Impossible for her to appear on the floor. She saw Rhett's

shoulders shrug lazily.

"Another one of our belles, perhaps?" questioned the doctor.

"No," said Rhett clearly, his eyes sweeping the crowd carelessly.

"Mrs. Hamilton."

"I tell you it is impossible," said the doctor testily. "Mrs.

Hamilton will not--"

Scarlett heard a voice which, at first, she did not recognize as

her own.

"Yes, I will!"

She leaped to her feet, her heart hammering so wildly she feared

she could not stand, hammering with the thrill of being the center

of attention again, of being the most highly desired girl present

and oh, best of all, at the prospect of dancing again.

"Oh, I don't care! I don't care what they say!" she whispered, as

a sweet madness swept over her. She tossed her head and sped out

of the booth, tapping her heels like castanets, snapping open her

black silk fan to its widest.

For a fleeting instant she saw Melanie's incredulous face, the

look on the chaperons' faces, the petulant girls, the enthusiastic

approval of the soldiers.

Then she was on the floor and Rhett Butler was advancing toward

her through the aisle of the crowd, that nasty mocking smile on

his face. But she didn't care--didn't care if he were Abe Lincoln

himself! She was going to dance again. She was going to lead the

reel. She swept him a low curtsy and a dazzling smile and he

bowed, one hand on his frilled bosom. Levi, horrified, was quick

to cover the situation and bawled: "Choose yo' padners fo' de

Ferginny reel!"

And the orchestra crashed into that best of all reel tunes,

"Dixie."

"How dare you make me so conspicuous, Captain Butler?"

"But, my dear Mrs. Hamilton, you so obviously wanted to be

conspicuous!"

"How could you call my name out in front of everybody?"

"You could have refused."

"But--I owe it to the Cause--I--I couldn't think of myself when

you were offering so much in gold. Stop laughing, everyone is

looking at us."

"They will look at us anyway. Don't try to palm off that twaddle

about the Cause to me. You wanted to dance and I gave you the

opportunity. This march is the last figure of the reel, isn't

it?"

"Yes--really, I must stop and sit down now."

"Why? Have I stepped on your feet?"

"No--but they'll talk about me."

"Do you really care--down in your heart?"

"Well--"

"You aren't committing any crime, are you? Why not dance the

waltz with me?"

"But if Mother ever--"

"Still tied to mamma's apronstrings."

"Oh, you have the nastiest way of making virtues sound so stupid."

"But virtues are stupid. Do you care if people talk?"

"No--but--well, let's don't talk about it. Thank goodness the

waltz is beginning. Reels always leave me breathless."

"Don't dodge my questions. Has what other women said ever

mattered to you?"

"Oh, if you're going to pin me down--no! But a girl is supposed

to mind. Tonight, though, I don't care."

"Bravo! Now you are beginning to think for yourself instead of

letting others think for you. That's the beginning of wisdom."

"Oh, but--"

"When you've been talked about as much as I have, you'll realize

how little it matters. Just think, there's not a home in

Charleston where I am received. Not even my contribution to our

just and holy Cause lifts the ban."

"How dreadful!"

"Oh, not at all. Until you've lost your reputation, you never

realize what a burden it was or what freedom really is."

"You do talk scandalous!"

"Scandalously and truly. Always providing you have enough

courage--or money--you can do without a reputation."

"Money can't buy everything."

"Someone must have told you that. You'd never think of such a

platitude all by yourself. What can't it buy?"

"Oh, well, I don't know--not happiness or love, anyway."

"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--"

"He isn't brave," said Scarlett perversely, pouring half a pitcher

of syrup over her waffles. "He just does it for money. He told

me so. He doesn't care anything about the Confederacy and he says

we're going to get licked. But he dances divinely."

Her audience was speechless with horror.

"I'm tired of sitting at home and I'm not going to do it any

longer. If they all talked about me about last night, then my

reputation is already gone and it won't matter what else they

say."