Into it wearily, her shapeless body overflowing it. She sat still,

weeping silently and praying. Now and then she lifted the hem of

her dress and wiped her eyes. Strain her ears as hard as she

might, she could hear no words from the room, only a low broken

humming sound.

Alter an interminable period, the door cracked open and Melly's

face white and strained, appeared.

"Bring me a pot of coffee, quickly, and some sandwiches."

When the devil drove, Mammy could be as swift as a lithe black

sixteen-year-old and her curiosity to get into Rhett's room made

her work faster. But her hope turned to disappointment when Melly

merely opened the door a crack and took the tray. For a long time

Mammy strained her sharp ears but she could distinguish nothing

except the clatter of silver on china, and the muffled soft tones

of Melanie's voice. Then she heard the creaking of the bed as a

heavy body fell upon it and, soon after, the sound of boots

dropping to the floor. After an interval, Melanie appeared in the

doorway but, strive though she might, Mammy could not see past her

Into the room. Melanie looked tired and there were tears

glistening on her lashes but her face was serene again.

"Go tell Miss Scarlett that Captain Butler is quite willing for the

funeral to take place tomorrow morning," she whispered.

"Bress Gawd!" ejaculated Mammy. "How on uth--"

"Don't talk so loud. He's going to sleep. And, Mammy, tell Miss

Scarlett, too, that I'll be here all night and you bring me some

coffee. Bring it here."

"Ter disyere room?"

"Yes, I promised Captain Butler that if he would go to sleep I

would sit up by her all night. Now go tell Miss Scarlett, so she

won't worry any more."

Mammy started off down the hall, her weight shaking the floor, her

relieved heart singing "Halleluja! Hallelujah!" She paused

thoughtfully outside of Scarlett's door, her mind in a ferment of

thankfulness and curiosity.

"How Miss Melley done it beyon' me. De angels fight on her side,

Ah specs. Ah'll tell Miss Scarlett de fune'l termorrer but Ah

specs Ah better keep hid dat Miss Melly settin' up wid Lil Miss.

Miss Scarlett ain' gwine lak dat a-tall."

CHAPTER LX

Something was wrong with the world, a somber, frightening wrongness

that pervaded everything like a dark impenetrable mist, stealthily

closing around Scarlett. This wrongness went even deeper than

Bonnie's death, for now the first unbearable anguish was fading

Into resigned acceptance of her loss. Yet this eerie sense of

disaster to come persisted, as though something black and hooded

stood just at her shoulder, as though the ground beneath her feet

might turn to quicksand as she trod upon it.

She had never before known this type of fear. All her life her

feet had been firmly planted in common sense and the only things

she had ever feared had been the things she could see, injury,

hunger, poverty, loss of Ashley's love. Unanalytical she was

trying to analyze now and with no success. She had lost her

dearest child but she could stand that, somehow, as she had stood

other crushing losses. She had her health, she had as much money

as she could wish and she still had Ashley, though she saw less and

less of him these days. Even the constraint which had been between

them since the day of Melanie's ill-starred surprise party did not

worry her, for she knew it would pass. No, her fear was not of

pain or hunger or loss of love. Those fears had never weighed her

down as this feeling of wrongness was doing--this blighting fear

that was oddly like that which she knew in her old nightmare, a

thick, swimming mist through which she ran with bursting heart, a

lost child seeking a haven that was hidden from her.

She remembered how Rhett had always been able to laugh her out of

her fears. She remembered the comfort of his broad brown chest and

his strong arms. And so she turned to him with eyes that really

saw him for the first time in weeks. And the change she saw

shocked her. This man was not going to laugh, nor was he going to

comfort her.

For some time after Bonnie's death she had been too angry with him,

too preoccupied with her own grief to do more than speak politely