ONE RAINY AFTERNOON when Bonnie was barely past her first birthday, Wade moped aboutthe sitting room, occasionally going to the window and flattening his nose on the dripping pane.
He was a slender, weedy boy, small for his eight years, quiet almost to shyness, never speakingunless spoken to. He was bored and obviously at loss for entertainment, for Ella was busy in thecorner with her dolls, Scarlett was at her secretary muttering to herself as she added a long columnof figures, and Rhett was lying on the floor, swinging his watch by its chain, just out of Bonnie’sreach.
After Wade had picked up several books and let them drop with bangs and sighed deeply,Scarlett turned to him in irritation.
“Heavens, Wade! Run out and play.”
“I can’t. It’s raining.”
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed. Well, do something. You make me nervous, fidgeting about. Go tell Porkto hitch up the carriage and take you over to play with Beau.”
“He isn’t home,” sighed Wade. “He’s at Raoul Picard’s birthday party.”
Raoul was the small son of Maybelle and René Picard—a detestable little brat, Scarlett thought,more like an ape than a child.
“Well, you can go to see anyone you want to. Run tell Pork.”
“Nobody’s at home,” answered Wade. “Everybody’s at the party.”
The unspoken words “everybody—but me” hung in the air; but Scarlett, her mind on her account books, paid no heed.
Rhett raised himself to a sitting posture and said: “Why aren’t you at the party too, son?”
Wade edged closer to him, scuffing one foot and looking unhappy.
“I wasn’t invited, sir.”
Rhett handed his watch into Bonnie’s destructive grasp and rose lightly to his feet.
“Leave those damned figures alone, Scarlett. Why wasn’t Wade invited to this party?”
“For Heaven’s sake, Rhett! Don’t bother me now. Ashley has gotten these accounts in an awfulsnarl— Oh, that party? Well, I think it’s nothing unusual that Wade wasn’t invited and I wouldn’tlet him go if he had been. Don’t forget that Raoul is Mrs. Merriwether’s grandchild and Mrs.
Merriwether would as soon have a free issue nigger in her sacred parlor as one of us.”
Rhett, watching Wade’s face with meditative eyes, saw the boy flinch.
“Come here, son,” he said, drawing the boy to him. “Would you like to be at that party?”
“No, sir,” said Wade bravely but his eyes fell.
“Hum. Tell me, Wade, do you go to little Joe Whiting’s parties or Frank Bonnell’s or—well, anyof your playmates?”
“No, sir. I don’t get invited to many parties.”
“Wade, you are lying!” cried Scarlett, turning. “You went to three last week, the Bart children’sparty and the Gelerts’ and the Hundons’.”
“As choice a collection of mules in horse harness as you could group together,” said Rhett, hisvoice going into a soft drawl. “Did you have a good time at those parties? Speak up.”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“I—I dunno, sir. Mammy—Mammy says they’re white trash.”
“I’ll skin Mammy this minute!” cried Scarlett, leaping to her feet “And as for you, Wade, talkingso about Mother’s friends—”
“The boy’s telling the truth and so is Mammy,” said Rhett. “But, of course, you’ve never beenable to know the truth if you met it in the road. ... Don’t bother, son. You don’t have to go to anymore parties you don’t want to go to. Here,” he pulled a bill from his pocket, “tell Pork to harnessthe carriage and take you downtown. Buy yourself some candy—a lot, enough to give you awonderful stomach ache.”
Wade, beaming, pocketed the bill and looked anxiously toward his mother for confirmation. Butshe, with a pucker in her brows, was watching Rhett. He had picked Bonnie from the floor and wascradling her to him, her small face against his cheek. She could not read his face but there wassomething in his eyes almost like fear—fear and self-accusation.
Wade, encouraged by his stepfather’s generosity, came shyly toward him.
“Uncle Rhett, can I ask you sumpin’?”
“Of course.” Rhett’s look was anxious, absent, as he held Bonnie’s head closer. “What is it,Wade?”
“Uncle Rhett, were you—did you fight in the war?”
Rhett’s eyes came alertly back and they were sharp, but his voice was casual.
