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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 163/927
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She
was
happy
now
where
a
few
weeks
before
she
had
been
miserable
,
happy
with
her
beaux
and
their
reassurances
of
her
charm
,
as
happy
as
she
could
be
with
Ashley
married
to
Melanie
and
in
danger
.
But
somehow
it
was
easier
to
bear
the
thought
of
Ashley
belonging
to
some
one
else
when
he
was
far
away
.
With
the
hundreds
of
miles
stretching
between
Atlanta
and
Virginia
,
he
sometimes
seemed
as
much
hers
as
Melanie
's
.
So
the
autumn
months
of
1862
went
swiftly
by
with
nursing
,
dancing
,
driving
and
bandage
rolling
taking
up
all
the
time
she
did
not
spend
on
brief
visits
to
Tara
.
These
visits
were
disappointing
,
for
she
had
little
opportunity
for
the
long
quiet
talks
with
her
mother
to
which
she
looked
forward
while
in
Atlanta
,
no
time
to
sit
by
Ellen
while
she
sewed
,
smelling
the
faint
fragrance
of
lemon
verbena
sachet
as
her
skirts
rustled
,
feeling
her
soft
hands
on
her
cheek
in
a
gentle
caress
.
Ellen
was
thin
and
preoccupied
now
and
on
her
feet
from
morning
until
long
after
the
plantation
was
asleep
.
The
demands
of
the
Confederate
commissary
were
growing
heavier
by
the
month
,
and
hers
was
the
task
of
making
Tara
produce
.
Even
Gerald
was
busy
,
for
the
first
time
in
many
years
,
for
he
could
get
no
overseer
to
take
Jonas
Wilkerson
's
place
and
he
was
riding
his
own
acres
.
With
Ellen
too
busy
for
more
than
a
goodnight
kiss
and
Gerald
in
the
fields
all
day
,
Scarlett
found
Tara
boring
.
Even
her
sisters
were
taken
up
with
their
own
concerns
.
Suellen
had
now
come
to
an
"
understanding
"
with
Frank
Kennedy
and
sang
"
When
This
Cruel
War
Is
Over
"
with
an
arch
meaning
Scarlett
found
well-nigh
unendurable
,
and
Carreen
was
too
wrapped
up
in
dreams
of
Brent
Tarleton
to
be
interesting
company
.
Though
Scarlett
always
went
home
to
Tara
with
a
happy
heart
,
she
was
never
sorry
when
the
inevitable
letters
came
from
Pitty
and
Melanie
,
begging
her
to
return
.
Ellen
always
sighed
at
these
times
,
saddened
by
the
thought
of
her
oldest
daughter
and
her
only
grandchild
leaving
her
.
"
But
I
must
n't
be
selfish
and
keep
you
here
when
you
are
needed
to
nurse
in
Atlanta
,
"
she
said
.
"
Only
--
only
,
my
darling
,
it
seems
that
I
never
get
the
time
to
talk
to
you
and
to
feel
that
you
are
my
own
little
girl
again
before
you
are
gone
from
me
.
"
"
I
'm
always
your
little
girl
,
"
Scarlett
would
say
and
bury
her
head
upon
Ellen
's
breast
,
her
guilt
rising
up
to
accuse
her
.
She
did
not
tell
her
mother
that
it
was
the
dancing
and
the
beaux
which
drew
her
back
to
Atlanta
and
not
the
service
of
the
Confederacy
.
There
were
many
things
she
kept
from
her
mother
these
days
.
But
,
most
of
all
,
she
kept
secret
the
fact
that
Rhett
Butler
called
frequently
at
Aunt
Pittypat
's
house
.
During
the
months
that
followed
the
bazaar
,
Rhett
called
whenever
he
was
in
town
,
taking
Scarlett
riding
in
his
carriage
,
escorting
her
to
danceables
and
bazaars
and
waiting
outside
the
hospital
to
drive
her
home
.
She
lost
her
fear
of
his
betraying
her
secret
,
but
there
always
lurked
in
the
back
of
her
mind
the
disquieting
memory
that
he
had
seen
her
at
her
worst
and
knew
the
truth
about
Ashley
.
It
was
this
knowledge
that
checked
her
tongue
when
he
annoyed
her
.
And
he
annoyed
her
frequently
.
He
was
in
his
mid-thirties
,
older
than
any
beau
she
had
ever
had
,
and
she
was
as
helpless
as
a
child
to
control
and
handle
him
as
she
had
handled
beaux
nearer
her
own
age
.
He
always
looked
as
if
nothing
had
ever
surprised
him
and
much
had
amused
him
and
,
when
he
had
gotten
her
into
a
speechless
temper
,
she
felt
that
she
amused
him
more
than
anything
in
the
world
.
Frequently
she
flared
into
open
wrath
under
his
expert
baiting
,
for
she
had
Gerald
's
Irish
temper
along
with
the
deceptive
sweetness
of
face
she
had
inherited
from
Ellen
.
Heretofore
she
had
never
bothered
to
control
her
temper
except
in
Ellen
's
presence
.
Now
it
was
painful
to
have
to
choke
back
words
for
fear
of
his
amused
grin
.
If
only
he
would
ever
lose
his
temper
too
,
then
she
would
not
feel
at
such
a
disadvantage
.
