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When
Ashley
went
into
the
cold
to
see
the
boys
off
to
the
depot
in
Aunt
Pitty
's
carriage
,
Melanie
caught
Scarlett
's
arm
.
"
Is
n't
his
uniform
dreadful
?
Wo
n't
my
coat
be
a
surprise
?
Oh
,
if
only
I
had
enough
cloth
for
britches
too
!
"
That
coat
for
Ashley
was
a
sore
subject
with
Scarlett
,
for
she
wished
so
ardently
that
she
and
not
Melanie
were
bestowing
it
as
a
Christmas
gift
.
Gray
wool
for
uniforms
was
now
almost
literally
more
priceless
than
rubies
,
and
Ashley
was
wearing
the
familiar
homespun
.
Even
butternut
was
now
none
too
plentiful
,
and
many
of
the
soldiers
were
dressed
in
captured
Yankee
uniforms
which
had
been
turned
a
dark-brown
color
with
walnut-shell
dye
.
But
Melanie
,
by
rare
luck
,
had
come
into
possession
of
enough
gray
broadcloth
to
make
a
coat
--
a
rather
short
coat
but
a
coat
just
the
same
.
She
had
nursed
a
Charleston
boy
in
the
hospital
and
when
he
died
had
clipped
a
lock
of
his
hair
and
sent
it
to
his
mother
,
along
with
the
scant
contents
of
his
pockets
and
a
comforting
account
of
his
last
hours
which
made
no
mention
of
the
torment
in
which
he
died
.
A
correspondence
had
sprung
up
between
them
and
,
learning
that
Melanie
had
a
husband
at
the
front
,
the
mother
had
sent
her
the
length
of
gray
cloth
and
brass
buttons
which
she
had
bought
for
her
dead
son
.
It
was
a
beautiful
piece
of
material
,
thick
and
warm
and
with
a
dull
sheen
to
it
,
undoubtedly
blockade
goods
and
undoubtedly
very
expensive
.
It
was
now
in
the
hands
of
the
tailor
and
Melanie
was
hurrying
him
to
have
it
ready
by
Christmas
morning
.
Scarlett
would
have
given
anything
to
be
able
to
provide
the
rest
of
the
uniform
,
but
the
necessary
materials
were
simply
not
to
be
had
in
Atlanta
.
She
had
a
Christmas
present
for
Ashley
,
but
it
paled
in
insignificance
beside
the
glory
of
Melanie
's
gray
coat
.
It
was
a
small
"
housewife
,
"
made
of
flannel
,
containing
the
whole
precious
pack
of
needles
Rhett
had
brought
her
from
Nassau
,
three
of
her
linen
handkerchiefs
,
obtained
from
the
same
source
,
two
spools
of
thread
and
a
small
pair
of
scissors
.
But
she
wanted
to
give
him
something
more
personal
,
something
a
wife
could
give
a
husband
,
a
shirt
,
a
pair
of
gauntlets
,
a
hat
.
Oh
,
yes
,
a
hat
by
all
means
.
That
little
flat-topped
forage
cap
Ashley
was
wearing
looked
ridiculous
.
Scarlett
had
always
hated
them
.
What
if
Stonewall
Jackson
had
worn
one
in
preference
to
a
slouch
felt
?
That
did
n't
make
them
any
more
dignified
looking
.
But
the
only
hats
obtainable
in
Atlanta
were
crudely
made
wool
hats
,
and
they
were
tackier
than
the
monkey-hat
forage
caps
.
When
she
thought
of
hats
,
she
thought
of
Rhett
Butler
.
He
had
so
many
hats
,
wide
Panamas
for
summer
,
tall
beavers
for
formal
occasions
,
hunting
hats
,
slouch
hats
of
tan
and
black
and
blue
.
What
need
had
he
for
so
many
when
her
darling
Ashley
rode
in
the
rain
with
moisture
dripping
down
his
collar
from
the
back
of
his
cap
?
"
I
'll
make
Rhett
give
me
that
new
black
felt
of
his
,
"
she
decided
.
"
And
I
'll
put
a
gray
ribbon
around
the
brim
and
sew
Ashley
's
wreath
on
it
and
it
will
look
lovely
.
"
She
paused
and
thought
it
might
be
difficult
to
get
the
hat
without
some
explanation
.
She
simply
could
not
tell
Rhett
she
wanted
it
for
Ashley
.
He
would
raise
his
brows
in
that
nasty
way
he
always
had
when
she
even
mentioned
Ashley
's
name
and
,
like
as
not
,
would
refuse
to
give
her
the
hat
.
Well
,
she
'd
make
up
some
pitiful
story
about
a
soldier
in
the
hospital
who
needed
it
and
Rhett
need
never
know
the
truth
.
All
that
afternoon
,
she
maneuvered
to
be
alone
with
Ashley
,
even
for
a
few
minutes
,
but
Melanie
was
beside
him
constantly
,
and
India
and
Honey
,
their
pale
lashless
eyes
glowing
,
followed
him
about
the
house
.
Even
John
Wilkes
,
visibly
proud
of
his
son
,
had
no
opportunity
for
quiet
conversation
with
him
.
It
was
the
same
at
supper
where
they
all
plied
him
with
questions
about
the
war
.
The
war
!
Who
cared
about
the
war
?
Scarlett
did
n't
think
Ashley
cared
very
much
for
that
subject
either
.
He
talked
at
length
,
laughed
frequently
and
dominated
the
conversation
more
completely
than
she
had
ever
seen
him
do
before
,
but
he
seemed
to
say
very
little
.
He
told
them
jokes
and
funny
stories
about
friends
,
talked
gaily
about
makeshifts
,
making
light
of
hunger
and
long
marches
in
the
rain
,
and
described
in
detail
how
General
Lee
had
looked
when
he
rode
by
on
the
retreat
from
Gettysburg
and
questioned
:
"
Gentlemen
,
are
you
Georgia
troops
?
Well
,
we
ca
n't
get
along
without
you
Georgians
!
"