“Why do you ask, son?”
“Well, Joe Whiting said you didn’t and so did Frankie Bonnell.”
“Ah,” said Rhett, “and what did you tell them?”
Wade looked unhappy.
“I—I said—I told them I didn’t know.” And with a rush, “But I didn’t care and I hit them. Wereyou in the war, Uncle Rhett?”
“Yes,” said Rhett, suddenly violent “I was in the war. I was in the army for eight months. Ifought all the way from Lovejoy up to Franklin, Tennessee. And I was with Johnston when hesurrendered.”
Wade wriggled with pride but Scarlett laughed.
“I thought you were ashamed of your war record,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me to keep itquiet?”
“Hush,” he said briefly. “Does that satisfy you, Wade?”
“Oh, yes, sir! I knew you were in the war. I knew you weren’t scared like they said. But—whyweren’t you with the other little boys’ fathers?”
“Because the other little boys’ fathers were such fools they had to put them in the infantry. I wasa West Pointer and so I was in the artillery. In the regular artillery, Wade, not the Home Guard. Ittakes a pile of sense to be in the artillery, Wade.”
“I bet,” said Wade, his face shining. “Did you get wounded, Uncle Rhett?’
Rhett hesitated.
“Tell him about your dysentery,” jeered Scarlett.
Rhett carefully set the baby on the floor and pulled his shirt and undershirt out of his trouserband.
“Come here, Wade, and I’ll show you where I was wounded.”
Wade advanced, excited, and gazed where Rhett’s finger pointed. A long raised scar ran acrosshis brown chest and down into his heavily muscled abdomen. It was the souvenir of a knife fight inthe California gold fields but Wade did not know it. He breathed heavily and happily.
“I guess you’re ‘bout as brave as my father, Uncle Rhett.”
“Almost but not quite,” said Rhett, stuffing his shirt into his trousers. “Now, go on and spendyour dollar and whale hell out of any boy who says I wasn’t in the army.”
Wade went dancing out happily, calling to Pork, and Rhett picked up the baby again.
“Now why all these lies, my gallant soldier laddie?” asked Scarlett.
“A boy has to be proud of his father—or stepfather. I can’t let him be ashamed before the otherlittle brutes. Cruel creatures, children.”
“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee!”
“I never thought about what it meant to Wade,” said Rhett slowly. “I never thought how he’ssuffered. And it’s not going to be that way for Bonnie.”
“What way?”
“Do you think I’m going to have my Bonnie ashamed of her father? Have her left out of partieswhen she’s nine or ten? Do you think I’m going to have her humiliated like Wade for things thataren’t her fault but yours and mine?”
“Oh, children’s parties!”
“Out of children’s parties grow young girls’ début parties. Do you think I’m going to let mydaughter grow up outside of everything decent in Atlanta? I’m not going to send her North toschool and to visit because she won’t be accepted here or in Charleston or Savannah or New Orleans.
And I’m not going to see her forced to marry a Yankee or a foreigner because no decentSouthern family will have her—because her mother was a fool and her father a blackguard.”
Wade, who had come back to the door, was an interested but puzzled listener.
“Bonnie can marry Beau, Uncle Rhett.”
The anger went from Rhett’s face as he turned to the little boy, and he considered his words withapparent seriousness as he always did when dealing with the children.
“That’s true, Wade. Bonnie can marry Beau Wilkes, but who will you marry?”
“Oh, I shan’t marry anyone,” said Wade confidently, luxuriating in a man-to-man talk with theone person, except Aunt Melly, who never reproved and always encouraged him. “I’m going to goto Harvard and be a lawyer, like my father, and then I’m going to be a brave soldier just like him.”
“I wish Melly would keep her mouth shut,” cried Scarlett. “Wade, you are not going to Harvard.
It’s a Yankee school and I won’t have you going to a Yankee school. You are going to theUniversity of Georgia and after you graduate you are going to manage the store for me. And as foryour father being a brave soldier—”
“Hush,” said Rhett curtly, not missing the shining light in Wade’s eyes when he spoke of thefather he had never known. “You grow up and be a brave man like your father, Wade. Try to be justlike him, for he was a hero and don’t let anyone tell you differently. He married your mother,didn’t he? Well, that’s proof enough of heroism. And I’ll see that you go to Harvard and become alawyer. Now, run along and tell Pork to take you to town.”
