Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром

”

The supper things cleared away, Gerald started his speech again predicting war with the Yankees. And Scarlett was in her thoughts about Ashley.

How could Pa talk on and on about Fort Sumter and the Yankees when he knew her heart was breaking? Wouldn’t Mother ever come home?

Then, wheels went sharply on the graveled driveway, and Ellen’s voice floated into the room. The whole group looked up eagerly as she entered, her face tired and sad.

“I am sorry I am so late,” said Ellen, slipping her shawl from the shoulders and handing it to Scarlett, whose cheek she patted in passing.

Gerald’s face had brightened as if by magic at her entrance.

“Is the brat baptized?” he questioned.

“Yes, and dead, poor thing,” said Ellen. “I feared Emmie would die too, but I think she will live.”

“Well, ’tis better so that the brat is dead, no doubt, poor fatherle ”

“It is late. We had better have prayers now,” interrupted Ellen.

It would be interesting to know who was the father of Emmie Slattery’s baby, but Scarlett knew she would never learn the truth of the matter if she waited to hear it from her mother.

Scarlett suspected Jonas Wilkerson, for she had often seen him walking down the road with Emmie at nightfall. Jonas was a Yankee and a bachelor, and the fact that he was an overseer excluded any contact with the County social life. There was no family into which he could marry, no people with whom he could associate except the Slatterys and riff raff like them.

Scarlett sighed, for her curiosity was sharp.

Pork entered the room, bearing a plate, silver and a napkin. Ellen sat down in the chair which Gerald pulled out for her and four voices attacked her.

“Mother, the lace is loose on my new ball dress and I want to wear it tomorrow night at Twelve Oaks. Won’t you please fix it?”

“Mother, Scarlett’s new dress is prettier than mine and I look like a fright in pink.

Why can’t she wear my pink and let me wear her green? She looks all right in pink.”

“Mother, can I stay up for the ball tomorrow night? I’m thirteen now —”

“Mrs. O’Hara, would you believe it! Cade Calvert was in Atlanta this morning and he says the news from Charleston is that they won’t tolerate any more Yankee insults.”

Ellen’s tired mouth smiled and she addressed herself first to her husband, as a wife should.