“How could he know? I’ve always acted so prissy and ladylike and touch-me-not around him he probably thinks I don’t care a thing about him except as a friend. Yes, that’s why he’s never spoken! He thinks his love is hopeless. And that’s why he’s looked so—”
Her mind went swiftly back to those times when she had caught him looking at her in that strange manner, when the gray eyes that were such perfect curtains for his thoughts had been wide and naked and had in them a look of torment and despair.
“He’s been broken hearted because he thinks I’m in love with Brent or Stuart or Cade. And probably he thinks that if he can’t have me, he might as well please his family and marry Melanie. But if he knew I did love him—”
Her volatile spirits shot up from deepest depression to excited happiness. This was the answer to Ashley’s reticence, to his strange conduct. He didn’t know! Her vanity leaped to the aid of her desire to believe, ****** belief a certainty. If he knew she loved him, he would hasten to her side. She had only to—“Oh!” she thought rapturously, digging her fingers into her lowered brow. “What a fool I’ve been not to think of this till now! I must think of some way to let him know. He wouldn’t marry her if he knew I loved him! How could he?”
With a start, she realized that Gerald had finished and her mother’s eyes were on her. Hastily she began her decade, telling off the beads automatically but with a depth of emotion in her voice that caused Mammy to open her eyes and shoot a searching glance at her. As she finished her prayers and Suellen, then Carreen, began their decades, her mind was still speeding onward with her entrancing new thought.
Even now, it wasn’t too late! Too often the County had been scandalized by elopements when one or the other of the participating parties was practically at the altar with a third. And Ashley’s engagement had not even been announced yet! Yes, there was plenty of time!
If no love lay between Ashley and Melanie but only a promise given long ago, then why wasn’t it possible for him to break that promise and marry her? Surely he would do it, if he knew that she, Scarlett loved him. She must find some way to let him know. She would find some way! And then—Scarlett came abruptly out of her dream of delight, for she had neglected to make the responses and her mother was looking at her reprovingly. As she resumed the ritual, she opened her eyes briefly and cast a quick glance around the room. The kneeling figures, the soft glow of the lamp, the dim shadows where the negroes swayed, even the familiar objects that had been so hateful to her sight an hour ago, in an instant took on the color of her own emotions, and the room seemed once more a lovely place. She would never forget this moment or this scene!
“Virgin most faithful,” her mother intoned. The Litany of the Virgin was beginning, and obediently Scarlett responded: “Pray for us,” as Ellen praised in soft contralto the attributes of the Mother of God.
As always since childhood, this was, for Scarlett, a moment for adoration of Ellen, rather than the Virgin. Sacrilegious though it might be, Scarlett always saw, through her closed eyes, the upturned face of Ellen and not the Blessed Virgin, as the ancient phrases were repeated. “Health of the Sick,” “Seat of Wisdom,” “Refuge of Sinners,” “Mystical Rose”—they were beautiful because they were the attributes of Ellen. But tonight became of the exaltation of her own spirit, Scarlett found in the whole ceremonial, the softly spoken words, the murmur of the responses, a surpassing beauty beyond any that she had ever experienced before. And her heart went up to God in sincere thankfulness that a pathway for her feet had been opened—out of her misery and straight to the arms of Ashley.
When the last “Amen” sounded, they all rose, somewhat stiffly, Mammy being hauled to her feet by the combined efforts of Teena and Rosa. Pork took a long spiller from the mantelpiece, lit it from the lamp flame and went into the hall. Opposite the winding stair stood a walnut sideboard, too large for use in the dining room, bearing on its wide top several lamps and a long row of candles in candlesticks. Pork lit one lamp and three candles and, with the pompous dignity of a first chamberlain of the royal bedchamber lighting a king and queen to their rooms, he led the procession up the stairs, holding the light high above his head. Ellen, on Gerald’s arm, followed him, and the girls, each taking her own candlestick, mounted after them.
Scarlett entered her room, set the candle on the tall chest of drawers and fumbled in the dark closet for the dancing dress that needed stitching. Throwing it across her arm, she crossed the hall quietly. The door of her parents’ bedroom was slightly ajar and, before she could knock, Ellen’s voice, low but stern, came to her ears.
“Mr. O’Hara, you must dismiss Jonas Wilkerson.”
Gerald exploded, “And where will I be getting another overseer who wouldn’t be cheating me out of my eye-teeth?”
“He must be dismissed, immediately, tomorrow morning. Big Sam is a good foreman and he can take over the duties until you can hire another overseer.”
“Ah, ha!” came Gerald’s voice. “So, I understand! Then the worthy Jonas sired the—”
“He must be dismissed.”
“So, he is the father of Emmie Slattery’s baby,” thought Scarlett “Oh, well. What else can you expect from a Yankee man and a white-trash girl?”
Then, after a discreet pause which gave Gerald’s splutterings time to die away, she knocked on the door and handed the dress to her mother.
By the time Scarlett had undressed and blown out the candle, her plan for tomorrow had worked itself out in every detail. It was a ****** plan, for, with Gerald’s single-mindedness of purpose, her eyes were centered on the goal and she thought only of the most direct steps by which to reach it.