“I’ll thank you to let me manage my children,” cried Scarlett as Wade obediently trotted fromthe room.
“You’re a damned poor manager. You’ve wrecked whatever chances Ella and Wade had, but I won’t permit you to do Bonnie that way. Bonnie’s going to be a little princess and everyone in theworld is going to want her. There’s not going to be any place she can’t go. Good God, do you thinkI’m going to let her grow up and associate with the riffraff that fills this house?”
“They are good enough for you—”
“And a damned sight too good for you, my pet. But not for Bonnie. Do you think I’d let hermarry any of this runagate gang you spend your time with? Irishmen on the make, Yankees, whitetrash, Carpetbag parvenus— My Bonnie with her Butler blood and her Robillard strain—”
The O’Haras—”
The O’Haras might have been kings of Ireland once but your father was nothing but a smartMick on the make. And you are no better— But then, I’m at fault too. I’ve gone through life like abat out of hell, never caring what I did, because nothing ever mattered to me. But Bonnie matters.
God, what a fool I’ve been! Bonnie wouldn’t be received in Charleston, no matter what my motheror your Aunt Eulalie or Aunt Pauline did—and it’s obvious that she won’t be received here unlesswe do something quickly—”
“Oh, Rhett, you take it so seriously you’re funny. With our money—”
“Damn our money! All our money can’t buy what I want for her. I’d rather Bonnie was invitedto eat dry bread in the Picards’ miserable house or Mrs. Elsing’s rickety barn than to be the belle ofa Republican inaugural ball. Scarlett, you’ve been a fool. You should have insured a place for yourchildren in the social scheme years ago—but you didn’t. You didn’t even bother to keep whatposition you had. And it’s too much to hope that you’ll mend your ways at this late date. You’retoo anxious to make money and too fond of bullying people.”
“I consider this whole affair a tempest in a teapot,” said Scarlett coldly, rattling her papers toindicate that as far as she was concerned the discussion was finished.
“We have only Mrs. Wilkes to help us and you do your best to alienate and insult her. Oh, spareme your remarks about her poverty and her tacky clothes. She’s the soul and the center ofeverything in Atlanta that’s sterling. Thank God for her. She’ll help me do something about it.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Do? I’m going to cultivate every female dragon of the Old Guard in this town, especially Mrs.
Merriwether, Mrs. Elsing, Mrs. Whiting and Mrs. Meade. If I have to crawl on my belly to everyfat old cat who hates me, I’ll do it. I’ll be meek under their coldness and repentant of my evil ways.
I’ll contribute to their damned charities and I’ll go to their damned churches. I’ll admit and bragabout my services to the Confederacy and, if worst comes to worst, I’ll join their damned Klan—though a merciful God could hardly lay so heavy a penance on my shoulders as that. And I shallnot hesitate to remind the fools whose necks I saved that they owe me a debt. And you, Madam,will kindly refrain from undoing my work behind my back and foreclosing mortgages on any ofthe people I’m courting or selling them rotten lumber or in other ways insulting them. AndGovernor Bullock never sets foot in this house again. Do you hear? And none of this gang ofelegant thieves you’ve been associating with, either. If you do invite them, over my request, youwill find yourself in the embarrassing position of having no host in your home. If they come in thishouse, I will spend the time in Belle Watling’s bar telling anyone who cares to hear that I won’t stay under the same roof with them.”
Scarlett, who had been smarting under his words, laughed shortly.
“So the river-boat gambler and the speculator is going to be respectable! Well, your first movetoward respectability had better be the sale of Belle Watling’s house.”
That was a shot in the dark. She had never been absolutely certain that Rhett owned the house.
He laughed suddenly, as though he read her mind.
“Thanks for the suggestion.”
