Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Маргарет Митчелл

home to go over the accounts with the dismissed overseer. Where’s himself and the lads?”

      “Oh, they rode over to Twelve Oaks hours ago – to sample the punch and see if it was strong enough, I dare say! I’m going to ask John Wilkes to keep them overnight, even if he has to bed them down in the stable. Five drunk men are just too much for me. Up to three, I do very well but —”

      Gerald hastily interrupted to change the subject. And he was glad when Mrs. Tarleton did it.

      “My girls have been so excited,” said Mrs. Tarleton, “ever since we heard the news this morning about Ashley and that little cousin of his from Atlanta. What’s her name? Melanie? Bless the child, she’s a sweet little thing. Everybody’s known for years that Ashley would marry her. Just like Honey Wilkes is going to marry Melanie’s brother, Charles. Now, tell me, Mr. O’Hara, is it illegal for the Wilkes to marry outside of their family? Because if —”

      Scarlett did not hear the rest of the words. For one short instant, it was as though the sun had ducked behind a cloud, leaving the world in shadow, taking the color out of things. The freshly green foliage looked faded and dreary. Scarlett dug her fingers into the upholstery of the carriage. It was one thing to know that Ashley was engaged but it was another to hear people talk about it so casually. Then her courage floated back and the sun came out again. She knew Ashley loved her. That was certain. And she smiled as she thought how surprised Mrs. Tarleton would be when no engagement was announced that night – how surprised if there were an elopement.

      “I don’t care what you say, Mr. O’Hara,” Mrs. Tarleton was saying emphatically. “It’s all wrong, this marrying of cousins. It’s bad enough for Ashley to be marrying the Hamilton child. Cousins shouldn’t marry, even second cousins. It weakens the strain. It isn’t like horses. In people it just doesn’t work. You —”

      “Now, Ma’m, I disagree with you on that! Can you name me better people than the Wilkes? And they’ve been intermarrying since long ago.”

      “And high time they stopped it, for it’s beginning to show. Oh, not Ashley so much, for he’s a good-looking devil, though even he – But look at those two washed-out-looking Wilkes girls, poor things! Nice girls, of course, but washed out. And look at little Miss Melanie. Thin as a rail[18] and delicate enough for the wind to blow away and no spirit at all. Not a notion of her own. ‘No, Ma’m!’ ‘Yes, Ma’m!’ That’s all she has to say. You see what I mean? That family needs new blood, fine vigorous blood like my red heads or your Scarlett. Now, don’t misunderstand me. The Wilkes are fine folks in their way, and you know I’m fond of them all, but be frank! I believe the stamina has been bred out of them. And their intermarrying has made them different from other folks around here. Always fiddling with the piano or sticking their heads in a book. I do believe Ashley would rather read than hunt! And just look at the bones on them. Too slender.

      “I know what I’m talking about. And when my family wanted me to marry a second cousin, I bucked like a colt. I said, ‘No, Ma. Not for me.’ Well, Ma fainted, but I stood firm and Grandma backed me up. She knew a lot about horse breeding too, you see, and said I was right. And she helped me run away with Mr. Tarleton. And look at my children! Big and healthy and not a sickly one. Now, the Wilkes —”

      “Good Heavens, Ma, do let’s get on!” Betty Tarleton cried impatiently. “This sun is broiling me.”

      “Just a minute, Ma’m, before you go,” broke in Gerald hurriedly. “Not meaning to change the subject. But what have you decided to do about selling us the horses for the Troop? War may start any day now. But you are still refusing to sell us your fine beasts.”

      “Maybe there won’t be any war,” Mrs. Tarleton said.

      “But it’s breaking me heart to see such a fine pretty lady so stingy with her beasts! Now, where’s your patriotism, Mrs. Tarleton? Does the Confederacy mean nothing to you at all?”

      “Now, listen to me, Gerald O’Hara,” she said. “Don’t you go throwing the Confederacy in my face! I think the Confederacy means as much to me as it does to you, me with four boys in the Troop and you with none. But my boys can take care of themselves and my horses can’t. I’d gladly give the horses free of charge if I knew they were going to be ridden by boys I know, gentlemen used to thoroughbreds. No, I wouldn’t hesitate a minute. But let my beauties be at the mercy of back-woodsmen who are used to riding mules! No, sir! Do you think I’d let ignorant fools ride my tender darlings and beat them till their spirits were broken? Why, I’ve got goose flesh this minute, just thinking about it! No, Mr. O’Hara, you’re mighty nice to want my horses, but you’d better go to Atlanta and buy some old plugs for your clodhoppers. They’ll never know the difference.”

      “That’s a fine woman,” said Gerald, putting on his hat and taking his place beside his own carriage. “Drive on, Toby. Of course, she’s right. If a man’s not a gentleman, he’s no business on a horse. The infantry is the place for him. But more’s the pity, there’s not enough planters’ sons in this County to make up a full troop. What did you say, Puss?”

      “Pa, please ride behind us or in front of us. You kick up such a heap of dust that we’re choking,” said Scarlett, who felt that she could endure conversation no longer. It distracted her from her thoughts and she was very anxious to arrange both her thoughts and her face in attractive lines before reaching Twelve Oaks.

      Chapter VI

      They crossed the river and the carriage mounted the hill. Even before Twelve Oaks came into view Scarlett saw smoke and smelled burning logs and roasting pork and mutton.

      Scarlett loved Twelve Oaks even more than Tara, for it had a dignity that Gerald’s house did not possess.

      The driveway was full of horses and carriages and guests alighting and calling greetings to friends. The wide hall which ran from front to back of the house was full of people, and Scarlett saw girls in crinolines, bright as butterflies, going up and coming down the stairs from the second fl oor, arms about each other’s waists, laughing and calling to young men in the hall below them.

      Through the open French windows, she saw the older women seated in the drawing room, in dark silks fanning themselves and talking of babies and sicknesses and who had married whom and why.

      The sunny front veranda was filled with guests. Yes, the whole County was here, thought Scarlett.

      On the porch steps stood John Wilkes, silver-haired, radiating the quiet charm and hospitality. Beside him Honey Wilkes fidgeted and giggled as she called greetings to the arriving guests. Her sister India was nowhere to be seen, but Scarlett knew she probably was in the kitchen giving final instructions to the servants. Poor India, thought Scarlett, she’s had so much trouble keeping house since her mother died.

      Frank Kennedy was hurrying to the carriage to assist Suellen. He might own more land than anyone in the County and might have a very kind heart, but he was forty. However, remembering her plan, Scarlett cast such a smile of greeting at him that he stopped short, his arm outheld to Suellen.

      Scarlett’s eyes searched the crowd for Ashley. Where was he? And Melanie and Charles?

      As she chattered and laughed, her eyes fell on a stranger, standing alone in the hall, staring at her in an impertinent way. He looked quite old, at least thirty-five. He was a tall man and powerfully built. Scarlett thought she had never seen a man with such wide shoulders, so heavy with muscles. When her eye caught his, he smiled, showing white teeth below a black mustache. He was dark of face. There was a cynical humor in his mouth as he smiled at her, and Scarlett caught her breath. She felt that she should be insulted by such a look and was annoyed with herself because she did not feel insulted. She did not know who he could be, but there was a look of good blood in his dark face.

      She dragged her eyes away from his without smiling back, and he turned as someone called: “Rhett! Rhett Butler! Come here!”

      Rhett Butler? The name had a familiar sound, somehow connected with something pleasantly scandalous, but her mind was on Ashley and she dismissed the thought.

      “I must run upstairs

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