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Gone with the Wind(412)

Author:Margaret Mitchell

But one afternoon when she was consulting Dr. Meade about a digestive upset, she learned an unpleasant fact which she could not shrug off. It was with real hate in her eyes that she stormed into her bedroom at twilight and told Rhett that she was going to have a baby.

He was lounging in a silk dressing gown in a cloud of smoke and his eyes went sharply to

her face as she spoke. But he said nothing. He watched her in silence but there was a tenseness about his pose, as he waited for her next words, that was lost on her. Indignation and despair had claimed her to the exclusion of all other thoughts.

"You know I don't want any more children! I never wanted any at all. Every time things are going right with me I have to have a baby. Oh, don't sit there and laugh! You don't want it either. Oh, Mother of God!"

If he was waiting for words from her, these were not the words he wanted. His face

hardened slightly and his eyes became blank.

"Well, why not give it to Miss Melly? Didn't you tell me she was so misguided as to want another baby?"

"Oh, I could kill you! I won't have it, I tell you, I won't!"

"No? Pray continue."

"Oh, there are things to do. I'm not the stupid country fool I used to be. Now, I know that a woman doesn't have to have children if she doesn't want them! There are things--"

He was on his feet and had her by the wrist and there was a hard, driving fear in his face.

"Scarlett, you fool, tell me the truth! You haven't done anything?"

"No, I haven't, but I'm going to. Do you think I'm going to have my figure ruined all over again, just when I've gotten my waist line down and am having a good time."

"Where did you get this idea? Who's been telling you things?"

"Mamie Bart--she--"

The madam of a whore house would know such tricks. That woman never puts foot in this

house again, do you understand? After all, it is my house and I'm the master of it. I do not even want you to speak to her again."

"I'll do as I please. Turn me loose. Why should you care?"

"I don't care whether you have one child or twenty, but I do care if you die."

"Die? Me?"

"Yes, die. I don't suppose Mamie Bart told you the chances a woman takes when she does a thing like that?"

"No," said Scarlett reluctantly. "She just said it would fix things up fine."

"By God, I will kill her!" cried Rhett and his face was black with rage. He looked down into Scarlett's tear-stained face and some of the wrath faded but it was still hard and set. Suddenly he picked her up in his arms and sat down in the chair, holding her close to him, tightly, as if he feared she would get away from him.

"Listen, my baby, I won't have you take your life in your hands. Do you hear? Good God, I don't want children any more than you do, but I can support them. I don't want to hear any more foolishness out of you, and if you dare try to--Scarlett, I saw a girl die that way once. She was only a--well, but she was a pretty sort at that. It's not an easy way to die. I--"

"Why, Rhett!" she cried, startled out of her misery at the emotion in his voice. She had never seen him so moved. "Where--who--"

"In New Orleans--oh, years ago. I was young and impressionable." He bent his head suddenly and buried his lips in her hair. "You'll have your baby, Scarlett, if I have to handcuff you to my wrist for the next nine months."

She sat up in his lap and stared into his face with frank curiosity. Under her gaze it was suddenly smooth and bland as though wiped clear by magic. His eyebrows were up and the

corner of his mouth was down.

"Do I mean so much to you?" she questioned, dropping her eyelids.

He gave her a level look as though estimating how much coquetry was behind the

question. Reading the true meaning of her demeanor, he made casual answer.

"Well, yes. You see, I've invested a good deal of money in you, and I'd hate to lose it."

Melanie came out of Scarlett's room, weary from the strain but happy to tears at the birth of Scarlett's daughter. Rhett stood tensely in the hall, surrounded by cigar butts which had burned holes in the fine carpet

"You can go in now, Captain Butler," she said shyly.

Rhett went swiftly past her into the room and Melanie had a brief glimpse of him bending

over the small naked baby in Mammy's lap before Dr. Meade shut the door. Melanie sank into a chair, her face pinkening with embarrassment that she had unintentionally witnessed so intimate a scene.

"Ah!" she thought "How sweet! How worried poor Captain Butler has been! And he did not take a single drink all this time! How nice of him. So many gentlemen are so intoxicated by the time their babies are born. I fear he needs a drink badly. Dare I suggest it? No, that would be very forward of me."