Had he tried, Rhett could not have chosen a more difficult time to beat his way back torespectability. Never before or after did the names Republican and Scalawag carry such odium, fornow the corruption of the Carpet bag regime was at its height. And, since the surrender, Rhett’sname had been inextricably linked with Yankees, Republicans and Scalawags.
Atlanta people had thought, with helpless fury, in 1866, that nothing could be worse than theharsh military rule they had then, but now, under Bullock, they were learning the worst. Thanks tothe negro vote, the Republicans and their allies were firmly entrenched and they were ridingrough-shod over the powerless but still protesting minority.
Word had been spread among the negroes that there were only two political parties mentioned inthe Bible, the Publicans and the Sinners. No negro wanted to join a party made up entirely ofsinners, so they hastened to join the Republicans. Their new masters voted them over and overagain, electing poor whites and Scalawags to high places, electing even some negroes. Thesenegroes sat in the legislature where they spent most of their time eating goobers and easing theirunaccustomed feet into and out of new shoes. Few of them could read or write. They were freshfrom cotton patch and canebrake, but it was within their power to vote taxes and bonds as well asenormous expense accounts to themselves and their Republican friends. And they voted them. Thestate staggered under taxes which were paid in fury, for the taxpayers knew that much of themoney voted for public purposes was finding its way into private pockets.
Completely surrounding the state capital was a host of promoters, speculators, seekers aftercontracts and others hoping to profit from the orgy of spending, and many were growingshamelessly rich. They had no difficulty at all in obtaining the state’s money for building railroadsthat were never built, for buying cars and engines that were never bought, for erecting publicbuildings that never existed except in the minds of their promoters.
Bonds were issued running into the millions. Most of them were illegal and fraudulent but theywere issued just the same. The state treasurer, a Republican but an honest man, protested againstthe illegal issues and refused to sign them, but he and others who sought to check the abuses coulddo nothing against the tide that was running.
The state-owned railroad had once been an asset to the state but now it was a liability and itsdebts had piled up to the million mark. It was no longer a railroad. It was an enormous bottomlesstrough in which the hogs could swill and wallow. Many of its officials were appointed for politicalreasons, regardless of their knowledge of the operation of railroads, there were three times as many people employed as were necessary, Republicans rode free on passes, carloads of negroes rode freeon their happy jaunts about the state to vote and revote in the same elections.
The mismanagement of the state road especially infuriated the taxpayers for, out of the earningsof the road, was to come the money for free schools. But there were no earnings, there were onlydebts, and so there were no free schools and there was a generation of children growing up inignorance who would spread the seeds of illiteracy down the years.
But far and above their anger at the waste and mismanagement and graft was the resentment ofthe people at the bad light in which the governor represented them in the North. When Georgiahowled against corruption, the governor hastily went North, appeared before Congress and told ofwhite outrages against negroes, of Georgia’s preparation for another rebellion and the need for astern military rule in the state. No Georgian wanted trouble with the negroes and they tried toavoid trouble. No one wanted another war, no one wanted or needed bayonet rule. All Georgiawanted was to be let alone so the state could recuperate. But with the operation of what came to beknown as the governor’s “slander mill,” the North saw only a rebellious state that needed a heavyhand, and a heavy hand was laid upon it.
It was a glorious spree for the gang which had Georgia by the throat. There was an orgy ofgrabbing and over all there was a cold cynicism about open theft in high places that was chilling tocontemplate. Protests and efforts to resist accomplished nothing, for the state government wasbeing upheld and supported by the power of the United States Army.
Atlanta cursed the name of Bullock and his Scalawags and Republicans and they cursed thename of anyone connected with them. And Rhett was connected with them. He had been in withthem, so everyone said, in all their schemes. But now, he turned against the stream in which he haddrifted so short a while before, and began swimming arduously back against the current.
He went about his campaign slowly, subtly, not arousing the suspicions of Atlanta by thespectacle of a leopard trying to change his spots overnight. He avoided his dubious cronies andwas seen no more in the company of Yankee officers, Scalawags and Republicans. He attendedDemocratic rallies and he ostentatiously voted the Democratic ticket. He gave up high-stake cardgames and stayed comparatively sober. If he went to Belle Watling’s house at all, he went by nightand by stealth as did more respectable townsmen, instead of leaving his horse hitched in front ofher door in the afternoons as an advertisement of his presence within.
