In your suit of gray,
When you vowed from me and country
Ne'er to go astray.
Weeping sad and lonely.
Sighs and tears how vain!
When this cruel war is over
Pray that we meet again!"
"Of course, it was 'suit of blue' but we changed it to 'gray.' ... Oh, you waltz so well, Captain Butler. Most big men don't, you know. And to think it will be years and years before I'll dance again,"
"It will only be a few minutes. I'm going to bid you in for the next reel -- and the next and the next."
"Oh, no, I couldn't! You mustn't! My reputation will be mined."
"It's in shreds already, so what does another dance matter? Maybe I'll give the other boys a chance after I've had five or six, but I must have the last one."
"Oh, all right. I know I'm crazy but I don't care. I don't care a bit what anybody says. I'm so tired of sitting at home. I'm going to dance and dance --"
"And not wear black? I loathe funeral crepe."
"Oh, I couldn't take off mourning -- Captain Butler, you must not hold me so tightly. I'll be mad at you if you do."
"And you look gorgeous when you are mad. I'll squeeze you again -- there -- just to see if you will really get mad. You have no idea how charming you were that day at Twelve Oaks when you were mad and throwing things."
"Oh, please -- won't you forget that?"
"No, it is one of my most priceless memories -- a delicately nurtured Southern belle with her Irish up -- You are very Irish, you know."
"Oh, dear, there's the end of the music and there's Aunt Pittypat coming out of the back room. I know Mrs. Merriwether must have told her. Oh, for goodness' sakes, let's walk over and look out the window. I don't want her to catch me now. Her eyes are as big as saucers."
CHAPTER X
OVER THE WAFFLES next morning, Pittypat was lachrymose, Melanie was silent and Scarlett defiant.
"I don't care if they do talk. I'll bet I made more money for the hospital than any girl there -- more than all the messy old stuff we sold, too."
"Oh, dear, what does the money matter?" wailed Pittypat, wringing her hands. "I just couldn't believe my eyes, and poor Charlie hardly dead a year. ... And that awful Captain Butler, making you so conspicuous, and he's a terrible, terrible person, Scarlett. Mrs. Whiting's cousin, Mrs. Coleman, whose husband came from Charleston, told me about him. He's the black sheep of a lovely family -- oh, how could any of the Butlers ever turn out anything like him? He isn't received in Charleston and he has the fastest reputation and there was something about a girl -- something so bad Mrs. Coleman didn't even know what it was --"
"Oh, I can't believe he's that bad," said Melly gently. "He seemed a perfect gentleman and when you think how brave he's been, running the blockade --"
"He isn't brave," said Scarlett perversely, pouring half a pitcher of syrup over her waffles. "He just does it for money. He told me so. He doesn't care anything about the Confederacy and he says we're going to get licked. But he dances divinely."
Her audience was speechless with horror.
"I'm tired of sitting at home and I'm not going to do it any longer. If they all talked about me about last night, then my reputation is already gone and it won't matter what else they say."
It did not occur to her that the idea was Rhett Butler's. It came so patly and fitted so well with what she was thinking.
"Oh! What will your mother say when she hears? What will she think of me?"
A cold qualm of guilt assailed Scarlett at the thought of Ellen's consternation, should she ever learn of her daughter's scandalous conduct. But she took heart at the thought of the twenty-five miles between Atlanta and Tara. Miss Pitty certainly wouldn't tell Ellen. It would put her in such a bad light as a chaperon. And if Pitty didn't tattle, she was safe.
"I think --" said Pitty, "yes, I think I'd better write Henry a letter about it -- much as I hate it -- but he's our only male relative, and make him go speak reprovingly to Captain Butler -- Oh, dear, if Charlie were only alive -- You must never, never speak to that man again, Scarlett."