I must decline to lend it."

She was hot with sudden rage and she stuttered until words came.

"Ashley Wilkes has never taken a cent from me! I couldn't make him

take a cent if he were starving! You don't understand him, how

honorable, how proud he is! Of course, you can't understand him,

being what you are--"

"Don't let's begin calling names. I could call you a few that

would match any you could think of for me. You forget that I have

been keeping up with you through Miss Pittypat, and the dear soul

tells all she knows to any sympathetic listener. I know that

Ashley has been at Tara ever since he came home from Rock Island.

I know that you have even put up with having his wife around, which

must have been a strain on you."

"Ashley is--"

"Oh, yes," he said, waving his hand negligently. "Ashley is too

sublime for my earthy comprehension. But please don't forget I was

an interested witness to your tender scene with him at Twelve Oaks

and something tells me he hasn't changed since then. And neither

have you. He didn't cut so sublime a figure that day, if I

remember rightly. And I don't think the figure he cuts now is much

better. Why doesn't he take his family and get out and find work?

And stop living at Tara? Of course, it's just a whim of mine, but

I don't intend to lend you a cent for Tara to help support him.

Among men, there's a very unpleasant name for men who permit women

to support them."

"How dare you say such things? He's been working like a field

hand!" For all her rage, her heart was wrung by the memory of

Ashley splitting fence rails.

"And worth his weight in gold, I dare say. What a hand he must be

with the manure and--"

"He's--"

"Oh, yes, I know. Let's grant that he does the best he can but I

don't imagine he's much help. You'll never make a farm hand out of

a Wilkes--or anything else that's useful. The breed is purely

ornamental. Now, quiet your ruffled feathers and overlook my

boorish remarks about the proud and honorable Ashley. Strange how

these illusions will persist even in women as hard headed as you

are. How much money do you want and what do you want it for?"

When she did not answer he repeated:

"What do you want it for? And see if you can manage to tell me the

truth. It will do as well as a lie. In fact, better, for if you

lie to me, I'll be sure to find it out, and think how embarrassing

that would be. Always remember this, Scarlett, I can stand

anything from you but a lie--your dislike for me, your tempers, all

your vixenish ways, but not a lie. Now what do you want it for?"

Raging as she was at his attack on Ashley, she would have given

anything to spit on him and throw his offer of money proudly into

his mocking face. For a moment she almost did, but the cold hand

of common sense held her back. She swallowed her anger with poor

grace and tried to assume an expression of pleasant dignity. He

leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs toward the stove.

"If there's one thing in the world that gives me more amusement

than anything else," he remarked, "it's the sight of your mental

struggles when a matter of principle is laid up against something

practical like money. Of course, I know the practical in you will

always win, but I keep hanging around to see if your better nature

won't triumph some day. And when that day comes I shall pack my

bag and leave Atlanta forever. There are too many women whose

better natures are always triumphing. . . . Well, let's get back

to business. How much and what for?"

"I don't know quite how much I'll need," she said sulkily. "But I

want to buy a sawmill--and I think I can get it cheap. And I'll

need two wagons and two mules. I want good mules, too. And a

horse and buggy for my own use."

"A sawmill?"

"Yes, and if you'll lend me the money, I'll give you a half-