If you wish to lead a reel with the lady of your choice, you must

bargain for her. I will be auctioneer and the proceeds will go to

the hospital."

Fans stopped in mid-swish and a ripple of excited murmuring ran

through the hall. The chaperons' corner was in tumult and Mrs.

Meade, anxious to support her husband in an action of which she

heartily disapproved, was at a disadvantage. Mrs. Elsing, Mrs.

Merriwether and Mrs. Whiting were red with indignation. But

suddenly the Home Guard gave a cheer and it was taken up by the

other uniformed guests. The young girls clapped their hands and

jumped excitedly.

"Don't you think it's--it's just--just a little like a slave

auction?" whispered Melanie, staring uncertainly at the embattled

doctor who heretofore had been perfect in her eyes.

Scarlett said nothing but her eyes glittered and her heart

contracted with a little pain. If only she were not a widow. If

only she were Scarlett O'Hara again, out there on the floor in an

apple-green dress with dark-green velvet ribbons dangling from her

bosom and tuberoses in her black hair--she'd lead that reel. Yes,

indeed! There'd be a dozen men battling for her and paying over

money to the doctor. Oh, to have to sit here, a wallflower

against her will and see Fanny or Maybelle lead the first reel as

the belle of Atlanta!

Above the tumult sounded the voice of the little Zouave, his

Creole accent very obvious: "Eef I may--twenty dollars for Mees

Maybelle Merriwether."

Maybelle collapsed with blushes against Fanny's shoulder and the

two girls hid their faces in each other's necks and giggled, as

other voices began calling other names, other amounts of money.

Dr. Meade had begun to smile again, ignoring completely the

indignant whispers that came from the Ladies' Hospital Committee

in the corner.

At first, Mrs. Merriwether had stated flatly and loudly that her

Maybelle would never take part in such a proceeding; but as

Maybelle's name was called most often and the amount went up to

seventy-five dollars, her protests began to dwindle. Scarlett

leaned her elbows on the counter and almost glared at the excited

laughing crowd surging about the platform, their hands full of

Confederate paper money.

Now, they would all dance--except her and the old ladies. Now

everyone would have a good time, except her. She saw Rhett Butler

standing just below the doctor and, before she could change the

expression of her face, he saw her and one corner of his mouth

went down and one eyebrow went up. She jerked her chin up and

turned away from him and suddenly she heard her own name called--

called in an unmistakable Charleston voice that rang out above the

hubbub of other names.

"Mrs. Charles Hamilton--one hundred and fifty dollars--in gold."

A sudden hush fell on the crowd both at the mention of the sum and

at the name. Scarlett was so startled she could not even move.

She remained sitting with her chin in her hands, her eyes wide

with astonishment. Everybody turned to look at her. She saw the

doctor lean down from the platform and whisper something to Rhett

Butler. Probably telling him she was in mourning and it was