It was hard to realize that Atlanta and not Tara was her permanent

home now. In her desperation to obtain the tax money, no thought

save Tara and the fate which threatened it had any place in her

mind. Even at the moment of marriage, she had not given a thought

to the fact that the price she was paying for the safety of home

was permanent exile from it. Now that the deed was done, she

realized this with a wave of homesickness hard to dispel. But

there it was. She had made her bargain and she intended to stand

by it. And she was so grateful to Frank for saving Tara she felt a

warm affection for him and an equally warm determination that he

should never regret marrying her.

The ladies of Atlanta knew their neighbors' business only slightly

less completely than they knew their own and were far more

interested in it. They all knew that for years Frank Kennedy had

had an "understanding" with Suellen O'Hara. In fact, he had said,

sheepishly, that he expected to get married in the spring. So the

tumult of gossip, surmise and deep suspicion which followed the

announcement of his quiet wedding to Scarlett was not surprising.

Mrs. Merriwether, who never let her curiosity go long unsatisfied

if she could help it, asked him point-blank just what he meant by

marrying one sister when he was betrothed to the other. She

reported to Mrs. Elsing that all the answer she got for her pains

was a silly look. Not even Mrs. Merriwether, doughty soul that she

was, dared to approach Scarlett on the subject. Scarlett seemed

demure and sweet enough these days, but there was a pleased

complacency in her eyes which annoyed people and she carried a chip

on her shoulder which no one cared to disturb.

She knew Atlanta was talking but she did not care. Alter all,

there wasn't anything immoral in marrying a man. Tara was safe.

Let people talk. She had too many other matters to occupy her

mind. The most important was how to make Frank realize, in a

tactful manner, that his store should bring in more money. After

the fright Jonas Wilkerson had given her, she would never rest easy

until she and Frank had some money ahead. And even if no emergency

developed, Frank would need to make more money, if she was going to

save enough for next year's taxes. Moreover, what Frank 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's money had

not been enough to pay the taxes on Tara and buy the mill as well.

And she made up her mind that he had to make more money on the

store somehow, and do it quickly, so he could buy 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

her not to bother her sweet pretty little head about business

matters. It had come as a surprise to him that she even knew what

a mortgage was and, at first, he was amused. But this amusement

quickly passed 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

could not pay just now and he was, of course, unwilling to press

old friends and gentlefolk. Frank regretted ever mentioning it

for, thereafter, she had questioned him about it again and again.

She had the most charmingly childlike air but she was just curious,

she said, to know who owed him and how much they owed. Frank was

very evasive about the matter. He coughed nervously and waved 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 for figures." In fact, a much better one than his

own and the knowledge was disquieting. He was thunderstruck to

discover that she could swiftly add a long column of figures in her

head when he needed a pencil and paper for more than three figures.

And fractions presented no difficulties to her at all. He felt

there was something unbecoming about a woman understanding

fractions and business matters and he believed that, should a woman

be so unfortunate as to have such unladylike comprehension, she

should pretend not to. Now he disliked talking business with her

as much as he had enjoyed it before they were married. Then he had

thought it all beyond her mental grasp and it had been pleasant to

explain things to her. Now he saw that she understood entirely too

well and he felt the usual masculine indignation at the duplicity

of women. Added to it was the usual 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 marrying him, no one ever knew. Perhaps the

truth dawned on him when Tony Fontaine, obviously fancy free, came

to Atlanta on business. Perhaps it was told him more directly in

letters from his sister in Jonesboro 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 would explanations do anyway, now that he was married?

He writhed inwardly at the thought that Suellen would never know

the truth and would always think he had senselessly jilted her.

Probably everyone else was thinking this too and criticizing him.

It certainly put him in an awkward position. And he had no way of

clearing himself, for a man couldn't go about saying he had lost

his head about a woman--and a gentleman couldn't advertise the fact

that his wife had entrapped him with a lie.

Scarlett was his wife and a wife was entitled to the loyalty of her

husband. Furthermore, he could 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 more pleasant 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 pretty and smart to boot, but Frank was a

gentleman and he kept his bewilderment to himself. Scarlett was

his wife and he could not insult her by asking awkward questions

which, after all, would not remedy matters.

Not that Frank especially wanted to remedy matters, for it appeared

that his marriage would be a happy 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 she had 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 and tweaked his beard until he vowed he felt

twenty years younger. She could be unexpectedly sweet and

thoughtful, having his slippers toasting at the fire when he came

home at night, fussing affectionately about his wet feet and

interminable head colds, remembering that he always liked the

gizzard of the chicken and three spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee.

Yes, life was very sweet and cozy 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 to bed. In the first year of the war, Frank

had spent two months in the hospital with pneumonia and he had

lived in dread of another attack since that time, so he was only

too glad to lie sweating under three 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 the day's

transactions, but Frank was not satisfied. He fretted until

Scarlett who had only been waiting for such an opportunity laid a

cool hand on his forehead and said: "Now, sweetheart, I shall be