She sank gratefully into a chair, her back, which always ached these days, feeling as
though it would break in two at the waist line. Oh, how fortunate Scarlett was to have Captain Butler just outside her door while the baby was being born! If only she had had Ashley with her that dreadful day Beau came she would not have suffered half so much. If only that small girl behind those closed doors were hers and not Scarlett's! Oh, how wicked I am, she thought
guiltily. I am coveting her baby and Scarlett has been so good to me. Forgive me, Lord. I wouldn't really want Scarlett's baby but--but I would so like a baby of my own!
She pushed a small cushion behind her aching back and thought hungrily of a daughter of
her own. But Dr. Meade had never changed his opinion on that subject. And though she was quite willing to risk her life for another child, Ashley would not hear of it. A daughter. How Ashley would love a daughter!
A daughter! Mercy! She sat up in alarm. I never told Captain Butler it was a girl! And of course he was expecting a boy. Oh, how dreadful!
Melanie knew that to a woman a child of either sex was equally welcome but to a man,
and especially such a self-willed man as Captain Butler, a girl would be a blow, a reflection upon his manhood. Oh, how thankful she was that God had permitted her only child to be a boy! She knew that, had she been the wife of the fearsome Captain Butler, she would have thankfully died in childbirth rather than present him with a daughter as his first-born.
But Mammy, waddling grinning from the room, set her mind at ease--and at the same
time made her wonder just what kind of man Captain Butler really was.
"Wen Ah wuz bathin' dat chile, jes' now," said Mammy, "Ah kinder 'pologized ter Mist'
Rhett 'boutit not bein' a boy. But, Lawd, Miss Melly, you know whut he say? He say, Hesh yo mouf, Mammy! Who want a boy? Boys ain' no fun. Dey's jes' a passel of trouble. Gals is whut is fun. Ah wouldn' swap disyere gal fer a baker's dozen of boys.' Den he try ter snatch de chile frum me, buck nekked as she wuz an' Ah slap his wrist an' say 'B'have yo'seff, Mist' Rhett! Ah'll jes'
bide mah time tell you gits a boy, an' den Ah'll laff out loud to hear you holler fer joy.' He grin an'
shake his haid an' say, 'Mammy, you is a fool. Boys ain' no use ter nobody. Ain' Ah a proof of
dat?' Yas'm, Miss Melly, he ack lak a gempmum 'bout it," finished Mammy graciously. It was not lost on Melanie that Rhett's conduct had gone far toward redeeming him in Mammy's eyes.
"Maybe Ah done been a mite wrong 'bout Mist' Rhett. Dis sho is a happy day ter me, Miss Melly.
Ah done diapered three ginrations of Robillard gals, an' it sho is a happy day."
"Oh, yes, it is a happy day, Mammy. The happiest days are the days when babies come!"
To one person in the house it was not a happy day. Scolded and for the most part ignored, Wade Hampton idled miserably about the dining room. Early that morning, Mammy had waked
him abruptly, dressed him hurriedly and sent him with Ella to Aunt Pitty's house for breakfast.
The only explanation he received was that his mother was sick and the noise of his playing might upset her. Aunt Pitty's house was in an uproar, for the news of Scarlett's sickness had sent the old lady to bed in a state with Cookie in attendance, and breakfast was a scant meal that Peter concocted for the children. As the morning wore on fear began to possess Wade's soul. Suppose Mother died? Other boys' mothers had died. He had seen the hearses move away from the house and heard his small friends sobbing. Suppose Mother should die? Wade loved his mother very much, almost as much as he feared her, and the thought of her being carried away in a black hearse behind black horses with plumes on their bridles made his small chest ache so that he could hardly breathe.
When noon came and Peter was busy in the kitchen, Wade slipped out the front door and
hurried home as fast as his short legs could carry him, fear speeding him. Uncle Rhett or Aunt Melly or Mammy surely would tell him the truth. But Uncle Rhett and Aunt Melly were not to be seen and Mammy and Dilcey sped up and down the back stairs with towels and basins of hot
water and did not once notice him in the front hall. From upstairs he could hear occasionally the curt tones of Dr. Meade whenever a door opened. Once he heard his mother groan and he burst into sobbing hiccoughs. He knew she was going to die. For comfort, he made overtures to the honey-colored cat which lay on the sunny window sill in the front hall. But Tom, full of years and irritable at disturbances, switched his tail and spat softly.
Finally, Mammy, coming down the front stairs, her apron rumpled and spotted, her head