Very drunk, as you doubtless know, and quite swept off my feet by

your charms--need I enumerate them?"

Suddenly she wanted to cry, to lie down on the bed and sob

endlessly. He hadn't changed, nothing had changed, and she had

been a fool, a stupid, conceited, silly fool, thinking he loved

her. It had all been one of his repulsive drunken jests. He had

taken her and used her when he was drunk, just as he would use any

woman in Belle's house. And now he was back, insulting, sardonic,

out of reach. She swallowed her tears and rallied. He must never,

never know what she had thought. How he would laugh if he knew!

Well, he'd never know. She looked up quickly at him and caught

that old, puzzling, watchful glint in his eyes--keen, eager as

though he hung on her next words, hoping they would be--what was he

hoping? That she'd make a fool out of herself and bawl and give

him something to laugh about? Not she! Her slanting brows rushed

together in a cold frown.

"I had naturally suspected what your relations with that creature

were."

"Only suspected? Why didn't you ask me and satisfy your curiosity?

I'd have told you. I've been living with her ever since the day

you and Ashley Wilkes decided that we should have separate

bedrooms."

"You have the gall to stand there and boast to me, your wife, that--"

"Oh, spare me your moral indignation. You never gave a damn what I

did as long as I paid the bills. And you know I've been no angel

recently. And as for you being my wife--you haven't been much of a

wife since Bonnie came, have you? You've been a poor investment,

Scarlett. Belle's been a better one."

"Investment? You mean you gave her--?"

"'Set her up in business' is the correct term, I believe. Belle's

a smart woman. I wanted to see her get ahead and all she needed

was money to start a house of her own. You ought to know what

miracles a woman can perform when she has a bit of cash. Look at

yourself."

"You compare me--"

"Well, you are both hard-headed business women and both successful.

Belle's got the edge on you, of course, because she's a kind-

hearted, good-natured soul--"

"Will you get out of this room?"

He lounged toward the door, one eyebrow raised quizzically. How

could he insult her so, she thought in rage and pain. He was going

out of his way to hurt and humiliate her and she writhed as she

thought how she had longed for his homecoming, while all the time

he was drunk and brawling with police in a bawdy house.

"Get out of this room and don't ever come back in it. I told you

that once before and you weren't enough of a gentleman to

understand. Hereafter I will lock my door."

"Don't bother."

"I will lock it. After the way you acted the other night--so

drunk, so disgusting--"

"Come now, darling! Not disgusting, surely!"

"Get out."

"Don't worry. I'm going. And I promise I'll never bother you

again. That's final. And I just thought I'd tell you that if my

infamous conduct was too much for you to bear, I'll let you have a

divorce. Just give me Bonnie and I won't contest it."

"I would not think of disgracing the family with a divorce."

"You'd disgrace it quick enough if Miss Melly was dead, wouldn't

you? It makes my head spin to think how quickly you'd divorce me."

"Will you go?"

"Yes, I'm going. That's what I came home to tell you. I'm going

to Charleston and New Orleans and--oh, well, a very extended trip.

I'm leaving today."

"Oh!"

"And I'm taking Bonnie with me. Get that foolish Prissy to pack

her little duds. I'll take Prissy too."

"You'll never take my child out of this house."

"My child too, Mrs. Butler. Surely you do not mind me taking her

to Charleston to see her grandmother?"

"Her grandmother, my foot! Do you think I'll let you take that

baby out of here when you'll be drunk every night and most likely

taking her to houses like that Belle's--"

He threw down the cigar violently and it smoked acridly on the

carpet, the smell of scorching wool rising to their nostrils. In

an instant he was across the floor and by her side, his face black

with fury.

"If you were a man, I would break your neck for that. As it is,

all I can say is for you to shut your God-damn mouth. Do you think

I do not love Bonnie, that I would take her where--my daughter!

Good God, you fool! And as for you, giving yourself pious airs

about your motherhood, why, a cat's a better mother than you! What

have you ever done for the children? Wade and Ella are frightened

to death of you and if it wasn't for Melanie Wilkes, they'd never

know what love and affection are. But Bonnie, my Bonnie! Do you

think I can't take better care of her than you? Do you think I'll

ever let you bully her and break her spirit, as you've broken

Wade's and Ella's? Hell, no! Have her packed up and ready for me

in an hour or I warn you what happened the other night will be mild

beside what will happen. I've always thought a good lashing with a

buggy whip would benefit you immensely."

He turned on his heel before she could speak and went out of the

room on swift feet. She heard him cross the floor of the hall to

the children's play room and open the door. There was a glad,

quick treble of childish voices and she heard Bonnie's tones rise

over Ella's.

"Daddy, where you been?"

"Hunting for a rabbit's skin to wrap my little Bonnie in. Give

your best sweetheart a kiss, Bonnie--and you too, Ella."

CHAPTER LV

"Darling, I don't want any explanation from you and I won't listen

to one," said Melanie firmly as she gently laid a small hand across

Scarlett's tortured lips and stilled her words. "You insult

yourself and Ashley and me by even thinking there could be need of

explanations between us. Why, we three have been--have been like

soldiers fighting the world together for so many years that I'm

ashamed of you for thinking idle gossip could come between us. Do

you think I'd believe that you and my Ashley-- Why, the idea!

Don't you realize I know you better than anyone in the world knows

you? Do you think I've forgotten all the wonderful, unselfish

things you've done for Ashley and Beau and me--everything from

saving my life to keeping us from starving! Do you think I could

remember you walking in a furrow behind that Yankee's horse almost

barefooted and with your hands blistered--just so the baby and I

could have something to eat--and then believe such dreadful things

about you? I don't want to hear a word out of you, Scarlett

O'Hara. Not a word."

"But--" Scarlett fumbled and stopped.

Rhett had left town the hour before with Bonnie and Prissy, and

desolation was added to Scarlett's shame and anger. The additional

burden of her guilt with Ashley and Melanie's defense was more than

she could bear. Had Melanie believed India and Archie, cut her at

the reception or even greeted her frigidly, then she could have

held her head high and fought back with every weapon in her armory.

But now, with the memory of Melanie standing between her and social

ruin, standing like a thin, shining blade, with trust and a

fighting light in her eyes, there seemed nothing honest to do but

confess. Yes, blurt out everything from that far-off beginning on

the sunny porch at Tara.

She was driven by a conscience which, though long suppressed, could

still rise up, an active Catholic conscience. "Confess your sins

and do penance for them in sorrow and contrition," Ellen had told

her a hundred times and, in this crisis, Ellen's religious training

came back and gripped her. She would confess--yes, everything,

every look and word, those few caresses--and then God would ease

her pain and give her peace. And, for her penance, there would be

the dreadful sight of Melanie's face changing from fond love and

trust to incredulous horror and repulsion. Oh, that was too hard a

penance, she thought in anguish, to have to live out her life

remembering Melanie's face, knowing that Melanie knew all the

pettiness, the meanness, the two-faced disloyalty and the hypocrisy

that were in her.

Once, the thought of flinging the truth tauntingly in Melanie's

face and seeing the collapse of her fool's paradise had been an