While they were honeymooning in New Orleans Scarlett told Rhett of Mammy's words.
To her surprise and indignation he laughed at Mammy's statement about mules in horse harness.
"I have never heard a profound truth expressed so succinctly," he said. "Mammy's a smart old soul and one of the few people I know whose respect and good will I'd like to have. But, being a mule, I suppose I'll never get either from her. She even refused the ten-dollar gold piece which I, in my groomlike fervor, wished to present her after the wedding. I've seen so few people who did not melt at the sight of cash. But she looked me in the eye and thanked me and said she wasn't a free issue nigger and didn't need my money."
"Why should she take on so? Why should everybody gabble about me like a bunch of
guinea hens? It's my own affair whom I marry and how often I marry. I've always minded my own business. Why don't other people mind theirs?"
"My pet, the world can forgive practically anything except people who mind their own business. But why should you squall like a scalded cat? You've said often enough that you didn't mind what people said about you. Why not prove it? You know you've laid yourself open to
criticism so often in small matters, you can't expect to escape gossip in this large matter. You knew there'd be talk if you married a villain like me. If I were a low-bred poverty-stricken villain, people wouldn't be so mad. But a rich, flourishing villain--of course, that's unforgivable."
"I wish you'd, be serious sometimes!"
"I am serious. It's always annoying to the godly when the ungodly flourish like the green bay tree. Cheer up, Scarlett, didn't you tell me once that the main reason you wanted a lot of money was so you could tell everybody to go to hell? Now's your chance."
"But you were the main one I wanted to tell to go to hell," said Scarlett, and laughed.
"Do you still want to tell me to go to hell?"
"Well, not as often as I used to."
"Do it whenever you like, if it makes you happy."
"It doesn't make me especially happy," said Scarlett and, bending, she kissed him carelessly. His dark eyes flickered quickly over her face, hunting for something in her eyes which he did not find, and he laughed shortly.
"Forget about Atlanta. Forget about the old cats. I brought you to New Orleans to have fun and I intend that you shall have it."
Part Five
CHAPTER XLVIII
SHE DID HAVE FUN, more fun than she had had since the spring before the war. New Orleans was such a strange, glamorous place and Scarlett enjoyed it with the headlong pleasure of a pardoned life prisoner. The Carpetbaggers were looting the town, many honest folk were driven from their homes and did not know where to look for their next meal, and a negro sat in the lieutenant governor's chair. But the New Orleans Rhett showed her was the gayest place she had ever seen. The people she met seemed to have all the money they wanted and no cares at all.
Rhett introduced her to dozens of women, pretty women in bright gowns, women who had soft hands that showed no signs of hard work, women who laughed at everything and never talked of stupid serious things or hard times. And the men she met--how thrilling they were! And how different from Atlanta men--and how they fought to dance with her, and paid her the most
extravagant compliments as though she were a young belle.
These men had the same hard reckless look Rhett wore. Their eyes were always alert, like
men who have lived too long with danger to be ever quite careless. They seemed to have no pasts or futures, and they politely discouraged Scarlett when, to make conversation, she asked what or where they were before they came to New Orleans. That, in itself, was strange, for in Atlanta every respectable newcomer hastened to present his credentials, to tell proudly of his home and family, to trace the tortuous mazes of relationship that stretched over the entire South.
But these men were a taciturn lot, picking their words carefully. Sometimes when Rhett
was alone with them and Scarlett in the next room, she heard laughter and caught fragments of conversation that meant nothing to her, scraps of words, puzzling names--Cuba and Nassau in the blockade days, the gold rush and claim jumping, gun running and filibustering, Nicaragua and William Walker and how he died against a wall at Truxillo. Once her sudden entrance abruptly terminated a conversation about what had happened to the members of Quantrill's band of
guerillas, and she caught the names of Frank and Jesse James.
But they were all well mannered, beautifully tailored, and they evidently admired her, so it mattered little to Scarlett that they chose to live utterly in the present. What really mattered was that they were Rhett's friends and had large houses and fine carriages, and they took her and Rhett driving, invited them to suppers, gave parties in their honor. And Scarlett liked them very well. Rhett was amused when she told him so.