It meant nothing to her, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

Just at this moment, nothing mattered to her except that she

looked utterly charming in the first pretty hat she had put on her

head in two years. What she couldn't do with this hat! And then

her smile faded.

"Don't you like it?"

"Oh, it's a dream but-- Oh, I do hate to have to cover this

lovely green with crepe and dye the feather black."

He was beside her quickly and his deft fingers untied the wide bow

under her chin. In a moment the hat was back in its box.

"What are you doing? You said it was mine."

"But not to change to a mourning bonnet. I shall find some other

charming lady with green eyes who appreciates my taste."

"Oh, you shan't! I'll die if I don't have it! Oh, please, Rhett,

don't be mean! Let me have it."

"And turn it into a fright like your other hats? No."

She clutched at the box. That sweet thing that made her look so

young and enchanting to be given to some other girl? Oh, never!

For a moment she thought of the horror of Pitty and Melanie. She

thought of Ellen and what she would say, and she shivered. But

vanity was stronger.

"I won't change it. I promise. Now, do let me have it."

He gave her the box with a slightly sardonic smile and watched her

while she put it on again and preened herself.

"How much is it?" she asked suddenly, her face falling. "I have

only fifty dollars but next month--"

"It would cost about two thousand dollars, Confederate money," he

said with a grin at her woebegone expression.

"Oh, dear-- Well, suppose I give you the fifty now and then when

I get--"

"I don't want any money for it," he said. "It's a gift."

Scarlett's mouth dropped open. The line was so closely, so

carefully drawn where gifts from men were concerned.

"Candy and flowers, dear," Ellen had said time and again, "and

perhaps a book of poetry or an album or a small bottle of Florida

water are the only things a lady may accept from a gentleman.

Never, never any expensive gift, even from your fiance. And never

any gift of jewelry or wearing apparel, not even gloves or

handkerchiefs. Should you accept such gifts, men would know you

were no lady and would try to take liberties."

"Oh, dear," thought Scarlett, looking first at herself in the

mirror and then at Rhett's unreadable face. "I simply can't tell

him I won't accept it. It's too darling. I'd--I'd almost rather

he took a liberty, if it was a very small one." Then she was

horrified at herself for having such a thought and she turned

pink.

"I'll--I'll give you the fifty dollars--"

"If you do I will throw it in the gutter. Or, better still buy

masses for your soul. I'm sure your soul could do with a few

masses."

She laughed unwillingly, and the laughing reflection under the

green brim decided her instantly.

"Whatever are you trying to do to me?"

"I'm tempting you with fine gifts until your girlish ideals are

quite worn away and you are at my mercy," he said. "'Accept only

candy and flowers from gentlemen, dearie,'" he mimicked, and she

burst into a giggle.

"You are a clever, black-hearted wretch, Rhett Butler, and you

know very well this bonnet's too pretty to be refused."

His eyes mocked her, even while they complimented her beauty.

"Of course, you can tell Miss Pitty that you gave me a sample of

taffeta and green silk and drew a picture of the bonnet and I

extorted fifty dollars from you for it."

"No. I shall say one hundred dollars and she'll tell everybody in

town and everybody will be green with envy and talk about my

extravagance. But Rhett, you mustn't bring me anything else so

expensive. It's awfully kind of you, but I really couldn't accept

anything else."

"Indeed? Well, I shall bring you presents so long as it pleases

me and so long as I see things that will enhance your charms. I

shall bring you dark-green watered silk for a frock to match the

bonnet. And I warn you that I am not kind. I am tempting you

with bonnets and bangles and leading you into a pit. Always

remember I never do anything without reason and I never give

anything without expecting something in return. I always get

paid."

His black eyes sought her face and traveled to her lips.

Scarlett cast down her eyes, excitement filling her. Now, he was

going to try to take liberties, just as Ellen predicted. He was

going to kiss her, or try to kiss her, and she couldn't quite make

up her flurried mind which it should be. If she refused, he might

jerk the bonnet right off her head and give it to some other girl.

On the other hand, if she permitted one chaste peck, he might

bring her other lovely presents in the hope of getting another

kiss. Men set such a store by kisses, though Heaven alone knew

why. And lots of times, after one kiss they fell completely in

love with a girl and made most entertaining spectacles of

themselves, provided the girl was clever and withheld her kisses

after the first one. It would be exciting to have Rhett Butler in

love with her and admitting it and begging for a kiss or a smile.

