Home > Books > Gone with the Wind(277)

Gone with the Wind(277)

Author:Margaret Mitchell

Now was the time! Surely the saints and angels watched over her to give her such a

Heavensent opportunity. She managed to look very startled and embarrassed and opened her mouth as if to speak quickly and then shut it with a pop.

"Don't ten me you didn't know I was to be your brother-in-law this spring," he said with nervous jocularity. And then, seeing her eyes fill up with tears, he questioned in alarm: "What's the matter? Miss Sue's not ill, is she?"

"Oh, no! No!"

"There is something wrong. You must tell me."

"Oh, I can't! I didn't know! I thought surely she must have written you--Oh, how mean!"

"Miss Scarlett, what is it?"

"Oh, Frank, I didn't mean to let it out but I thought, of course, you knew--that she had written you--"

"Written me what?" He was trembling.

"Oh, to do this to a fine man like you!"

"What's she done?"

"She didn't write you? Oh, I guess she was too ashamed to write you. She should be

ashamed! Oh, to have such a mean sister!"

By this time, Frank could not even get questions to his lips. He sat staring at her, gray faced, the reins slack in his hands.

"She's going to marry Tony Fontaine next month. Oh, I'm so sorry, Frank. So sorry to be the one to tell you. She just got tired of waiting and she was afraid she'd be an old maid."

Mammy was standing on the front porch when Frank helped Scarlett out of the buggy.

She had evidently been standing there for some time, for her head rag was damp and the old shawl clutched tightly about her showed rain spots. Her wrinkled black face was a study in anger and apprehension and her lip was pushed out farther than Scarlett could ever remember. She peered quickly at Frank and, when she saw who it was, her face changed--pleasure, bewilderment

and something akin to guilt spreading over it. She waddled forward to Frank with pleased greetings and grinned and curtsied when he shook her hand.

"It sho is good ter see home folks," she said. "How is you, Mist' Frank? My, ain' you lookin' fine an' gran'! Effen Ah'd knowed Miss Scarlett wuz out wid you, Ah wouldn' worrit so.

Ah'd knowed she wuz tekken keer of. Ah come back hyah an' fine she gone an' Ah been as

'stracted as a chicken wid its haid off, thinkin' she runnin' roun' dis town by herseff wid all dese trashy free issue niggers on de street. Huccome you din' tell me you gwine out, honey? An' you wid a cole!"

Scarlett winked slyly at Frank and, for all his distress at the bad news he had just heard, he smiled, knowing she was enjoining silence and making him one in a pleasant conspiracy.

"You run up and fix me some dry clothes, Mammy," she said. "And some hot tea."

"Lawd, yo' new dress is plum ruint," grumbled Mammy. "Ah gwine have a time dryin' it an' brushin' it, so it'll be fit ter be wo' ter de weddin' ternight."

She went into the house and Scarlett leaned close to Frank and whispered: "Do come to supper tonight. We are so lonesome. And we're going to the wedding afterward. Do be our

escort! And, please don't say anything to Aunt Pitty about--about Suellen. It would distress her so much and I can't bear for her to know that my sister--"

"Oh, I won't! I won't!" Frank said hastily, wincing from the very thought.

"You've been so sweet to me today and done me so much good. I feel right brave again."

She squeezed his hand in parting and turned the full battery of her eyes upon him.

Mammy, who was waiting just inside the door, gave her an inscrutable look and followed

her, puffing, up the stairs to the bedroom. She was silent while she stripped off the wet clothes and hung them over chairs and tucked Scarlett into bed. When she had brought up a cup of hot tea and a hot brick, rolled in flannel, she looked down at Scarlett and said, with the nearest approach to an apology in her voice Scarlett had ever heard: "Lamb, huccome you din' tell yo'

own Mammy whut you wuz upter? Den Ah wouldn' had ter traipse all dis way up hyah ter 'Lanta.

Ah is too ole an' too fat fer sech runnin' roun'."

"What do you mean?"

"Honey, you kain fool me. Ah knows you. An' Ah seed Mist' Frank's face jes' now an' Ah seed yo' face, an' Ah kin read yo' mine lak a pahson read a Bible. An' Ah heerd dat whisperin' you wuz givin' him 'bout Miss Suellen. Effen Ah'd had a notion 'twuz Mist' Frank you wuz affer, Ah'd stayed home whar Ah b'longs."

"Well," said Scarlett shortly, snuggling under the blankets and realizing it was useless to try to throw Mammy off the scent, "who did you think it was?"