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’sappearance as by Rhett’s, for the little boy was supposed to be a Catholic. At least, Scarlett wasone. Or she was supposed to be one. But she had not put foot in the church in years, for religionhad gone from her as many of Ellen’s other teachings had gone. Everyone thought she hadneglected 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 hisblack eyes from dancing maliciously. It had been years since he had chosen to do this but he did itnow, putting on gravity and charm, even as he put on waistcoats of more sober hues. It was notdifficult 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 matterof small moment. Now, Hugh Elsing, René, the Simmons boys, Andy Bonnell and the others foundhim pleasant, diffident about putting himself forward and embarrassed when they spoke of theobligation 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 alarge, but not vulgarly large, contribution to the Association for the Beautification of the Graves ofOur Glorious Dead. He sought out Mrs. Elsing to make this donation and embarrassedly beggedthat 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 moneybadly.
“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 thememories of former comrades in arms, braver than he but less fortunate, who now lay in unmarkedgraves, Mrs. Elsing’s aristocratic jaw dropped. Dolly Merriwether had told her Scarlett had saidCaptain 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 lookeddown and toyed with his watch chain.
“I would have liked the infantry,” he said, passing completely over her insinuation, “but whenthey found that I was a West Pointer—though I did not graduate, Mrs. Elsing, due to a boyishprank—they put me in the artillery, the regular artillery, not the militia. They needed men withspecialized knowledge in that last campaign. You know how heavy the losses had been, so manyartillerymen killed. It was pretty lonely in the artillery. I didn’t see a soul I knew. I don’t believe Isaw 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 hadmade 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 wereashamed 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 theConfederacy 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 hiseyes any more than I believe he was in the army. And I can find out mighty quick. If he was in thatartillery outfit, I can get at the truth, for Colonel Carleton who commanded it married the daughterof 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 inno uncertain terms. A born artilleryman, a brave soldier and an uncomplaining gentleman, amodest man who wouldn’t even take a commission when it was offered him.
“Well!” said Mrs. Merriwether showing the letter to Mrs. Elsing. “You can knock me down witha feather! Maybe we did misjudge the scamp about not being a soldier. Maybe we should havebelieved what Scarlett and Melanie said about him enlisting the day the town fell. But, just thesame, he’s a Scalawag and a rascal and I don’t like him!”
“Somehow,” said Mrs. Elsing uncertainly, “somehow, I don’t think he’s so bad. A man whofought for the Confederacy can’t be all bad. It’s Scarlett who is the bad one. Do you know, Dolly, Ireally believe that he—well, he’s ashamed of Scarlett but is too much of a gentleman to let on.”
“Ashamed! Pooh! They’re both cut out of the same piece of cloth. Where did you ever get sucha silly notion?”
“It isn’t silly,” said Mrs. Elsing indignantly. “Yesterday, in the pouring rain, he had those threechildren, even the baby, mind you, out in his carriage riding them up and down Peachtree Streetand he gave me a lift home. And when I said: ‘Captain Butler, have you lost your mind keepingthese children out in the damp? Why don’t you take them home?’And he didn’t say a word but justlooked embarrassed. But Mammy spoke up and said: ‘De house full of w’ite trash an’ it healthierfer de chillun in de rain dan at home!’ ”
“What did he say?”
“What could he say? He just scowled at Mammy and passed it over. You know Scarlett wasgiving a big whist party yesterday afternoon with all those common ordinary women there. I guesshe didn’t want them kissing his baby.”
“Well!” said Mrs. Merriwether, wavering but still obstinate. But the next week she, too,capitulated.
Rhett now had a desk in the bank. What he did at this desk the bewildered officials of the bankdid not know, but he owned too large a block of the stock for them to protest his presence there.
After a while they forgot that they had objected to him for he was quiet and well mannered andactually knew something about banking and investments. At any rate he sat at his desk all day,giving every appearance of industry, for he wished to be on equal terms with his respectable fellowtownsmen who worked and worked hard.
