Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром

“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 - худая как щепка] 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 and smooth my hair,” she told Stuart and Brent, who were trying to get her cornered from the crowd.

Scarlett started up the wide stairs. As she did, a shy voice behind her called her name and, turning, she saw Charles Hamilton. He was a nice-looking boy with soft brown curls and deep brown eyes. A faint blush went over his face for he was timid with girls.

“Why, Charles Hamilton, you handsome old thing, you! I’ll bet you came all the way down here from Atlanta just to break my poor heart!”

Charles almost stuttered, holding her warm little hands in his and looking into the dancing green eyes. This was the way girls talked to other boys but never to him. They always treated him like a younger brother. Even with Honey, who he was going to marry when he came into his property next fall, he was shy and silent. And here was Scarlett O’Hara teasing him about breaking her heart!

“Now, you wait right here till I come back, for I want to eat barbecue with you. And don’t you go off flirting with other girls, because I’m mighty jealous,” came the incredible words from red lips with a dimple on each side.

Tapping him lightly on the arm with her folded fan, she turned to start up the stairs and her eyes again fell on the man called Rhett Butler who stood alone a few feet away from Charles. Evidently he had overheard the whole conversation, for he grinned up at her.

In the bedroom, she found Cathleen Calvert standing before the mirror and biting her lips to make them look redder.

“Cathleen,” said Scarlett, “who is that nasty man downstairs named Butler?”

“My dear, he isn’t received!”

Scarlett digested this in silence, for she had never before been under the same roof with anyone who was not received. It was very exciting.

“What did he do?”

“Oh, Scarlett, he has the most terrible reputation. His name is Rhett Butler and he’s from Charleston and his folks are some of the nicest people there, but they won’t even speak to him. He was expelled from West Point. Imagine! And then there was that business about the girl he didn’t marry.”

“Do tell me!”

“Darling, don’t you know anything? Well, this Mr. Butler took a Charleston girl out buggy riding. And, my dear, they stayed out nearly all night and walked home finally, saying the horse had run away and they had gotten lost in the woods. And he refused to marry her the next day!”

“Oh,” said Scarlett.

“He said he hadn’t – er – done anything to her and he didn’t see why he should marry her. And, of course, her brother called him out, and Mr. Butler said he’d rather be shot than marry a stupid fool. And so they fought a duel and Mr. Butler shot the girl’s brother and he died, and Mr. Butler had to leave Charleston and now nobody receives him,” finished Cathleen triumphantly.

Scarlett sat on a high ottoman, under the shade of a huge oak in the back of the house. She had chosen to sit apart so she could gather about her as many men as possible.

She had never been more miserable in her life, for her plans of last night had failed utterly so far as Ashley was concerned. He had made no attempt to join the circle about her, in fact she had not had a word alone with him since arriving, or even spoken to him since their first greeting. He welcomed her when she came into the back garden, but Melanie had been on his arm then, Melanie who hardly came up to his shoulder.

She had smiled when she greeted Scarlett and told her how pretty her green dress was. Since then, Ashley had sat on a stool at Melanie’s feet and talked quietly with her, smiling the slow smile that Scarlett loved.

Scarlett tried to keep her eyes from these two but could not, and after each glance she redoubled her flirting with her cavaliers. But Ashley did not seem to notice her at all. He only looked up at Melanie and talked on, and Melanie looked down at him with an expression that she belonged to him.

So, Scarlett was miserable.

As her eyes wandered from Melanie, she caught the gaze of Rhett Butler, who was not mixing with the crowd but standing apart talking to John Wilkes. He had been watching her and when she looked at him he laughed outright. Scarlett had an uneasy feeling that this man who was not received was the only one present who knew what lay behind her wild gaiety and found that amusing. She could have clawed him with pleasure.

“If I can just live through this barbecue till this afternoon,” she thought, “all the girls will go upstairs to take naps to be fresh for tonight and I’ll stay downstairs and get to talk to Ashley. Surely he must have noticed how popular I am.” She had another hope: “Of course, he has to be attentive to Melanie because, after all, she is his cousin and she isn’t popular at all, and if he didn’t look out for her she’d just be a wallflower.”

Charles Hamilton was now firmly planted on her right. He held her fan in one hand and his untouched plate of barbecue in the other and stubbornly refused to meet the eyes of Honey. Scarlett took new courage and redoubled her efforts in the direction of Charles. It was a wonderful day for Charles, a dream day, and he had fallen in love with Scarlett with no effort at all.

When the last forkful of pork and chicken and mutton had been eaten, Scarlett hoped the time had come when India would rise and suggest that the ladies retire to the house. The barbecue was over and all were glad to have a rest while sun was at its height.

Conversation was dying out when everyone heard Gerald’s voice. Standing some little distance away from the barbecue tables, he was at the peak of an argument with John Wilkes.

“Pray for a peaceable settlement with the Yankees after we’ve fired on them at Fort Sumter? The South should show by arms that she cannot be insulted and that she is not leaving the Union by the Union’s kindness but by her own strength!”

“Oh, my God!” thought Scarlett. “He’s done it! Now, we’ll all sit here till midnight.”