cotton was given me in good faith to buyleather and rifles and machinery with. and it was taken by me in good, faith to buy the same. myorders were to leave the gold in english banks, under my own name, in order that my credit wouldbe good. you remember when the blockade tightened, i couldn’t get a boat out of any confederateport or into one, so there the money stayed in england. what should i have done? drawn out allthat gold from english banks, like a simpleton, and tried to run it into wilmington? and let theyankees capture it? was it my fault that the blockade got too tight? was it my fault that our causefailed? the money belonged to the confederacy. well, there is no confederacy now—thoughyou’d never know it, to hear some people talk. whom shall i give the money to? the yankeegovernment? i should so hate for people to think me a thief.”

he removed a leather case from his pocket, extracted a long cigar and smelled it approvingly,meanwhile watching her with pseudo anxiety as if he hung on her words.

plague take him, she thought, he’s always one jump ahead of me. there is always somethingwrong with his arguments but i never can put my finger on just what it is.

“you might,” she said with dignity, “distribute it to those who are in need. the confederacy isgone but there are plenty of confederates and their families who are starving.”

he threw back his head and laughed rudely.

“you are never so charming or so absurd as when you are airing some hypocrisy like that,” hecried in frank enjoyment. “always tell the truth, scarlett. you can’t lie. the irish are the poorestliars in the world. come now, be frank. you gave damn about the late lamented confederacyandyoucarelessaboutthestarvingconfe(never) derates.(a) you’d scream in protest if i evensuggested giving away all the money unless i started off by giving you the lion’s share.”

“i don’t want your money,” she began, trying to be coldly dignified.

“oh, don’t you! your palm is itching to beat the band this minute. if i showed you a quarter,you’d leap on it.”

if you have come here to insult me and laugh at my poverty, i will wish you good day,” sheretorted, trying to rid her lap of the heavy ledger so she might rise and make her words moreimpressive. instantly, he was on his feet bending over her, laughing as he pushed her back into herchair.

“when will you ever get over losing your temper when you hear the truth? you never mindspeaking the truth about other people, so why should you mind hearing it about yourself? i’m notinsulting you. i think acquisitiveness is a very fine quality.”

she was not sure what acquisitiveness meant but as he praised it she felt slightly mollified.

“i didn’t come to gloat over your poverty but to wish you long life and happiness in yourmarriage. by the way, what did sister sue think of your larceny?”

“my what?”

“your stealing frank from under her nose.”

“i did not—”

“well, we won’t quibble about the word. what did she say?”

“she said nothing,” said scarlett. his eyes danced as they gave her the lie.

“how unselfish of her. now, let’s hear about your poverty. surely i have the right to know, afteryour little trip out to the jail not long ago. hasn’t frank as much money as you hoped?”

there was no evading his impudence. either she would have to put up with it or ask him toleave. and now she did not want him to leave. his words were barbed but they were the barbs oftruth. he knew what she had done and why she had done it and he did not seem to think the less ofher for it. and though his questions were unpleasantly blunt, they seemed actuated by a friendlyinterest. he was one person to whom she could tell the truth. that would be, a relief, for it hadbeen so long since she had told anyone the truth about herself and her motives. whenever shespoke her mind everyone seemed to be shocked. talking to rhett was comparable only to onething, the feeling of ease and comfort afforded by a pair of old slippers after dancing in a pair tootight.

“didn’t you get the money for the taxes? don’t tell me the wolf is still at the door of tara.”

there was a different tone in his voice.

she looked up to meet his dark eyes and caught an expression which startled and puzzled her atfirst, and then made her suddenly smile, a sweet and charming smile which was seldom on her facethese days. what a perverse wretch he was, but how nice he could be at times! she knew now thatthe real reason for his call was not to tease her but to make sure she had gotten the money forwhich she had been so desperate. she knew now that he had hurried to her as soon as he wasreleased, without the slightest appearance of hurry, to tend her the money if she still needed it. andyet he would torment and insult her and deny that such was his intent, should she accuse him. hewas quite beyond all comprehension. did he really care about her, more than he was willing toadmit? or did he have some other motive? probably the latter, she thought. but who could tell? hedid such strange things sometimes.

