And the congregation of the Episcopal Church almost fell out of their pews when he
tiptoed in, late for services, with Wade's hand held in his. The congregation was as much stunned by Wade's appearance as by Rhett's, for the little boy was supposed to be a Catholic. At least, Scarlett was one. Or she was supposed to be one. But she had not put foot in the church in years,
for religion had gone from her as many of Ellen's other teachings had gone. Everyone thought she had neglected her boy's religious education and thought more of Rhett for trying to rectify the matter, even if he did take the boy to the Episcopal Church instead of the Catholic.
Rhett could be grave of manner and charming when he chose to restrain his tongue and
keep his black eyes from dancing maliciously. It had been years since he had chosen to do this but he did it now, putting on gravity and charm, even as he put on waistcoats of more sober hues.
It was not difficult to gain a foothold of friendliness with the men who owed their necks to him.
They would have showed their appreciation long ago, had Rhett not acted as if their appreciation were a matter of small moment. Now, Hugh Elsing, René, the Simmons boys, Andy Bonnell and the others found him pleasant, diffident about putting himself forward and embarrassed when they spoke of the obligation they owed him.
"It was nothing," he would protest. "In my place you'd have all done the same thing."
He subscribed handsomely to the fund for the repairs of the Episcopal Church and he gave
a large, but not vulgarly large, contribution to the Association for the Beautification of the Graves of Our Glorious Dead. He sought out Mrs. Elsing to make this donation and embarrassedly
begged that she keep his gift a secret, knowing very well that this would spur her to spreading the news. Mrs. Elsing hated to take his money--"speculator money"--but the Association needed money badly.
"I don't see why you of all people should be subscribing," she said acidly.
When Rhett told her with the proper sober mien that he was moved to contribute by the
memories of former comrades in arms, braver than he but less fortunate, who now lay in
unmarked graves, Mrs. Elsing's aristocratic jaw dropped. Dolly Merriwether had told her Scarlett had said Captain Butler was in the army but, of course, she hadn't believed it. Nobody had believed it.
"You in the army? What was your company--your regiment?"
Rhett gave them.
"Oh, the artillery! Everyone I knew was either in the cavalry or the infantry. Then, that explains--"She broke off, disconcerted, expecting to see his eyes snap with that ice. But he only looked down and toyed with his watch chain.
"I would have liked the infantry," he said, passing completely over her insinuation, "but when they found that I was a West Pointer--though I did not graduate, Mrs. Elsing, due to a boyish prank--they put me in the artillery, the regular artillery, not the militia. They needed men with specialized knowledge in that last campaign. You know how heavy the losses had been, so many artillerymen killed. It was pretty lonely in the artillery. I didn't see a soul I knew. I don't believe I saw a single man from Atlanta during my whole service."
"Well!" said Mrs. Elsing, confused. If he had been in the army then she was wrong. She had made many sharp remarks about his cowardice and the memory of them made her feel guilty.
"Well! And why haven't you ever told anybody about your service? You act as though you were ashamed of it."
Rhett looked her squarely in the eyes, his face blank.
"Mrs. Elsing," he said earnestly, "believe me when I say that I am prouder of my services to the Confederacy than of anything I have ever done or will do. I feel--I feel--"
"Well, why did you keep it hidden?"
"I was ashamed to speak of it, in the light of--of some of my former actions."
Mrs. Elsing reported the contribution and the conversation in detail to Mrs. Merriwether.
"And, Dolly, I give you my word that when he said that about being ashamed, tears came into his eyes! Yes, tears! I nearly cried myself."
"Stuff and nonsense!" cried Mrs. Merriwether in disbelief. "I don't believe tears came into his eyes any more than I believe he was in the army. And I can find out mighty quick. If he was in that artillery outfit, I can get at the truth, for Colonel Carleton who commanded it married the daughter of one of my grandfather's sisters and I'll write him."
She wrote Colonel Carlton and to her consternation received a reply praising Rhett's
services in no uncertain terms. A born artilleryman, a brave soldier and an uncomplaining gentleman, a modest man who wouldn't even take a commission when it was offered him.