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It
seemed
to
Scarlett
that
he
was
talking
fervishly
to
keep
them
from
asking
questions
he
did
not
want
to
answer
.
When
she
saw
his
eyes
falter
and
drop
before
the
long
,
troubled
gaze
of
his
father
,
a
faint
worry
and
bewilderment
rose
in
her
as
to
what
was
hidden
in
Ashley
's
heart
.
But
it
soon
passed
,
for
there
was
no
room
in
her
mind
for
anything
except
a
radiant
happiness
and
a
driving
desire
to
be
alone
with
him
.
That
radiance
lasted
until
everyone
in
the
circle
about
the
open
fire
began
to
yawn
,
and
Mr.
Wilkes
and
the
girls
took
their
departure
for
the
hotel
.
Then
as
Ashley
and
Melanie
and
Pittypat
and
Scarlett
mounted
the
stairs
,
lighted
by
Uncle
Peter
,
a
chill
fell
on
her
spirit
.
Until
that
moment
when
they
stood
in
the
upstairs
hall
,
Ashley
had
been
hers
,
only
hers
,
even
if
she
had
not
had
a
private
word
with
him
that
whole
afternoon
.
But
now
,
as
she
said
good
night
,
she
saw
that
Melanie
's
cheeks
were
suddenly
crimson
and
she
was
trembling
.
Her
eyes
were
on
the
carpet
and
,
though
she
seemed
overcome
with
some
frightening
emotion
,
she
seemed
shyly
happy
.
Melanie
did
not
even
look
up
when
Ashley
opened
the
bedroom
door
,
but
sped
inside
.
Ashley
said
good
night
abruptly
,
and
he
did
not
meet
Scarlett
's
eyes
either
.
The
door
closed
behind
them
,
leaving
Scarlett
open
mouthed
and
suddenly
desolate
.
Ashley
was
no
longer
hers
.
He
was
Melanie
's
.
And
as
long
as
Melanie
lived
,
she
could
go
into
rooms
with
Ashley
and
close
the
door
--
and
close
out
the
rest
of
the
world
.
Now
Ashley
was
going
away
,
back
to
Virginia
,
back
to
the
long
marches
in
the
sleet
,
to
hungry
bivouacs
in
the
snow
,
to
pain
and
hardship
and
to
the
risk
of
all
the
bright
beauty
of
his
golden
head
and
proud
slender
body
being
blotted
out
in
an
instant
,
like
an
ant
beneath
a
careless
heel
.
The
past
week
with
its
shimmering
,
dreamlike
beauty
,
its
crowded
hours
of
happiness
,
was
gone
.
The
week
had
passed
swiftly
,
like
a
dream
,
a
dream
fragrant
with
the
smell
of
pine
boughs
and
Christmas
trees
,
bright
with
little
candles
and
home-made
tinsel
,
a
dream
where
minutes
flew
as
rapidly
as
heartbeats
.
Such
a
breathless
week
when
something
within
her
drove
Scarlett
with
mingled
pain
and
pleasure
to
pack
and
cram
every
minute
with
incidents
to
remember
after
he
was
gone
,
happenings
which
she
could
examine
at
leisure
in
the
long
months
ahead
,
extracting
every
morsel
of
comfort
from
them
--
dance
,
sing
,
laugh
,
fetch
and
carry
for
Ashley
,
anticipate
his
wants
,
smile
when
he
smiles
,
be
silent
when
he
talks
,
follow
him
with
your
eyes
so
that
each
line
of
his
erect
body
,
each
lift
of
his
eyebrows
,
each
quirk
of
his
mouth
,
will
be
indelibly
printed
on
your
mind
--
for
a
week
goes
by
so
fast
and
the
war
goes
on
forever
.
She
sat
on
the
divan
in
the
parlor
,
holding
her
going-away
gift
for
him
in
her
lap
,
waiting
while
he
said
good-by
to
Melanie
,
praying
that
when
he
did
come
down
the
stairs
he
would
be
alone
and
she
might
be
granted
by
Heaven
a
few
moments
alone
with
him
.
Her
ears
strained
for
sounds
from
upstairs
,
but
the
house
was
oddly
still
,
so
still
that
even
the
sound
of
her
breathing
seemed
loud
.
Aunt
Pittypat
was
crying
into
her
pillows
in
her
room
,
for
Ashley
had
told
her
good-by
half
an
hour
before
.
No
sounds
of
murmuring
voices
or
of
tears
came
from
behind
the
closed
door
of
Melanie
's
bedroom
.
It
seemed
to
Scarlett
that
he
had
been
in
that
room
for
hours
,
and
she
resented
bitterly
each
moment
that
he
stayed
,
saying
good-by
to
his
wife
,
for
the
moments
were
slipping
by
so
fast
and
his
time
was
so
short
.
She
thought
of
all
the
things
she
had
intended
to
say
to
him
during
this
week
.
But
there
had
been
no
opportunity
to
say
them
,
and
she
knew
now
that
perhaps
she
would
never
have
the
chance
to
say
them
.
Such
foolish
little
things
,
some
of
them
:
"
Ashley
,
you
will
be
careful
,
wo
n't
you
?
"
"
Please
do
n't
get
your
feet
wet
.
You
take
cold
so
easily
.
"
"
Do
n't
forget
to
put
a
newspaper
across
your
chest
under
your
shirt
.
It
keeps
out
the
wind
so
well
.
"
But
there
were
other
things
,
more
important
things
she
had
wanted
to
say
,
much
more
important
things
she
had
wanted
to
hear
him
say
,
things
she
had
wanted
to
read
in
his
eyes
,
even
if
he
did
not
speak
them
.