“no,” she said, “the wolf isn’t at the door any longer. i—i got the money.”

“but not without a struggle, i’ll warrant. did you manage to restrain yourself until you got thewedding ring on your finger?”

she tried not to smile at his accurate summing up of her conduct but she could not help dimpling. he seated himself again, sprawling his long legs comfortably.

“well, tell me about your poverty. did frank, the brute, mislead you about his prospects? heshould be soundly thrashed for taking advantage of a helpless female. come, scarlett. tell meeverything. you should have no secrets from me. surely, i know the worst about you.”

“oh, rhett. you’re the worst—well, i don’t know what! no, he didn’t exactly fool me but—”

suddenly it became a pleasure to unburden herself. “rhett, if frank would just collect the moneypeople owe him, i wouldn’t be worried about anything. but, rhett, fifty people owe him and hewon’t press them. he’s so thin skinned. he says a gentleman can’t do that to another gentleman.

and it may be months and may be never before we get the money.”

“well, what of it? haven’t you enough to eat on until he does collect?”

“yes, but—well, as a matter of fact, i could use a little money right now.” her eyes brightenedas she thought of the mill. perhaps—“what for? more taxes?”

“is that any of your business?”

“yes, because you are getting ready to touch me for a loan. oh, i know all the approaches. andi’ll lend it to you—without, my dear mrs. kennedy, that charming collateral you offered me ashort while ago. unless, of course, you insist.”

“you are the coarsest—”

“not at all. i merely wanted to set your mind at ease. i knew you’d be worried about that point.

not much worried but a little. and i’m willing to lend you the money. but i do want to know howyou are going to spend it. i have that right, i believe. if it’s to buy you pretty frocks or a carriage,take it with my blessing. but if it’s to buy a new pair of breeches for ashley wilkes, i fear i mustdecline to lend it.”

she was hot with sudden rage and she stuttered until words came.

“ashley wilkes has never taken a cent from me! i couldn’t make him take a cent if he werestarving! you don’t understand him, how honorable, how proud he is! of course, you can’tunderstand him, being what you are—”

“don’t let’s begin calling names. i could call you a few that would match any you could think offor me. you forget that i have been keeping up with you through miss pittypat, and the dear soultells all she knows to any sympathetic listener. i know that ashley has been at tara ever since hecame home from rock island. i know that you have even put up with having his wife around,which must have been a strain on you.”

“ashley is—”

“oh, yes,” he said, waving his hand negligently. “ashley is too sublime for my earthycomprehension. but please don’t forget i was an interested witness to your tender scene with himat twelve oaks and something tells me he hasn’t changed since then. and neither have you. hedidn’t cut so sublime a figure that day, if i remember rightly. and i don’t think the figure he cutsnow is much better. why doesn’t he take his family and get out and find work? and stop living at tara? of course, it’s just a whim of mine, but i don’t intend to tend you a cent for tara to helpsupport him. among men, there’s a very unpleasant name for men who permit women to supportthem.”

“how dare you say such things? he’s been working like a field hand!” for all her rage, her heartwas wrung by the memory of ashley splitting fence rails.

“and worth his weight in gold, i dare say. what a hand he must be with the manure and—”

“he’s—”

“oh, yes, i know. let’s grant that he does the best he can but i don’t imagine he’s much help.

you’ll never make a farm hand out of a wilkes—or anything else that’s useful. the breed is purelyornamental. now, quiet your ruffled feathers and overlook my boorish remarks about the proudand honorable ashley. strange how these illusions will persist even in women as hard headed asyou are. how much money do you want and what do you want it for?”

when she did not answer he repeated:

“what do you want it for? and see if you can manage to tell me the truth. it will do as well as alie. in fact, better, for if you lie to me, i’ll be sure to find it out, and think how embarrassing thatwould be. always remember this, scarlett, i can stand anything from you but a lie—your dislikefor me, your tempers, all your vixenish ways, but not a lie. now what do you want it for?”

raging as she was at his attack on ashley, she would have given anything to spit on him andthrow his offer of money proudly into his mocking face. for a moment she almost did, but the coldhand of common sense held her back. she swallowed her anger with poor grace and tried toassume an expression of pleasant dignity. he leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs towardthe stove.