Yes, she would let him kiss her.

But he made no move to kiss her. She gave him a sidelong glance

from under her lashes and murmured encouragingly.

"So you always get paid, do you? And what do you expect to get

from me?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Well, if you think I'll marry you to pay for the bonnet, I

won't," she said daringly and gave her head a saucy flirt that set

the plume to bobbing.

His white teeth gleamed under his little mustache.

"Madam, you flatter yourself, I do not want to marry you or anyone

else. I am not a marrying man."

"Indeed!" she cried, taken aback and now determined that he should

take some liberty. "I don't even intend to kiss you, either."

"Then why is your mouth all pursed up in that ridiculous way?"

"Oh!" she cried as she caught a glimpse of herself and saw that

her red lips were indeed in the proper pose for a kiss. "Oh!" she

cried again, losing her temper and stamping her foot. "You are

the horridest man I have ever seen and I don't care if I never lay

eyes on you again!"

"If you really felt that way, you'd stamp on the bonnet. My, what

a passion you are in and it's quite becoming, as you probably

know. Come, Scarlett, stamp on the bonnet to show me what you

think of me and my presents."

"Don't you dare touch this bonnet," she said, clutching it by the

bow and retreating. He came after her, laughing softly and took

her hands in his.

"Oh, Scarlett, you are so young you wring my heart," he said.

"And I shall kiss you, as you seem to expect it," and leaning down

carelessly, his mustache just grazed her cheek. "Now, do you feel

that you must slap me to preserve the proprieties?"

Her lips mutinous, she looked up into his eyes and saw so much

amusement in their dark depths that she burst into laughter. What

a tease he was and how exasperating! If he didn't want to marry

her and didn't even want to kiss her, what did he want? If he

wasn't in love with her, why did he call so often and bring her

presents?

"That's better," he said. "Scarlett, I'm a bad influence on you

and if you have any sense you will send me packing--if you can.

I'm very hard to get rid of. But I'm bad for you."

"Are you?"

"Can't you see it? Ever since I met you at the bazaar, your

career has been most shocking and I'm to blame for most of it.

Who encouraged you to dance? Who forced you to admit that you

thought our glorious Cause was neither glorious nor sacred? Who

goaded you into admitting that you thought men were fools to die

for high-sounding principles? Who has aided you in giving the old

ladies plenty to gossip about? Who is getting you out of mourning

several years too soon? And who, to end all this, has lured you

into accepting a gift which no lady can accept and still remain a

lady?"

"You flatter yourself, Captain Butler. I haven't done anything so

scandalous and I'd have done everything you mentioned without your

aid anyway."

"I doubt that," he said and his face went suddenly quiet and

somber. "You'd still be the broken-hearted widow of Charles

Hamilton and famed for your good deeds among the wounded.

Eventually, however--"

But she was not listening, for she was regarding herself pleasedly

in the mirror again, thinking she would wear the bonnet to the

hospital this very afternoon and take flowers to the convalescent

officers.

That there was truth in his last words did not occur to her. She

did not see that Rhett had pried open the prison of her widowhood

and set her free to queen it over unmarried girls when her days as

a belle should have been long past. Nor did she see that under

his influence she had come a long way from Ellen's teachings. The

change had been so gradual, the flouting of one small convention

seeming to have no connection with the flouting of another, and

none of them any connection with Rhett. She did not realize that,

with his encouragement, she had disregarded many of the sternest

injunctions of her mother concerning the proprieties, forgotten

the difficult lessons in being a lady.

She only saw that the bonnet was the most becoming one she ever

had, that it had not cost her a penny and that Rhett must be in

love with her, whether he admitted it or not. And she certainly

intended to find a way to make him admit it.

The next day, Scarlett was standing in front of the mirror with a

comb in her hand and her mouth full of hairpins, attempting a new

coiffure which Maybelle, fresh from a visit to her husband in

Richmond, had said was the rage at the Capital. It was called

"Cats, Rats and Mice" and presented many difficulties. The hair

was parted in the middle and arranged in three rolls of graduating

size on each side of the head, the largest, nearest the part,

being the "cat." The "cat" and the "rat" were easy to fix but the

"mice" kept slipping out of her hairpins in an exasperating

manner. However, she was determined to accomplish it, for Rhett

was coming to supper and he always noticed and commented upon any