Mrs. Merriwether, wishing to expand her growing bakery, had tried to borrow two thousanddollars from the bank with her house as security. She had been refused because there were alreadytwo mortgages on the house. The stout old lady was storming out of the bank when Rhett stoppedher, learned the trouble and said, worriedly: “But there must be some mistake, Mrs. Merriwether.
Some dreadful mistake. You of all people shouldn’t have to bother about collateral. Why, I’d lendyou money just on your word! Any lady who could build up the business you’ve built up is the bestrisk in the world. The bank wants to lend money to people like you. Now, do sit down right here inmy chair and I will attend to it for you.”
When he came back he was smiling blandly, saying that there had been a mistake, just as he hadthought. The two thousand dollars was right there waiting for her whenever she cared to drawagainst it. Now, about her house—would she just sign right here?
Mrs. Merriwether, torn with indignation and insult, furious that she had to take this favor from aman she disliked and distrusted, was hardly gracious in her thanks.
But he failed to notice it As he escorted her to the door, he said: “Mrs. Merriwether, I havealways had a great regard for your knowledge and I wonder if you could tell me something?”
The plumes on her bonnet barely moved as she nodded.
“What did you do when your Maybelle was little and she sucked her thumb?”
“What?”
“My Bonnie sucks her thumb. I can’t make her stop it.”
“You should make her stop it,” said Mrs. Merriwether vigorously. “It will ruin the shape of hermouth.”
“I know! I know! And she has a beautiful mouth. But I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, Scarlett ought to know,” said Mrs. Merriwether shortly. “She’s had two other children.”
Rhett looked down at his shoes and sighed.
“I’ve tried putting soap under her finger nails,” he said, passing over her remark about Scarlett.
“Soap! Bah! Soap is no good at all. I put quinine on Maybelle’s thumb and let me tell you,Captain Butler, she stopped sucking that thumb mighty quick.”
“Quinine! I would never have thought of it! I can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Merriwether. It wasworrying me.”
He gave her a smile, so pleasant, so grateful that Mrs. Merriwether stood uncertainly for amoment. But as she told him good-by she was smiling too. She hated to admit to Mrs. Elsing thatshe had misjudged the man but she was an honest person and she said there had to be somethinggood about a man who loved his child. What a pity Scarlett took no interest in so pretty a creatureas Bonnie! There was something pathetic about a man trying to raise a little girl all by himself!
Rhett knew very well the pathos of the spectacle, and if it blackened Scarlett’s reputation he didnot care.
From the time the child could walk he took her about with him constantly, in the carriage or infront of his saddle. When he came home from the bank in the afternoon, he took her walking downPeachtree Street, holding her hand, slowing his long strides to her toddling steps, patientlyanswering her thousand questions. People were always in their front yards or on their porches atsunset and, as Bonnie was such a friendly, pretty child, with her tangle of black curls and her bright blue eyes, few could resist talking to her. Rhett never presumed on these conversations but stoodby, exuding fatherly pride and gratification at the notice taken of his daughter.
Atlanta had a long memory and was suspicious and slow to change. Times were hard and feelingwas bitter against anyone who had had anything to do with Bullock and his crowd. But Bonnie hadthe combined charm of Scarlett and Rhett at their best and she was the small opening wedge Rhettdrove into the wall of Atlanta’s coldness.
Bonnie grew rapidly and every day it became more evident that Gerald O’Hara had been hergrandfather. She had short sturdy legs and wide eyes of Irish blue and a small square jaw that wentwith a determination to have her own way. She had Gerald’s sudden temper to which she gave ventin screaming tantrums that were forgotten as soon as her wishes were gratified. And as long as herfather was near her, they were always gratified hastily. He spoiled her despite all the efforts ofMammy and Scarlett, for in all things she pleased him, except one. And that was her fear of thedark.
Until she was two years old she went to sleep readily in the nursery she shared with Wade andElla. Then, for no apparent reason, she began to sob whenever Mammy waddled out of the room,carrying the lamp. From this she progressed to wakening in the late night hours, screaming withterror, frightening the other two children and alarming the house. Once Dr. Meade had to be calledand Rhett was short with him when he diagnosed only bad dreams. All anyone could get from herwas one word, “Dark.”
