Very sorry for her some years hence, when the Republican rule was

gone from Georgia and the Democrats back in power.

"When the Democrats get a governor and a legislature of their own,

all your new vulgar Republican friends will be wiped off the chess

board and sent back to minding bars and emptying slops where they

belong. And you'll be left out on the end of a limb, with never a

Democratic friend or a Republican either. Well, take no thought of

the morrow."

Scarlett laughed, and with some justice, for at that time, Bullock

was safe in the governor's chair, twenty-seven negroes were in the

legislature and thousands of the Democratic voters of Georgia were

disfranchised.

"The Democrats will never get back. All they do is make Yankees

madder and put off the day when they could get back. All they do

is talk big and run around at night Ku Kluxing."

"They will get back. I know Southerners. I know Georgians. They

are a tough and bullheaded lot. If they've got to fight another

war to get back, they'll fight another war. If they've got to buy

black votes like the Yankees have done, then they will buy black

votes. If they've got to vote ten thousand dead men like the

Yankees did, every corpse in every cemetery in Georgia will be at

the polls. Things are going to get so bad under the benign rule of

our good friend Rufus Bullock that Georgia is going to vomit him

up.

"Rhett, don't use such vulgar words!" cried Scarlett. "You talk

like I wouldn't be glad to see the Democrats come back! And you

know that isn't so! I'd be very glad to see them back. Do you

think I like to see these soldiers hanging around, reminding me of--

do you think I like--why, I'm a Georgian, too! I'd like to see

the Democrats get back. But they won't. Not ever. And even if

they did, how would that affect my friends? They'd still have

their money, wouldn't they?"

"If they kept their money. But I doubt the ability of any of them

to keep money more than five years at the rate they're spending.

Easy come, easy go. Their money won't do them any good. Any more

than my money has done you any good. It certainly hasn't made a

horse out of you yet, has it, my pretty mule?"

The quarrel which sprang from this last remark lasted for days.

After the fourth day of Scarlett's sulks and obvious silent demands

for an apology, Rhett went to New Orleans, taking Wade with him,

over Mammy's protests, and he stayed away until Scarlett's tantrum

had passed. But the sting of not humbling him remained with her.

When he came back from New Orleans, cool and bland, she swallowed

her anger as best she could, pushing it into the back of her mind

to be thought of at some later date. She did not want to bother

with anything unpleasant now. She wanted to be happy for her mind

was full of the first party she would give in the new house. It

would be an enormous night reception with palms and an orchestra

and all the porches shrouded in canvas, and a collation that made

her mouth water in anticipation. To it she intended to invite

everyone she had ever known in Atlanta, all the old friends and all

the new and charming ones she had met since returning from her

honeymoon. The excitement of the party banished, for the most

part, the memory of Rhett's barbs and she was happy, happier than

she had been in years as she planned her reception.

Oh, what fun it was to be rich! To give parties and never count

the cost! To buy the most expensive furniture and dresses and food

and never think about the bills! How marvelous to be able to send

tidy checks to Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie in Charleston, and to

Will at Tara! Oh, the jealous fools who said money wasn't

everything! How perverse of Rhett to say that it had done nothing

for her!

Scarlett issued cards of invitation to all her friends and

acquaintances, old and new, even those she did not like. She did

not except even Mrs. Merriwether who had been almost rude when she

called on her at the National Hotel or Mrs. Elsing who had been

cool to frigidness. She invited Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Whiting who

she knew disliked her and who she knew would be embarrassed because

they did not have the proper clothes to wear to so elegant a

function. For Scarlett's housewarming, or "crush," as it was

fashionable to call such evening parties, half-reception, half-

ball, was by far the most elaborate affair Atlanta had ever seen.

That night the house and canvas-covered veranda were filled with

guests who drank her champagne punch and ate her patties and

creamed oysters and danced to the music of the orchestra that was

carefully screened by a wall of palms and rubber plants. But none

of those whom Rhett had termed the "Old Guard" were present except

Melanie and Ashley, Aunt Pitty and Uncle Henry, Dr. and Mrs. Meade

and Grandpa Merriwether.

Many of the Old Guard had reluctantly decided to attend the

"crush." Some had accepted because of Melanie's attitude, others

because they felt they owed Rhett a debt for saving their lives and

those of their relatives. But, two days before the function, a

rumor went about Atlanta that Governor Bullock had been invited.

The Old Guard signified their disapproval by a sheaf of cards,

regretting their inability to accept Scarlett's kind invitation.

And the small group of old friends who did attend took their

departure, embarrassed but firm, as soon as the governor entered

Scarlett's house.

