Gone with the Wind

“I know how worried you are. I know you’d have gone home last week when you heard about your mother, if it hadn’t been for me. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Scarlett ungraciously.

“Scarlett, darling. You’ve been so good to me. No sister could have been sweeter or braver. And I love you for it. I’m so sorry I’m in the way.”

Scarlett stared. Loved her, did she? The fool!

“And Scarlett, I’ve been lying here thinking and I want to ask a very great favor of you.” Her clasp tightened. “If I should die, will you take my baby?”

Melanie’s eyes were wide and bright with soft urgency.

“Will you?”

Scarlett jerked away her hand as fear swamped her. Fear roughened her voice as she spoke.

“Oh, don’t be a goose, Melly. You aren’t going to die. Every woman thinks she’s going to die with her first baby. I know I did.”

“No, you didn’t. You’ve never been afraid of anything. You are just saying that to try to cheer me up. I’m not afraid to die but I’m so afraid to leave the baby, if Ashley is-Scarlett, promise me that you’ll take my baby if I should die. Then I won’t be afraid. Aunt Pittypat is too old to raise a child and Honey and India are sweet but-I want you to have my baby. Promise me, Scarlett. And if it’s a boy, bring him up like Ashley, and if it’s a girl-dear, I’d like her to be like you.”

“God’s nightgown!” cried Scarlett, leaping from the bed. “Aren’t things bad enough without you talking about dying?”

“I’m sorry, dear. But promise me. I think it’ll be today. I’m sure it’ll be today. Please promise me.”

“Oh, all right, I promise,” said Scarlett, looking down at her in bewilderment.

Was Melanie such a fool she really didn’t know how she cared for Ashley? Or did she know everything and feel that because of that love, Scarlett would take good care of Ashley’s child? Scarlett had a wild impulse to cry out questions, but they died on her lips as Melanie took her hand and held it for an instant against her cheek. Tranquillity had come back into her eyes.

“Why do you think it will be today, Melly?”

“I’ve been having pains since dawn-but not very bad ones.”

“You have? Well, why didn’t you call me? I’ll send Prissy for Dr. Meade.”

“No, don’t do that yet, Scarlett. You know how busy he is, how busy they all are. Just send word to him that we’ll need him some time today. Send over to Mrs. Meade’s and tell her and ask her to come over and sit with me. She’ll know when to really send for him.”

“Oh, stop being so unselfish. You know you need a doctor as much as anybody in the hospital. I’ll send for him right away.”

“No, please don’t. Sometimes it takes all day having a baby and I just couldn’t let the doctor sit here for hours when all those poor boys need him so much. Just send for Mrs. Meade. She’ll know.”

“Oh, all right,” said Scarlett.

Chapter XXI

After sending up Melanie’s breakfast tray, Scarlett dispatched Prissy for Mrs. Meade and sat down with Wade to eat her own breakfast. But for once she had no appetite. Between her nervous apprehension over the thought that Melanie’s time was approaching and her unconscious straining to hear the sound of the cannon, she could hardly eat. Her heart acted very queerly, beating regularly for several minutes and then thumping so loudly and swiftly it almost made her sick at her stomach. The heavy hominy stuck in her throat like glue and never before had the mixture of parched corn and ground-up yams that passed for coffee been so repulsive. Without sugar or cream it was bitter as gall, for the sorghum used for “long sweetening” did little to improve the taste. After one swallow she pushed her cup away. If for no other reason she hated the Yankees because they kept her from having real coffee with sugar and thick cream in it.

Wade was quieter than usual and did not set up his every morning complaint against the hominy that he so disliked. He ate silently the spoonfuls she pushed into his mouth and washed them down with noisily gulped water. His soft brown eyes followed her every movement, large, round as dollars, a childish bewilderment in them as though her own scarce-hidden fears had been communicated to him. When he had finished she sent him off to the back yard to play and watched him toddle across the straggling grass to his playhouse with great relief.

She arose and stood irresolutely at the foot of the stairs. She should go up and sit with Melanie and distract her mind from her coming ordeal but she did not feel equal to it. Of all days in the world, Melanie had to pick this day to have the baby! And of all days to talk about dying!