“if there’s one thing in the world that gives me more amusement than anything else,” heremarked, “it’s the sight of your mental struggles when a matter of principle is laid up againstsomething practical like money. of course, i know the practical in you will always win, but i keephanging around to see if your better nature won’t triumph some day. and when that day comes ishall pack my bag and leave atlanta forever. there are too many women whose better natures arealways triumphing. ... well, let’s get back to business. how much and what for?”

“i don’t know quite how much i’ll need,” she said sulkily. “but i want to buy a sawmill—and ithink i can get it cheap. and i’ll need two wagons and two mules. i want good mules, too. and ahorse and buggy for my own use.”

“a sawmill?”

“yes, and if you’ll lend me the money, i’ll give you a half-interest in it.”

“whatever would i do with a sawmill?”

“make money! we can make loads of money. or i’ll pay you interest on the loan—let’s see,what is good interest?”

“fifty per cent is considered very fine.”

“fifty—oh, but you are joking! stop laughing, you devil. i’m serious.”

“that’s why i’m laughing. i wonder if anyone but me realizes what goes on in that head back ofyour deceptively sweet face.”

“well, who cares? listen, rhett, and see if this doesn’t sound like good business to you. franktold me about this man who has a sawmill, a little one out peachtree road, and be wants to sell it.

he’s got to have cash money pretty quick and he’ll sell it cheap. there aren’t many sawmillsaround here now, and the way people are rebuilding—why, we could sell lumber sky high. theman will stay and run the mill for a wage. frank told me about it. frank would buy the millhimself if he had the money. i guess he was intending buying it with the money he gave me for thetaxes.”

“poor frank! what is he going to say when you tell him you’ve bought it yourself right out fromunder him? and how are you going to explain my lending you the money without compromisingyour reputation?”

scarlett had given no thought to this, so intent was she upon the money the mill would bring in.

“well, i just won’t tell him.”

“he’ll know you didn’t pick it off a bush.”

“i’ll tell him—why, yes, i’ll tell him i sold you my diamond earbobs. and i will give them toyou, too. that’ll be my collat—my whatchucallit.”

“i wouldn’t take your earbobs.”

“i don’t want them. i don’t like them. they aren’t really mine, anyway.”

“whose are they?”

her mind went swiftly back to the still hot noon with the country hush deep about tara and thedead man in blue sprawled in the hall.

“they were left with me—by someone who’s dead. they’re mine all right. take them. i don’twant them. i’d rather have the money for them.”

“good lord!” he cried impatiently. “don’t you ever think of anything but money?”

“no,” she replied frankly, turning hard green eyes upon him. “and if you’d been through what ihave, you wouldn’t either. i’ve found out that money is the most important thing in the world and,as god is my witness, i don’t ever intend to be without it again.”

she remembered the hot sun, the soft red earth under her sick head, the niggery smell of thecabin behind the ruins of twelve oaks, remembered the refrain her heart had beaten: i’ll never behungry again. i’ll never be hungry again,”

i’m going to have money some day, lots of it, so i can have anything i want to eat. and thenthere’ll never be any hominy or dried peas on my table. and i’m going to have pretty clothes andall of them are going to be silk—”

“all?”