Scarlett was inclined to be irritated with the child and favored a spanking. She would not humorher by leaving a lamp burning in the nursery, for then Wade and Ella would be unable to sleep.
Rhett, worried but gentle, attempting to extract further information from his daughter, said coldlythat if any spanking were done, he would do it personally and to Scarlett.
The upshot of the situation was that Bonnie was removed from the nursery to the room Rhettnow occupied alone. Her small bed was placed beside his large one and a shaded lamp burned onthe table all night long. The town buzzed when this story got about. Somehow, there wassomething indelicate about a girl child sleeping in her father’s room, even though the girl was onlytwo years old. Scarlett suffered from this gossip in two ways. First, it proved indubitably that sheand her husband occupied separate rooms, in itself a shocking enough state of affairs. Second,everyone thought that if the child was afraid to sleep alone, her place was with her mother. AndScarlett did not feel equal to explaining that she could not sleep in a lighted room nor would Rhettpermit the child to sleep with her.
“You’d never wake up unless she screamed and then you’d probably slap her,” he said shortly.
Scarlett was annoyed at the weight he attached to Bonnie’s night terrors but she thought shecould eventually remedy the state of affairs and transfer the child back to the nursery. All childrenwere afraid of the dark and the only cure was firmness. Rhett was just being perverse in the matter,making her appear a poor mother, just to pay her back for banishing him from her room.
He had never put foot in her room or even rattled the door knob since the night she told him shedid not want any more children. Thereafter and until he began staying at home on account of Bonnie’s fears, he had been absent from the supper table more often than he had been present.
Sometimes he had stayed out all night and Scarlett, lying awake behind her locked door, hearingthe clock count off the early morning hours, wondered where he was. She remembered: “There areother beds, my dear!” Though the thought made her writhe, there was nothing she could do aboutit. There was nothing she could say that would not precipitate a scene in which he would be sure toremark upon her locked door and the probable connection Ashley had with it. Yes, his foolishnessabout Bonnie sleeping in a lighted room—in his lighted room—was just a mean way of paying herback.
She did not realize the importance he attached to Bonnie’s foolishness nor the completeness ofhis devotion to the child until one dreadful night. The family never forgot that night.
That day Rhett had met an ex-blockade runner and they had had much to say to each other.
Where they had gone to talk and drink, Scarlett did not know but she suspected, of course, BelleWatling’s house. He did not come home in the afternoon to take Bonnie walking nor did he comehome to supper. Bonnie, who had watched from the window impatiently all afternoon, anxious todisplay a mangled collection of beetles and roaches to her father, had finally been put to bed byLou, amid wails and protests.
Either Lou had forgotten to light the lamp or it had burned out. No one ever knew exactly whathappened but when Rhett finally came home, somewhat the worse for drink, the house was in anuproar and Bonnie’s screams reached him even in the stables. She had waked in darkness andcalled for him and he had not been there. All the nameless horrors that peopled her small imaginationclutched her. All the soothing and bright lights brought by Scarlett and the servants could notquiet her and Rhett, coming up the stairs three at a jump, looked like a man who has seen Death.
When he finally had her in his arms and from her sobbing gasps had recognized only one word,“Dark,” he turned on Scarlett and the negroes in fury.
“Who put out the light? Who left her alone in the dark? Prissy, I’ll skin you for this, you—”
“Gawdlmighty, Mist’ Rhett! ‘Twarn’t me! ‘Twuz Lou!”
“Fo’ Gawd, Mist’ Rhett, Ah—”
“Shut up. You know my orders. By God, I’ll—get out. Don’t come back. Scarlett, give her somemoney and see that she’s gone before I come down stairs. Now, everybody get out, everybody!”
The negroes fled, the luckless Lou wailing into her apron. But Scarlett remained. It was hard tosee her favorite child quieting in Rhett’s arms when she had screamed so pitifully in her own. Itwas hard to see the small arms going around his neck and hear the choking voice relate what hadfrightened her, when she, Scarlett, had gotten nothing coherent out of her.
