Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Маргарет Митчелл

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СКАЧАТЬ courage to say what they think. But you, my dear Miss O’Hara, are a girl of rare spirit, and I take off my hat to you. I can’t understand what charms the elegant Mr. Wilkes can hold for a girl of your nature. He should thank God for a girl with your – how did he put it? – ‘passion for living,’ but being a poor-spirited wretch —”

      “You aren’t fit to wipe his boots!” she shouted in rage.

      He sank down on the sofa and she heard him laughing.

      If she could have killed him, she would have done it. Instead, she walked out of the room with dignity and banged the heavy door behind her.

      She went up the stairs so swiftly that when she reached the landing, she thought she was going to faint.

      She tried to quiet her heart, for she knew she must look like a crazy woman. If any of the girls were awake, they’d know something was wrong. And no one must ever, ever know that anything had happened.

      Through the wide window she could see the men still lounging in their chairs under the trees. As she stood watching them, she heard the rapid pounding of a horse’s hooves on the front drive and a man on horseback galloped over the green lawn toward the group under the trees.

      She could not recognize him, but the crowd gathered around him. In spite of the distance, she could hear the hubbub of voices. As she watched, the four Tarletons followed by the Fontaine boys broke from the group and ran toward the stable, yelling, “Jeems! Saddle the horses!”

      “Somebody’s house must have caught fire,” Scarlett thought. But fire or no fire, her job was to get herself back into the bedroom before she was discovered.

      Her heart was quieter now and she went up the steps into the silent hall. Carefully, she opened the door of the dressing room and slipped in. Honey Wilkes’ voice, almost in a whisper, came to her through the crack of the opposite door leading into the bedroom.

      “I think Scarlett acted as fast as a girl could act today.”

      Scarlett felt her heart begin its mad racing again. But the next voice made her pause as she heard Melanie’s voice.

      “Oh, Honey, no! Don’t be unkind. She’s just vivacious. I thought her most charming.”

      “Well, Miss,” said Honey tartly, her voice rising, “you must be blind. Well, you saw how she was carrying on with every man she could get hold of – even Mr. Kennedy and he’s her own sister’s beau. I never saw the like! And she certainly was going after Charles.” Honey giggled self-consciously. “And you know, Charles and I —”

      “Are you really?” whispered other voices excitedly.

      “Well, don’t tell anybody, girls – not yet!”

      There were more giggling, then Melanie murmured something about how happy she was that Honey would be her sister.

      “Well, I won’t be happy to have Scarlett for my sister, because she’s a fast piece[23]. And if you should ask me,” said Honey with mysterious importance, “there’s only one person she cares about. And that’s Ashley!”

      Scarlett felt herself go cold with fear and humiliation. Honey was a fool, a silly, but she had a feminine instinct about other women that Scarlett had underestimated.

      Melanie’s voice, peaceful and a little reproving, rose above the others.

      “Honey, you know that isn’t so. And it’s so unkind.”

      “It is true, Melly, and if you weren’t always looking for the good in people that haven’t got any good in them, you’d see it. And I’m glad it’s so. It serves her right[24]. All Scarlett O’Hara has ever done has been to make trouble and try to get other girls’ beaux.”

      “I must get home!” thought Scarlett. “I must get home!”

      If she could only be transferred by magic to Tara and to safety. If she could only be with Ellen, just to see her, to hold onto her skirt, to cry and pour out the whole story.

      Home, she thought, as she sped down the hall, I must go home.

      She was already on the front porch when a new thought came – she couldn’t go home! To run away would only give them more evidence.

      She pounded her clenched fist against the tall white pillar beside her. She’d make them sorry. She’d show them. She didn’t quite see how she’d show them, but she’d do it all the same. She’d hurt them worse than they hurt her.

      For the moment, Ashley was forgotten. Vanity was stronger than love at sixteen and there was no room in her hot heart now for anything but hate.

      “I won’t go home,” she thought. “I’ll stay here and I’ll make them sorry. And I’ll never tell Mother. No, I’ll never tell anybody.”

      As she turned, she saw Charles coming into the house from the other end of the long hall. When he saw her, he hurried toward her. His face was red with excitement.

      “Do you know what’s happened?” he cried, even before he reached her. “Have you heard?”

      He paused, breathless, as he came up to her. She said nothing and only stared at him.

      “Mr. Lincoln has called for men, soldiers – I mean volunteers – seventy-five thousand of them!”

      Mr. Lincoln again! Didn’t men ever think about anything that really mattered? Here was this fool expecting her to be excited about Mr. Lincoln’s didoes when her heart was broken and her reputation almost ruined.

      Charles stared at her. Her face was paper white and her narrow eyes blazing like emeralds.

      “I’m so clumsy,” he said. “I should have told you more gently. I’m sorry I’ve upset you so. You don’t feel faint, do you? Can I get you a glass of water?”

      “No,” she said, and managed a crooked smile.

      “Shall we go sit on the bench?” he asked, taking her arm.

      She nodded and he carefully led her across the grass to the iron bench beneath the largest oak in the front yard. How fragile and tender women are, he thought, the mere mention of war makes them faint. The idea made him feel very masculine.

      “He has a lot of money,” she was thinking fast. “And he hasn’t any parents to bother me and he lives in Atlanta. And if I married him right away, it would show Ashley that I didn’t care – that I was only flirting with him. And it would just kill Honey. She’d never, never catch another beau. And it would hurt Melanie, because she loves Charles so much. “And they’d all be sorry when I came back here to visit in a fine carriage and with lots of pretty clothes and a house of my own. And they would never, never laugh at me.”

      “Of course, it will mean fighting,” said Charles. “But don’t you worry, Miss Scarlett, it’ll be over in a month. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I’m afraid there won’t be much of a ball tonight, because the Troop is going to meet at Jonesboro. The Tarleton boys have gone to spread the news. I know the ladies will be sorry.”

      Coolness was beginning to come back to her. Why not take this pretty boy? He was as good as anyone else and she didn’t care.

      “Will СКАЧАТЬ