Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром

And that’s Ashley!”

Scarlett felt herself go cold with fear and humiliation. Honey was a fool, a silly, but she had a feminine instinct about other women that Scarlett had underestimated.

Melanie’s voice, peaceful and a little reproving, rose above the others.

“Honey, you know that isn’t so. And it’s so unkind.”

“It is true, Melly, and if you weren’t always looking for the good in people that haven’t got any good in them, you’d see it. And I’m glad it’s so. It serves her right[24 - Так ей и надо.

]. All Scarlett O’Hara has ever done has been to make trouble and try to get other girls’ beaux.”

“I must get home!” thought Scarlett. “I must get home!”

If she could only be transferred by magic to Tara and to safety. If she could only be with Ellen, just to see her, to hold onto her skirt, to cry and pour out the whole story.

Home, she thought, as she sped down the hall, I must go home.

She was already on the front porch when a new thought came – she couldn’t go home! To run away would only give them more evidence.

She pounded her clenched fist against the tall white pillar beside her. She’d make them sorry. She’d show them. She didn’t quite see how she’d show them, but she’d do it all the same. She’d hurt them worse than they hurt her.

For the moment, Ashley was forgotten. Vanity was stronger than love at sixteen and there was no room in her hot heart now for anything but hate.

“I won’t go home,” she thought.

“I’ll stay here and I’ll make them sorry. And I’ll never tell Mother. No, I’ll never tell anybody.”

As she turned, she saw Charles coming into the house from the other end of the long hall. When he saw her, he hurried toward her. His face was red with excitement.

“Do you know what’s happened?” he cried, even before he reached her. “Have you heard?”

He paused, breathless, as he came up to her. She said nothing and only stared at him.

“Mr. Lincoln has called for men, soldiers – I mean volunteers – seventy-five thousand of them!”

Mr.

Lincoln again! Didn’t men ever think about anything that really mattered? Here was this fool expecting her to be excited about Mr. Lincoln’s didoes when her heart was broken and her reputation almost ruined.

Charles stared at her. Her face was paper white and her narrow eyes blazing like emeralds.

“I’m so clumsy,” he said. “I should have told you more gently.