“So it sat on your chest,” said Rhett softly. “Was it a big one?”
“Oh, yes! Dretfull big. And claws.”
“Ah, claws, too. Well, now. I shall certainly sit up all night and shoot him if he comes back.”
Rhett’s voice was interested and soothing and Bonnie’s sobs died away. Her voice became lesschoked as she went into detailed description of her monster guest in a language which only hecould understand. Irritation stirred in Scarlett as Rhett discussed the matter as if it had been something real.
“For Heaven’s sake, Rhett—”
But he made a sign for silence. When Bonnie was at last asleep, he laid her in her bed and pulledup the sheet.
“I’m going to skin that nigger alive,” he said quietly. It’s your fault too. Why didn’t you comeup here to see if the light was burning?”
“Don’t be a fool, Rhett,” she whispered. “She gets this way because you humor her. Lots ofchildren are afraid of the dark but they get over it. Wade was afraid but I didn’t pamper him. Ifyou’d just let her scream for a night or two—”
“Let her scream!” For a moment Scarlett thought he would hit her. “Either you are a fool or themost inhuman woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t want her to grow up nervous and cowardly.”
“Cowardly? Hell’s afire! There isn’t a cowardly bone in her body! But you haven’t anyimagination and, of course, you can’t appreciate the tortures of people who have one—especially achild. If something with claws and horns came and sat on your chest, you’d tell it to get the hell offyou, wouldn’t you? Like hell you would. Kindly remember, Madam, that I’ve seen you wake upsqualling like a scalded cat simply because you dreamed of running in a fog. And that’s not been solong ago either!”
Scarlett was taken aback, for she never liked to think of that dream. Moreover, it embarrassedher to remember that Rhett had comforted her in much the same manner he comforted Bonnie. Soshe swung rapidly to a different attack.
“You are just humoring her and—”
“And I intend to keep on humoring her. If I do, she’ll outgrow it and forget about it.”
“Then,” said Scarlett acidly, “if you intend to play nursemaid, you might try coming homenights and sober too, for a change.”
“I shall come home early but drunk as a fiddler’s bitch if I please.”
He did come home early thereafter, arriving long before time for Bonnie to be put to bed. He satbeside her, holding her hand until sleep loosened her grasp. Only then did he tiptoe downstairs,leaving the lamp burning brightly and the door ajar so he might hear her should she awake andbecome frightened. Never again did he intend her to have a recurrence of fear of the dark. Thewhole household was acutely conscious of the burning light, Scarlett, Mammy, Prissy and Pork,frequently tiptoeing upstairs to make sure that it still burned.
He came home sober too, but that was none of Scarlett’s doing. For months he had beendrinking heavily, though he was never actually drunk, and one evening the smell of whisky wasespecially strong upon his breath. He picked up Bonnie, swung her to his shoulder and asked her:
“Have you a kiss for your sweetheart?”
She wrinkled her small upturned nose and wriggled to get down from his arms.
“No,” she said frankly. “Nasty.”
“I’m what?”
“Smell nasty. Uncle Ashley don’t smell nasty.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said ruefully, putting her on the floor. “I never expected to find atemperance advocate in my own home, of all places!”
But, thereafter, he limited his drinking to a glass of wine after supper. Bonnie, who was alwayspermitted to have the last drops in the glass, did not think the smell of wine nasty at all. As theresult, the puffiness which had begun to obscure the hard lines of his cheeks slowly disappearedand the circles beneath his black eyes were not so dark or so harshly cut. Because Bonnie liked toride on the front of his saddle, he stayed out of doors more and the sunburn began to creep acrosshis dark face, making him swarthier than ever. He looked healthier and laughed more and wasagain like the dashing young blockader who had excited Atlanta early in the war.
People who had never liked him came to smile as he went by with the small figure perchedbefore him on his saddle. Women who had heretofore believed that no woman was safe with him,began to stop and talk with him on the streets, to admire Bonnie. Even the strictest old ladies feltthat a man who could discuss the ailments and problems of childhood as well as he did could notbe altogether bad.