Gone with the Wind

“Generally it can. And when it can’t, it can buy some of the most remarkable substitutes.”

“And have you so much money, Captain Butler?”

“What an ill-bred question, Mrs. Hamilton. I’m surprised. But, yes. For a young man cut off without a shilling in early youth, I’ve done very well. And I’m sure I’ll clean up a million on the blockade.”

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes! What most people don’t seem to realize is that there is just as much money to be made out of the wreckage of a civilization as from the upbuilding of one.”

“And what does all that mean?”

“Your family and my family and everyone here tonight made their money out of changing a wilderness into a civilization. That’s empire building. There’s good money in empire building. But, there’s more in empire wrecking.”

“What empire are you talking about?”

“This empire we’re living in-the South-the Confederacy-the Cotton Kingdom-it’s breaking up right under our feet. Only most fools won’t see it and take advantage of the situation created by the collapse. I’m making my fortune out of the wreckage.”

“Then you really think we’re going to get licked?”

“Yes. Why be an ostrich?”

“Oh, dear, it bores me to talk about such like. Don’t you ever say pretty things, Captain Butler?”

“Would it please you if I said your eyes were twin goldfish bowls filled to the brim with the clearest green water and that when the fish swim to the top, as they are doing now, you are devilishly charming?”

“Oh, I don’t like that… Isn’t the music gorgeous? Oh, I could waltz forever! I didn’t know I had missed it so!”

“You are the most beautiful dancer I’ve ever held in my arms.”

“Captain Butler, you must not hold me so tightly. Everybody is looking.”

“If no one were looking, would you care?”

“Captain Butler, you forget yourself.”

“Not for a minute. How could I, with you in my arms?… What is that tune? Isn’t it new?”

“Yes. Isn’t it divine? It’s something we captured from the Yankees.”

“What’s the name of it?”

“’When This Cruel War Is Over.”

“What are the words? Sing them to me.”

“Dearest one, do you remember

When we last did meet?

When you told me how you loved me,

Kneeling at my feet?

Oh, how proud you stood before me

In your suit of gray,

When you vowed from me and country

Ne’er to go astray.

Weeping sad and lonely,

Sighs and tears how vain!

When this cruel war is over

Pray that we meet again!”

“Of course, it was ’suit of blue’ but we changed it to ‘gray.’… Oh, you waltz so well, Captain Butler. Most big men don’t, you know. And to think it will be years and years before I’ll dance again.”

“It will only be a few minutes. I’m going to bid you in for the next reel-and the next and the next.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t! You mustn’t! My reputation will be ruined.”

“It’s in shreds already, so what does another dance matter? Maybe I’ll give the other boys a chance after I’ve had five or six, but I must have the last one.”

“Oh, all right. I know I’m crazy but I don’t care. I don’t care a bit what anybody says. I’m so tired of sitting at home. I’m going to dance and dance-”

“And not wear black? I loathe funeral crepe.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take off mourning-Captain Butler, you must not hold me so tightly. I’ll be mad at you if you do.”

“And you look gorgeous when you are mad. I’ll squeeze you again-there-just to see if you will really get mad. You have no idea how charming you were that day at Twelve Oaks when you were mad and throwing things.”

“Oh, please-won’t you forget that?”

“No, it is one of my most priceless memories-a delicately nurtured Southern belle with her Irish up-You are very Irish, you know.”

“Oh, dear, there’s the end of the music and there’s Aunt Pittypat coming out of the back room. I know Mrs. Merriwether must have told her. Oh, for goodness’ sakes, let’s walk over and look out the window. I don’t want her to catch me now. Her eyes are as big as saucers.”

Chapter X

Over the waffles next morning, Pittypat was lachrymose, Melanie was silent and Scarlett defiant.

“I don’t care if they do talk. I’ll bet I made more money for the hospital than any girl there-more than all the messy old stuff we sold, too.”

“Oh, dear, what does the money matter?” wailed Pittypat, wringing her hands. “I just couldn’t believe my eyes, and poor Charlie hardly dead a year… And that awful Captain Butler, making you so conspicuous, and he’s a terrible, terrible person, Scarlett. Mrs. Whiting’s cousin, Mrs. Coleman, whose husband came from Charleston, told me about him. He’s the black sheep of a lovely family-oh, how could any of the Butlers ever turn out anything like him? He isn’t received in Charleston and he has the fastest reputation and there was something about a girl-something so bad Mrs. Coleman didn’t even know what it was-”

“Oh, I can’t believe he’s that bad,” said Melly gently. “He seemed a perfect gentleman and when you think how brave he’s been, running the blockade-”