Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром

But, until then…

Chapter IV

That night at supper, Scarlett presided over the table in her mother’s absence, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the dreadful news she had heard about Ashley and Melanie. She wanted her mother to return from the Slatterys’, for, without her, she felt lost and alone.

Of course, she did not intend to tell her mother what was so heavy on her heart, for Ellen would be shocked to know that her daughter wanted a man who was engaged to another girl.

She rose suddenly from her chair at the sound of creaking wheels.

Then there were excited negro voices and laughter in the darkness of the yard. There was some whispering, and Pork entered, his eyes rolling and his teeth showing.

“Mist’ Gerald,” he announced, the pride of a bridegroom all over his shining face, “you’ new ’oman done come.”

“New woman? I didn’t buy any new woman,” declared Gerald, pretending to glare.

“Yassah, you did, Mist’ Gerald!” answered Pork, giggling in excitement.

“Well, bring in the bride,” said Gerald, and Pork, turning, beckoned into the hall to his wife, newly arrived from the Wilkes plantation to become part of the household of Tara. She entered, and behind her, almost hidden by her skirts, came her twelveyear-old daughter.

Dilcey was tall and held herself straight. She might have been any age from thirty to sixty, so unlined was her immobile bronze face. Indian blood was seen in her features which showed the mixture of two races.

When she spoke, she chose her words carefully.

“Good evenin’, young Misses. Mist’ Gerald, I is sorry to ’sturb you, but I wanted to come here and thank you agin fo’ buyin’ me and my chile.”

Dilcey turned to Scarlett and smiled. “Miss Scarlett, and I’m gwine give you my Prissy fo’ yo’ own maid.”

She pushed the little girl forward. She was a brown little creature, with skinny legs and a myriad of pigtails sticking out from her head.

She had sharp eyes that missed nothing and a stupid look on her face.

“Thank you, Dilcey,” Scarlett replied, “but I’m afraid Mammy will have something to say about that. She’s been my maid ever since I was born.”

“Mammy getting ole,” said Dilcey. “She a good mammy, but you a young lady now and needs a good maid.”

“A little wench,” she thought, and said aloud: “Thank you, Dilcey, we’ll see about it when Mother comes home.