It was characteristic of the regard in which Scarlett was held that

few people based their defense or their criticism of her on her

personal integrity. "I wouldn't put much beyond her," was the

universal attitude. Scarlett had made too many enemies to have

many champions now. Her words and her actions rankled in too many

hearts for many people to care whether this scandal hurt her or

not. But everyone cared violently about hurting Melanie or India

and the storm revolved around them, rather than Scarlett, centering

upon the one question--"Did India lie?"

Those who espoused Melanie's side pointed triumphantly to the fact

that Melanie was constantly with Scarlett these days. Would a

woman of Melanie's high principles champion the cause of a guilty

woman, especially a woman guilty with her own husband? No, indeed!

India was just a cracked old maid who hated Scarlett and lied about

her and induced Archie and Mrs. Elsing to believe her lies.

But, questioned India's adherents, if Scarlett isn't guilty, where

is Captain Butler? Why isn't he here at his wife's side, lending

her the strength of his countenance? That was an unanswerable

question and, as the weeks went by and the rumor spread that

Scarlett was pregnant, the pro-India group nodded with satisfaction.

It couldn't be Captain Butler's baby, they said. For too long the

fact of their estrangement had been public property. For too long

the town had been scandalized by the separate bedrooms.

So the gossip ran, tearing the town apart, tearing apart, too, the

close-knit clan of Hamiltons, Wilkeses, Burrs, Whitemans and

Winfields. Everyone in the family connection was forced to take

sides. There was no neutral ground. Melanie with cool dignity and

India with acid bitterness saw to that. But no matter which side

the relatives took, they all were resentful that Scarlett should

have been the cause of the family breach. None of them thought her

worth it. And no matter which side they took, the relatives

heartily deplored the fact that India had taken it upon herself to

wash the family dirty linen so publicly and involve Ashley in so

degrading a scandal. But now that she had spoken, many rushed to

her defense and took her side against Scarlett, even as others,

loving Melanie, stood by her and Scarlett.

Half of Atlanta was kin to or claimed kin with Melanie and India.

The ramifications of cousins, double cousins, cousins-in-law and

kissing cousins were so intricate and involved that no one but a

born Georgian could ever unravel them. They had always been a

clannish tribe, presenting an unbroken phalanx of overlapping

shields to the world in time of stress, no matter what their

private opinions of the conduct of individual kinsmen might be.

With the exception of the guerrilla warfare carried on by Aunt

Pitty against Uncle Henry, which had been a matter for hilarious

laughter within the family for years, there had never been an open

breach in the pleasant relations. They were gentle, quiet spoken,

reserved people and not given to even the amiable bickering that

characterized most Atlanta families.

But now they were split in twain and the town was privileged to

witness cousins of the fifth and sixth degree taking sides in the

most shattering scandal Atlanta had ever seen. This worked great

hardship and strained the tact and forbearance of the unrelated

half of the town, for the India-Melanie feud made a rupture in

practically every social organization. The Thalians, the Sewing

Circle for the Widows and Orphans of the Confederacy, the

Association for the Beautification of the Graves of Our Glorious

Dead, the Saturday Night Musical Circle, the Ladies' Evening

Cotillion Society, the Young Men's Library were all involved. So

were four churches with their Ladies' Aid and Missionary societies.

Great care had to be taken to avoid putting members of warring

factions on the same committees.

On their regular afternoons at home, Atlanta matrons were in

anguish from four to six o'clock for fear Melanie and Scarlett

would call at the same time India and her loyal kin were in their

parlors.

Of all the family, poor Aunt Pitty suffered the most. Pitty, who

desired nothing except to live comfortably amid the love of her

relatives, would have been very pleased, in this matter, to run

with the hares and hunt with the hounds. But neither the hares nor

the hounds would permit this.

India lived with Aunt Pitty and, if Pitty sided with Melanie, as

she wished to do, India would leave. And if India left her, what

would poor Pitty do then? She could not live alone. She would

have to get a stranger to live with her or she would have to close

up her house and go and live with Scarlett. Aunt Pitty felt

vaguely that Captain Butler would not care for this, or she would

have to go and live with Melanie and sleep in the little cubbyhole

that was Beau's nursery.

Pitty was not overly fond of India, for India intimidated her with

her dry, stiff-necked ways and her passionate convictions. But she

made it possible for Pitty to keep her own comfortable establishment

and Pitty was always swayed more by considerations of personal

comfort than by moral issues. And so India remained.

But her presence in the house made Aunt Pitty a storm center, for

both Scarlett and Melanie took that to mean that she sided with

India. Scarlett curtly refused to contribute more money to Pitty's

establishment as long as India was under the same roof. Ashley

sent India money every week and every week India proudly and

silently returned it, much to the old lady's alarm and regret.

Finances at the red-brick house would have been in a deplorable

state, but for Uncle Henry's intervention, and it humiliated Pitty

to take money from him.

Pitty loved Melanie better than anyone in the world, except

herself, and now Melly acted like a cool, polite stranger. Though

she practically lived in Pitty's back yard, she never once came

through the hedge and she used to run in and out a dozen times a

day. Pitty called on her and wept and protested her love and

devotion, but Melanie always refused to discuss matters and never

returned the calls.

Pitty knew very well what she owed Scarlett--almost her very

existence. Certainly in those black days after the war when Pitty

was faced with the alternative of Brother Henry or starvation,

Scarlett had kept her home for her, fed her, clothed her and

enabled her to hold up her head in Atlanta society. And since

Scarlett had married and moved into her own home, she had been

generosity itself. And that frightening fascinating Captain

Butler--frequently after he called with Scarlett, Pitty found

brand-new purses stuffed with bills on her console table or lace

handkerchiefs knotted about gold pieces which had been slyly

slipped into her sewing box. Rhett always vowed he knew nothing

about them and accused her, in a very unrefined way, of having a

secret admirer, usually the be-whiskered Grandpa Merriwether.

Yes, Pitty owed love to Melanie, security to Scarlett, and what did

she owe India? Nothing, except that India's presence kept her from

having to break up her pleasant life and make decisions for

herself. It was all most distressing and too, too vulgar and

Pitty, who had never made a decision for herself in her whole life,

simply let matters go on as they were and as a result spent much

time in uncomforted tears.

In the end, some people believed whole-heartedly in Scarlett's

innocence, not because of her own personal virtue but because

Melanie believed in it. Some had mental reservations but they were

courteous to Scarlett and called on her because they loved Melanie

and wished to keep her love. India's adherents bowed coldly and

some few cut her openly. These last were embarrassing, infuriating,

but Scarlett realized that, except for Melanie's championship and

her quick action, the face of the whole town would have been set

against her and she would have been an outcast.

CHAPTER LVI

Rhett was gone for three months and during that time Scarlett had

no word from him. She did not know where he was or how long he

would be gone. Indeed, she had no idea if he would ever return.

During this time, she went about her business with her head high

and her heart sick. She did not feel well physically but, forced

by Melanie, she went to the store every day and tried to keep up a

superficial interest in the mills. But the store palled on her for

the first time and, although the business was treble what it had

been the year before and the money rolling in, she could take no