“all,” she said shortly, not even troubling to blush at his implication. “i’m going to have moneyenough so the yankees can never take tara away from me. and i’m going to have a new roof for tara and a new barn and fine mules for plowing and more cotton than you ever saw. and wadeisn’t ever going to know what it means to do without the things he needs. never! he’s going tohave everything in the world. and all my family, they aren’t ever going to be hungry again. i meanit. every word. you don’t understand, you’re such selfish hound. you’ve never had thecarpetbaggerstryingtodriveyouout. you’veneverbeen(a) cold and ragged and had to break yourback to keep from starving!”

he said quietly: “i was in the confederate army for eight months. i don’t know any better placefor starving.”

“the army! bah! you’ve never had to pick cotton and weed corn. you’ve— don’t you laugh atme!”

his hands were on hers again as her voice rose harshly.

“i wasn’t laughing at you. i was laughing at the difference in what you look and what you reallyare. and i was remembering the first time i ever saw you, at the barbecue at the wilkes’. you hadon a green dress and little green slippers, and you were knee deep in men and quite full of yourself.

i’ll wager you didn’t know then how many pennies were in a dollar. there was only one idea inyour whole mind then and that was ensnaring ash—”

she jerked her hands away from him.

“rhett, if we are to get on at all, you’ll have to stop talking about ashley wilkes. we’ll alwaysfall out about him, because you can’t understand him.”

“i suppose you understand him like a book,” said rhett maliciously. “no, scarlett, if i am tolend you the money i reserve the right to discuss ashley wilkes in any terms i care to. i waive theright to collect interest on my loan but not that right. and there are a number of things about thatyoung man i’d like to know.”

“i do not have to discuss him with you,” she answered shortly.

“oh, but you do! i hold the purse strings, you see. some day when you are rich, you can havethe power to do the same to others. ... it’s obvious that you still care about him—”

“i do not.”

“oh, it’s so obvious from the way you rush to his defense. you—”

“i won’t stand having my friends sneered at.”

“well, we’ll let that pass for the moment. does he still care for you or did rock island make himforget? or perhaps he’s learned to appreciate what a jewel of a wife he has?”

at the mention of melanie, scarlett began to breathe hard and could scarcely restrain herselffrom crying out the whole story, that only honor kept ashley with melanie. she opened her mouthto speak and then closed it.

“oh. so he still hasn’t enough sense to appreciate mrs. wilkes? and the rigors of prison didn’tdim his ardor for you?”

“i see no need to discuss the subject.”

“i wish to discuss it,” said rhett. there was a low note in his voice which scarlett did notunderstand but did not like to hear. “and, by god, i will discuss it and i expect you to answer me.

so he’s still in love with you?”

“well, what if he is?” cried scarlett, goaded. “i don’t care to discuss him with you because youcan’t understand him or his kind of love. the only kind of love you know about is just—well, thekind you carry on with creatures like that watling woman.”

“oh,” said rhett softly. “so i am only capable of carnal lusts?”

“well, you know it’s true.”

“now i appreciate your hesitance in discussing the matter with me. my unclean hands and lipsbesmirch the purity of his love.”

“well, yes—something like that.”

“i’m interested in this pure love—”

“don’t be so nasty, rhett butler. if you are vile enough to think there’s ever been anythingwrong between us—”

“oh, the thought never entered my head, really. that’s why it all interests me. just why hasn’tthere been anything wrong between you?”

“if you think that ashley would—”

“ah, so it’s ashley, and not you, who has fought the fight for purity. really, scarlett, you shouldnot give yourself away so easily.”

scarlett looked into his smooth unreadable face in confusion and indignation.

“we won’t go any further with this and i don’t want your money. so, get out!”

“oh, yes, you do want my money and, as we’ve gone this far, why stop? surely there can be noharm in discussing so chaste an idyll—when there hasn’t been anything wrong. so ashley lovesyou for your mind, your soul, your nobility of character?”

scarlett writhed at his words. of course, ashley loved her for just these things. it was thisknowledge that made life endurable, this knowledge that ashley, bound by honor, loved her fromafar for beautiful things deep buried in her that he alone could see. but they did not seem sobeautiful when dragged to the light by rhett, especially in that deceptively smooth voice thatcovered sarcasm.

