In due time, Charles' son was born and, because it was fashionable

to name boys after their fathers' commanding officers, he was

called Wade Hampton Hamilton. Scarlett had wept with despair at

the knowledge that she was pregnant and wished that she were dead.

But she carried the child through its time with a minimum of

discomfort, bore him with little distress and recovered so quickly

that Mammy told her privately it was downright common--ladies

should suffer more. She felt little affection for the child, hide

the fact though she might. She had not wanted him and she

resented his coming and, now that he was here, it did not seem

possible that he was hers, a part of her.

Though she recovered physically from Wade's birth in a disgracefully

short time, mentally she was dazed and sick. Her spirits drooped,

despite the efforts of the whole plantation to revive them. Ellen

went about with a puckered, worried forehead and Gerald swore more

frequently than usual and brought her useless gifts from Jonesboro.

Even old Dr. Fontaine admitted that he was puzzled, after his tonic

of sulphur, molasses and herbs failed to perk her up. He told Ellen

privately that it was a broken heart that made Scarlett so irritable

and listless by turns. But Scarlett, had she wished to speak, could

have told them that it was a far different and more complex trouble.

She did not tell them that it was utter boredom, bewilderment at

actually being a mother and, most of all, the absence of Ashley that

made her look so woebegone.

Her boredom was acute and ever present. The County had been

devoid of any entertainment or social life ever since the Troop

had gone away to war. All of the interesting young men were gone--

the four Tarletons, the two Calverts, the Fontaines, the Munroes

and everyone from Jonesboro, Fayetteville and Lovejoy who was

young and attractive. Only the older men, the cripples and the

women were left, and they spent their time knitting and sewing,

growing more cotton and corn, raising more hogs and sheep and cows

for the army. There was never a sight of a real man except when

the commissary troop under Suellen's middle-aged beau, Frank

Kennedy, rode by every month to collect supplies. The men in the

commissary were not very exciting, and the sight of Frank's timid

courting annoyed her until she found it difficult to be polite to

him. If he and Suellen would only get it over with!

Even if the commissary troop had been more interesting, it would

not have helped her situation any. She was a widow and her heart

was in the grave. At least, everyone thought it was in the grave

and expected her to act accordingly. This irritated her for, try

as she would, she could recall nothing about Charles except the

dying-calf look on his face when she told him she would marry him.

And even that picture was fading. But she was a widow and she had

to watch her behavior. Not for her the pleasures of unmarried

girls. She had to be grave and aloof. Ellen had stressed this at

great length after catching Frank's lieutenant swinging Scarlett