"Not Melly! Oh, not Melly! What's happened to her?"
"She's had a miscarriage."
"A -- a-mis -- but, Rhett, she --" Scarlett floundered. This information on top of the horror of his announcement took her breath away.
"You did not k
now she was going to have a baby?"
She could not even shake her head.
"Ah, well. I suppose not. I don't think she told anyone. She wanted it to be a surprise. But I knew."
"You knew? But surely she didn't tell you!"
She didn't have to tell me. I knew. She's been so -- happy these last two months I knew it couldn't mean anything else."
"But Rhett, the doctor said it would kill her to have another baby!"
"It has killed her," said Rhett. And to the coachman: "For God's sake, can't you drive faster?"
"But, Rhett, she can't be dying! I -- I didn't and I --"
"She hasn't your strength. She's never had any strength. She's never had anything but heart."
The carriage rocked to a standstill in front of the flat little house and Rhett handed her out. Trembling, frightened, a sudden feeling of loneliness upon her, she clasped his arm.
"You're coming in, Rhett?"
"No," he said and got back into the carriage.
She flew up the front steps, across the porch and threw open the door. There, in the yellow lamplight were Ashley, Aunt Pitty and India. Scarlett thought: "What's India doing here? Melanie told her never to set foot in this house again." The three rose at the sight of her, Aunt Pitty biting her trembling lips to still them, India staring at her, grief stricken and without hate. Ashley looked dull as a sleepwalker and, as he came to her and put his hand upon her arm, he spoke like a sleepwalker.
"She asked for you," he said. "She asked for you."
"Can I see her now?" She turned toward the closed door of Melanie's room.
"No. Dr. Meade is in there now. I'm glad you've come, Scarlett"
"I came as quickly as I could." Scarlett shed her bonnet and her cloak. "The train -- She isn't really -- Tell me, she's better, isn't she, Ashley? Speak to me! Don't look like that! She isn't really --"
"She kept asking for you," said Ashley and looked her in the eyes. And, in his eyes she saw the answer to her question. For a moment, her heart stood still and then a queer fear, stronger than anxiety, stronger than grief, began to beat in her breast. It can't be true, she thought vehemently, trying to push back the fear. Doctors make mistakes. I won't think it's true. I can't let myself think it's true. I'll scream if I do. I must think of something else.
"I don't believe it!" she cried stormily, looking into the three drawn faces as though defying them to contradict her. "And why didn't Melanie tell me? I'd never have gone to Marietta if I'd known!"
Ashley's eyes awoke and were tormented.
"She didn't tell anyone, Scarlett, especially not you. She was afraid you'd scold her if you knew. She wanted to wait three -- till she thought it safe and sure and then surprise you all and laugh and say how wrong the doctors had been. And she was so happy. You know how she was about babies -- how much she's wanted a little girl. And everything went so well until -- and then for no reason at all --"
The door of Melanie's room opened quietly and Dr. Meade came out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He stood for a moment, his gray beard sunk on his chest, and looked at the suddenly frozen four. His gaze fell last on Scarlett. As he came toward her, she saw that there was grief in his eyes and also dislike and contempt that flooded her frightened heart with guilt.
"So you finally got here," he said.
Before she could answer, Ashley started toward the closed door.
"Not you, yet," said the doctor. "She wants to speak to Scarlett."
"Doctor," said India, putting a hand on his sleeve. Though her voice was toneless, it plead more loudly than words. "Let me see her for a moment. I've been here since this morning, waiting, but she -- Let me see her for a moment. I want to tell her -- must tell her -- that I was wrong about -- something."