“it gives me back my boyish ideals to know that such a love can exist in this naughty world,” hecontinued. “so there’s no touch of the flesh in his love for you? it would be the same if you wereugly and didn’t have that white skin? and if you didn’t have those green eyes which make a manwonder just what you would do if he took you in his arms? and a way of swaying your hips, that’san allurement to any man under ninety? and those lips which are—well, i mustn’t let my carnallusts obtrude. ashley sees none of these things? or if he sees them, they move him not at all?”

unbidden, scarlett’s mind went back to that day in the orchard when ashley’s arms shook as heheld her, when his mouth was hot on hers as if he would never let her go. she went crimson at the memory and her blush was not lost on rhett.

“so,” he said and there was a vibrant note almost like anger in his voice. “i see. he loves you foryour mind alone.”

how dare he pry with dirty fingers, making the one beautiful sacred thing in her life seem vile?

coolly, determinedly, he was breaking down the last of her reserves and the information he wantedwas forthcoming.

“yes, he does!” she cried, pushing back the memory of ashley’s lips.

“my dear, he doesn’t even know you’ve got a mind. if it was your mind that attracted him, hewould not need to struggle against you, as he must have done to keep this love so—shall we say“holy”? he could rest easily for, after all, a man can admire a woman’s mind and soul and still bean honorable gentleman and true to his wife. but it must be difficult for him to reconcile the honorof the wilkeses with coveting your body as he does.”

“you judge everybody’s mind by your own vile one!”

“oh, i’ve never denied coveting you, if that’s what you mean. but, thank god, i’m not botheredabout matters of honor. what i want i take if i can get it, and so i wrestle neither with angels nordevils. what a merry hell you must have made for ashley! almost i can be sorry for him.”

“i—i make a hell for him?”

“yes, you! there you are, a constant temptation to him, but like most of his breed he preferswhat passes in these parts as honor to any amount of love. and it looks to me as if the poor devilnow had neither love nor honor to warm himself!”

“he has love! ... i mean, he loves me!”

“does he? then answer me this and we are through for the day and you can take the money andthrow it in the gutter for all i care.”

rhett rose to his feet and threw his half-smoked cigar into the spittoon. there was about hismovements the same pagan freedom and leashed power scarlett had noted that night atlanta fell,something sinister and a little frightening. “if he loved you, then why in hell did he permit you tocome to atlanta to get the tax money? before i’d let a woman i loved do that, i’d—”

“he didn’t know! he had no idea that i—”

“doesn’t it occur to you that he should have known?” there was barely suppressed savagery inhis voice. “loving you as you say he does, he should have known just what you would do whenyou were desperate. he should have killed you rather than let you come up here—and to me, of allpeople! god in heaven!”

“but he didn’t know!”

“if he didn’t guess it without being told, he’ll never know anything about you and your preciousmind.”

how unfair he was! as if ashley was a mind reader! as if ashley could have stopped her, evenhad he known! but, she knew suddenly, ashley could have stopped her. the faintest intimation from him, in the orchard, that some day things might be different and she would never havethought of going to rhett. a word of tenderness, even a parting caress when she was getting on thetrain, would have held her back. but he had only talked of honor. yet—was rhett right? shouldashley have known her mind? swiftly she put the disloyal thought from her. of course, he didn’tsuspect. ashley would never suspect that she would even think of doing anything so immoral.

ashley was too fine to have such thoughts. rhett was just trying to spoil her love. he was trying totear down what was most precious to her. some day, she thought viciously, when the store was onits feet and the mill doing nicely and she had money, she would make rhett butler pay for themisery and humiliation he was causing her.

he was standing over her, looking down at her, faintly amused. the emotion which had stirredhim was gone.

“what does it all matter to you anyway?” she asked. “it’s my business and ashley’s and notyours.”

he shrugged.