Scarlett was so bewildered and infuriated at these slights that the

party was utterly ruined for her. Her elegant "crush"! She had

planned it so lovingly and so few old friends and no old enemies

had been there to see how wonderful it was! After the last guest

had gone home at dawn, she would have cried and stormed had she not

been afraid that Rhett would roar with laughter, afraid that she

would read "I told you so" in his dancing black eyes, even if he

did not speak the words. So she swallowed her wrath with poor

grace and pretended indifference.

Only to Melanie, the next morning, did she permit herself the

luxury of exploding.

"You insulted me, Melly Wilkes, and you made Ashley and the others

insult me! You know they'd have never gone home so soon if you

hadn't dragged them. Oh, I saw you! Just when I started to bring

Governor Bullock over to present him to you, you ran like a

rabbit!"

"I did not believe--I could not believe that he would really be

present," answered Melanie unhappily. "Even though everybody said--"

"Everybody? So everybody's been clacking and blabbing about me,

have they?" cried Scarlett furiously. "Do you mean to tell me if

you'd known the governor was going to be present, you wouldn't have

come either?"

"No," said Melanie in a low voice, her eyes on the floor. "Darling,

I just wouldn't have come."

"Great balls of fire! So you'd have insulted me like everybody

else did!"

"Oh, mercy!" cried Melly, in real distress. "I didn't mean to hurt

you. You're my own sister, darling, my own Charlie's widow and I--"

She put a timid hand on Scarlett's arm. But Scarlett flung it off,

wishing fervently that she could roar as loudly as Gerald used to

roar when in a temper. But Melanie faced her wrath. And as she

looked into Scarlett's stormy green eyes, her slight shoulders

straightened and a mantle of dignity, strangely at variance with

her childish face and figure, fell upon her.

"I'm sorry you're hurt, my dear, but I cannot meet Governor Bullock

or any Republican or any Scallawag. I will not meet them, in your

house or any other house. No, not even if I have to--if I have to--"

Melanie cast about her for the worst thing she could think of--

"Not even if I have to be rude."

"Are you criticizing my friends?"

"No, dear. But they are your friends and not mine."

"Are you criticizing me for having the governor at my house?"

Cornered, Melanie still met Scarlett's eyes unwaveringly.

"Darling, what you do, you always do for a good reason and I love

you and trust you and it is not for me to criticize. And I will

not permit anyone to criticize you in my hearing. But, oh,

Scarlett!" Suddenly words began to bubble out, swift hot words and

there was inflexible hate in the low voice. "Can you forget what

these people did to us? Can you forget darling Charlie dead and

Ashley's health ruined and Twelve Oaks burned? Oh, Scarlett, you

can't forget that terrible man you shot with your mother's sewing

box in his hands! You can't forget Sherman's men at Tara and how

they even stole our underwear! And tried to burn the place down

and actually handled my father's sword! Oh, Scarlett, it was these

same people who robbed us and tortured us and left us to starve

that you invited to your party! The same people who have set the

darkies up to lord it over us, who are robbing us and keeping our

men from voting! I can't forget. I won't forget. I won't let my

Beau forget and I'll teach my grandchildren to hate these people--

and my grandchildren's grandchildren if God lets me live that long!

Scarlett, how can you forget?"

Melanie paused for breath and Scarlett stared at her, startled out

of her own anger by the quivering note of violence in Melanie's

voice.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" she questioned impatiently. "Of course,

I remember! But all that's past, Melly. It's up to us to make the

best of things and I'm trying to do it. Governor Bullock and some

of the nicer Republicans can help us a lot if we handle them

right."

"There are no nice Republicans," said Melanie flatly. "And I don't

want their help. And I don't intend to make the best of things--if

they are Yankee things."

"Good Heaven, Melly, why get in such a pet?"

"Oh!" cried Melanie, looking conscience stricken. "How I have run

on! Scarlett, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or to criticize.

Everybody thinks differently and everybody's got a right to their

own opinion. Now, dear, I love you and you know I love you and

nothing you could ever do would make me change. And you still love

me, don't you? I haven't made you hate me, have I? Scarlett, I

couldn't stand it if anything ever came between us--after all we've

been through together! Say it's all right."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Melly, what a tempest you make in a teapot," said

Scarlett grudgingly, but she did not throw off the hand that stole

around her waist.

"Now, we're all right again," said Melanie pleasedly but she added

softly, "I want us to visit each other just like we always did,

darling. Just you let me know what days Republicans and Scallawags

are coming to see you and I'll stay at home on those days."

"It's a matter of supreme indifference to me whether you come or

not," said Scarlett, putting on her bonnet and going home in a

huff. There was some satisfaction to her wounded vanity in the

hurt look on Melanie's face.