style="font-size:15px;"> Scarlett started to speak sharply and then caught herself. Seeing the look on Scarlett’s face, Mammy picked up the tray and changed her tactics. As she started for the door, she sighed.
“Well’m, awright. You kin sho tell a lady by whut she doan eat. Ah ain’ seed no w’ite lady who et less’n Miss Melly Hamilton did las’ time she wuz visitin’ Mist’ Ashley’ – Ah means, visitin’ Miss India.”
Scarlett looked at her suspiciously, but Mammy’s broad face carried only a look of innocence and of regret that Scarlett was not the lady Melanie Hamilton was.
“Put down that tray and come lace me tighter,” said Scarlett irritably. “And I’ll try to eat a little afterwards. If I ate now I couldn’t lace tight enough.”
Happy with her triumph, Mammy set down the tray.
“Whut mah lamb gwine wear?”
“That,” answered Scarlett, pointing at the fluff y mass of green flowered muslin. Mammy sighed. Between the two evils[16], it was better to let Scarlett wear an afternoon dress at a morning barbecue than to let her gobble like a hog[17].
Having the laced dress on, Scarlett obediently sat down before the tray, wondering if she would be able to get any food into her stomach and still have room to breathe.
“I wish to Heaven I was married. I’m tired of being unnatural and never doing anything I want to do. I’m tired of acting like I don’t eat more than a bird, and walking when I want to run and saying I feel faint after a waltz, when I could dance for two days and never get tired. I’m tired of saying, ‘How wonderful you are!’ to fool men, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t know anything, so men can tell me things and feel important while they’re doing it.”
The carriage was taking Scarlett and her sisters down the red road toward the Wilkes plantation. Gerald rode beside the carriage on his big hunter, warm with brandy and pleased with himself that he had dismissed Jonas Wilkerson that morning so speedily. He was happy, pleasantly excited over the prospect of spending the day shouting about the Yankees and the war, and proud of his three pretty daughters. He gave no thought to his conversation of the day before with Scarlett, for it had completely slipped his mind. He only thought that she was pretty and a great credit to him and that, today, her eyes were as green as the hills of Ireland.
Scarlett, looking at him, knew that he would be very drunk by sundown. Coming home in the dark, he would try, as usual, to jump every fence between Twelve Oaks and Tara and, she hoped, would escape breaking his neck. He would ruin his new gray suit and tell Ellen how his horse fell off the bridge in the darkness – a lie which would fool no one.
Scarlett felt so excited and happy this morning that she included the whole world, as well as Gerald, in her affection. She was pretty and she knew it; she would have Ashley for her own before the day was over; the sun was warm and tender and the glory of the Georgia spring was spread before her eyes.
“I’ll remember how beautiful this day is till I die,” thought Scarlett. “Perhaps it will be my wedding day!”
And she thought how she and Ashley might ride swiftly through this beauty of blossom and greenery this very afternoon, or tonight by moonlight, toward Jonesboro and a preacher. Of course, she would have to be remarried by a priest from Atlanta. She knew Ellen would be shocked at hearing that her daughter had eloped with another girl’s fiancé but would forgive her when she saw her happiness. And Gerald would scold and bawl but finally he would be pleased at a union between his family and the Wilkes.
“But that’ll be something to worry about after I’m married,” she thought, waving the worry away from her.
As they neared the intersecting road, the sound of hooves and carriage wheels became heard and feminine voices sounded from behind the trees. Gerald, riding ahead, pulled up his horse and signed to Toby to stop the carriage where the two roads met.
“’Tis the Tarleton ladies,” he announced to his daughters, smiling, for excepting Ellen there was no lady in the County he liked more than the red-haired Mrs. Tarleton. “And ’tis herself at the reins. Ah, there’s a woman with fine hands for a horse!”
He stood up in his stirrups and took off his hat, as the Tarleton carriage, filled with girls in bright dresses and parasols came into view, with Mrs. Tarleton on the box as Gerald had said. With her four daughters, their mammy and their ball dresses in long cardboard boxes, there was no room for the coachman. And, besides, Beatrice Tarleton never willingly permitted anyone, black or white, to hold reins. She had borne eight children, as red of hair and as full of life as she, and had raised them most successfully, because she gave them all the loving neglect and the stern discipline she gave the colts she bred.
She loved horses and talked horses constantly. She understood them and handled them better than any man in the County.
She waved her whip when she saw Gerald and stopped the horses. To a casual observer it would seem that years had passed since the Tarletons had seen the O’Haras, instead of only two days. But they were a sociable family and liked their neighbors, especially the O’Hara girls. That is, they liked Suellen and Carreen. No girl in the County really liked Scarlett.
“That’s a fine bevy, Ma’m,” said Gerald gallantly. “But it’s far they’ll go to beat their mother.”
Mrs. Tarleton rolled her red-brown eyes in appreciation, and the girls cried, “Ma, stop making eyes or we’ll tell Pa!” “I vow, Mr. O’Hara, she never gives us a chance when there’s a handsome man like you around!”
Scarlett laughed with the rest at these jokes but, as always, the freedom with which the Tarletons treated their mother came as a shock. They acted as if she were one of themselves and not a day over sixteen. To Scarlett, the very idea of saying such things to her own mother was impossible. And yet – and yet – there was something very pleasant about the Tarleton girls’ relations with their mother.
“Where’s Ellen this morning?” asked Mrs. Tarleton.
“She stayed 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
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