“only this. i have a deep and impersonal admiration for your endurance, scarlett, and i do notlike to see your spirit crushed beneath too many millstones. there’s tara. that’s a man-sized job initself. there’s your sick father added on. he’ll never be any help to you. and the girls and thedarkies. and now you’ve taken on a husband and probably miss pittypat, too. you’ve enoughburdens without ashley wilkes and his family on your hands.”

“he’s not on my hands. he helps—”

“oh, for god’s sake,” he said impatiently. “don’t let’s have any more of that. he’s no help. he’son your hands and he’ll be on them, or on somebody’s, till he dies. personally, i’m sick of him as atopic of conversation. ... how much money do you want?”

vituperative words rushed to her lips. after all his insults, after dragging from her those thingswhich were most precious to her and trampling on them, he still thought she would take hismoney!

but the words were checked unspoken. how wonderful it would be to scorn his offer and orderhim out of the store! but only the truly rich and the truly secure could afford this luxury. so long asshe was poor, just so long would she have to endure such scenes as this. but when she was rich—oh, what a beautiful warming thought that was!—when she was rich, she wouldn’t stand anythingshe didn’t like, do without anything she desired or even be polite to people unless they pleased her.

i shall tell them all to go to halifax, she thought, and rhett butler will be the first one!

the pleasure in the thought brought a sparkle into her green eyes and a half-smile to her lips.

rhett smiled too.

“you’re a pretty person, scarlett,” he said. “especially when you are meditating devilment. andjust for the sight of that dimple i’ll buy you a baker’s dozen of mules if you want them.”

the front door opened and the counter boy entered, picking his teeth with a quill. scarlett rose,pulled her shawl about her and tied her bonnet strings firmly under her chin. her mind was madeup.

“are you busy this afternoon? can you come with me now?” she asked.

“where?”

“i want you to drive to the mill with me. i promised frank i wouldn’t drive out of town bymyself.”

“to the mill in this rain?”

“yes, i want to buy that mill now, before you change your mind.”

he laughed so loudly the boy behind the counter started and looked at him curiously.

“have you forgotten you are married? mrs. kennedy can’t afford to be seen driving out into thecountry with that butler reprobate, who isn’t received in the best parlors. have you forgotten yourreputation?”

“reputation, fiddle-dee-dee! i want that mill before you change your mind or frank finds outthat i’m buying it. don’t be a slow poke, rhett. what’s a little rain? let’s hurry.”

that sawmill! frank groaned every time he thought of it, cursing himself for ever mentioning itto her. it was bad enough for her to sell her earrings to captain butler (of all people!) and buy themill without even consulting her own husband about it, but it was worse still that she did not turn itover to him to operate. that looked bad. as if she did not trust him or his judgment.

frank, in common with all men he knew, felt that a wife should be guided by her husband’ssuperior knowledge, should accept his opinions in full and have none of her own. he would havegiven most women their own way. women were such funny little creatures and it never hurt tohumor their small whims. mild and gentle by nature, it was not in him to deny a wife much. hewould have enjoyed gratifying the foolish notions of some soft little person and scolding herlovingly for her stupidity and extravagance. but the things scarlett set her mind on wereunthinkable.

that sawmill, for example. it was the shock of his life when she told him with a sweet smile, inanswer to his questions, that she intended to run it herself. “go into the lumber business myself,”

was the way she put it. frank would never forget the horror of that moment. go into business forherself! it was unthinkable. there were no women in business in atlanta. in fact, frank had neverheard of a woman in business anywhere. if women were so unfortunate as to be compelled to makea little money to assist their families in these hard times, they made it in quiet womanly ways—baking as mrs. merriwether was doing, or painting china and sewing and keeping boarders, likemrs. elsing and fanny, or teaching school like mrs. meade or giving music lessons like mrs.

bonnell. these ladies made money but they kept themselves at home while they did it, as a womanshould. but for a woman to leave the protection of her home and venture out into the rough worldof men, competing with them in business, rubbing shoulders with them, being exposed to insultand gossip ... especially when she wasn’t forced to do it, when she had a husband amply able toprovide for her!

frank had hoped she was only