Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Маргарет Митчелл

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СКАЧАТЬ the smells or the wounds. And where the wounded could see her, she was gentle, sympathetic and cheerful, and the men in the hospitals called her an angel of mercy[31].

      On three afternoons a week Scarlett had to attend sewing circles and bandage-rolling committees of Melanie’s friends. The girls who had all known Charles were very kind to her at these gatherings but treated her, as if she were old and finished. How unfair that everyone should think her heart was in the grave when it wasn’t at all! It was in Virginia with Ashley!

      But in spite of these discomforts, Atlanta pleased her very well. And her visit lengthened as the weeks went by.

      Chapter IX

      Scarlett sat in the window of her bedroom that midsummer morning and watched the wagons and carriages full of girls, soldiers and chaperons ride gaily out Peachtree road in search of decorations for the bazaar which was to be held that evening for the benefit of the hospitals. Girls in flowered cotton dresses, elderly ladies smiling in carriages, convalescents from the hospitals, officers on horseback – everybody was going to have a picnic. Everybody, thought Scarlett, sadly, except me.

      It simply wasn’t fair. She had worked twice as hard as any girl in town, getting things ready for the bazaar. She had knitted socks and afghans and mufflers. And she had embroidered half a dozen sofa-pillow cases with the Confederate flag on them. Yesterday she had worked until she was worn out. Under the supervision of the Committee, this was hard work and no fun at all. Oh, it wasn’t fair that she should have a dead husband and be out of everything that was pleasant. She tried not to smile and wave too enthusiastically to the men she knew best, but it was hard to hide her dimples, hard to look as though her heart were in the grave – when it wasn’t.

      Pittypat entered the room and jerked her away from the window unceremoniously.

      “Have you lost your mind, honey, waving at men out of your bedroom window? I declare, Scarlett, I’m shocked! What would your mother say?”

      “Well, they didn’t know it was my bedroom.”

      “Honey, you mustn’t do things like that. Everybody will be talking about you and saying you are fast.”

      “Well, I’m sorry, Auntie! I forgot it was my bedroom window.

      I won’t do it again – I – I just wanted to see them go by. I wish I was going.”

      “Honey!”

      “Well, I do. I’m so tired of sitting at home.”

      “Scarlett, promise me you won’t say things like that. People would talk so. They’d say you didn’t have the proper respect for poor Charlie —”

      “Oh, Auntie, don’t cry!” And Scarlett wailed out loud – not, as Pittypat thought, for poor Charlie but because the last sounds of the wheels and the laughter were dying away.

      “Oh, now I’ve made you cry, too,” sobbed Pittypat, in a pleased way, fumbling for her handkerchief.

      Melanie came running from her room: “Darlings! What is the matter?”

      “Charlie!” sobbed Pittypat.

      “Oh,” said Melly, “Be brave, dear. Don’t cry. Oh, Scarlett!”

      Scarlett had thrown herself on the bed and was sobbing at the top of her voice, sobbing for her lost youth and the pleasures of youth.

      “I might as well be dead!” she sobbed passionately.

      “Dear, don’t cry! Try to think how much Charlie loved you and let that comfort you!”

      “Oh, do go away and leave me alone!”

      She sank her face into the pillow, and the two standing over her tiptoed out. She heard Melanie say to Pittypat:

      “Aunt Pitty, I wish you wouldn’t speak of Charles to her. You know how it always affects her. We mustn’t make it harder for her.”

      Scarlett kicked the coverlet in impotent rage.

      She remained gloomily in her room until afternoon and then the sight of the returning picnickers did not cheer her. Life was a hopeless affair and certainly not worth living.

      Good riddance came in the form she least expected when, during the after-dinner-nap period, Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Elsing drove up.

      “Mrs. Bonnell’s children have the measles,” said Mrs. Merriwether abruptly.

      “And the McLure girls have been called to Virginia,” said Mrs. Elsing, “for Dallas McLure is wounded.”

      “So, Pitty, we need you and Melly tonight to take Mrs. Bonnell’s and the McLure girls’ places,” said Mrs. Merriwether.

      “Oh, we just couldn’t – with poor Charlie dead only a —”

      “I know how you feel but there isn’t any sacrifice too great for the Cause,” broke in Mrs. Elsing.

      “I think we should go,” said Scarlett. “It is the least we can do for the hospital.”

      Neither of the visiting ladies had even mentioned her name, and they turned and looked sharply at her. Scarlett’s face kept a childlike expression.

      “I think we should go and help to make it a success, all of us. I think I should go in the booth with Melly because – well, I think it would look better for us both. Don’t you think so, Melly?”

      “Well,” began Melly helplessly. The idea of appearing publicly at a social gathering while in mourning was so unheard of she was bewildered.

      “Scarlett’s right,” said Mrs. Merriwether. “And I know Charlie would like you to help the Cause he died for.”

      “Too good to be true![32]” said Scarlett’s joyful heart. Actually she was at a party! After a year’s seclusion, she was at the biggest party Atlanta had ever seen. And she could see people and many lights and hear music.

      She sat down on one of the little stools behind the counter of the booth and looked up and down the long hall. It looked lovely. And everywhere among the greenery, on flags, blazed the bright stars of the Confederacy.

      The musicians got on the platform, black, grinning, their fat cheeks already shining with sweat, and began tuning their fiddles. Scarlett felt her heart beat faster as the sweet melancholy of the waltz came to her:

      “The years creep slowly by, Lorena! The snow is on the grass again. The sun’s far down the sky, Lorena…”

      One-two-three, one-two-three. What a beautiful waltz!

      Suddenly the hall burst into life. It was full of girls, who floated in bright dresses; round little white shoulders bare; lace shawls carelessly hanging from arms; girls with masses of golden curls about their necks.

      There were so many uniforms in the crowd on so many men whom Scarlett knew, men she had met on hospital cots, on the streets, at the drill ground. All of them were so young looking, so handsome, so reckless, with their arms in slings, with head bandages white across sun-browned faces. Some of them were on crutches and how proud were the girls who slowed their steps to their escorts’ hopping pace! СКАЧАТЬ