Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell Read Free Book Online Page A

your shawl?”
    Seeing that he was employing familiar maneuvers to extricate himself from unpleasant conversation, she slipped her arm through his and said: “I was waiting for you. I didn’t know you would be so late. I just wondered if you had bought Dilcey.”
    “Bought her I did, and the price has ruined me. Bought her and her little wench, Prissy. John Wilkes was for almost giving them away, but never will I have it said that Gerald O’Hara used friendship in a trade. I made him take three thousand for the two of them.”
    “In the name of Heaven, Pa, three thousand! And you didn’t need to buy Prissy!”
    “Has the time come when me own daughters sit in judgment on me?” shouted Gerald rhetorically. “Prissy is a likely little wench and so —”
    “I know her. She’s a sly, stupid creature,” Scarlett rejoined calmly, unimpressed by his uproar. “And the only reason you bought her was because Dilcey asked you to buy her.”
    Gerald looked crestfallen and embarrassed, as always when caught in a kind deed, and Scarlett laughed outright at his transparency.
    “Well, what if I did? Was there any use buying Dilcey if she was going to mope about the child? Well, never again will I let a darky on this place marry off it. It’s too expensive. Well, come on, Puss, let’s go in to supper.”
    The shadows were falling thicker now, the last greenish tinge had left the sky and a slight chill was displacing the balminess of spring. But Scarlett loitered, wondering how to bring up the subject of Ashley without permitting Gerald to suspect her motive. This was difficult, for Scarlett had not a subtle bone in her body; and Gerald was so much like her he never failed to penetrate her weak subterfuges, even as she penetrated his. And he was seldom tactful in doing it.
    “How are they all over at Twelve Oaks?”
    “About as usual. Cade Calvert was there and, after I settled about Dilcey, we all set on the gallery and had several toddies. Cade has just come from Atlanta, and it’s all upset they are there and talking war and —”
    Scarlett sighed. If Gerald once got on the subject of war and secession, it would be hours before he relinquished it She broke in with another line.
    “Did they say anything about the barbecue tomorrow?”
    “Now that I think of it they did. Miss — what’s-her-name — the sweet little thing who was here last year, you know, Ashley’s cousin — oh, yes, Miss Melanie Hamilton, that’s the name — she and her brother Charles have already come from Atlanta and —”
    “Oh, so she did come?”
    “She did, and a sweet quiet thing she is, with never a word to say for herself, like a woman should be. Come now, daughter, don’t lag. Your mother will be hunting for us.”
    Scarlett’s heart sank at the news. She had hoped against hope that something would keep Melanie Hamilton in Atlanta where she belonged, and the knowledge that even her father approved of her sweet quiet nature, so different from her own, forced her into the open.
    “Was Ashley there, too?”
    “He was.” Gerald let go of his daughter’s arm and turned, peering sharply into her face. “And if that’s why you came out here to wait for me, why didn’t you say so without beating around the bush?”
    Scarlett could think of nothing to say, and she felt her face growing red with annoyance.
    “Well, speak up.”
    Still she said nothing, wishing that it was permissible to shake one’s father and tell him to hush his mouth.
    “He was there and he asked most kindly after you, as did his sisters, and said they hoped nothing would keep you from the barbecue tomorrow. I’ll warrant nothing will,” he said shrewdly. “And now, daughter, what’s all this about you and Ashley?”
    “There is nothing,” she said shortly, tugging at his arm. “Let’s go in, Pa.”
    “So now ‘tis you wanting to go in,” he observed. “But here I’m going to stand till I’m understanding you. Now that I think of it ‘tis strange