登陆注册
4615200000191

第191章

There was laughter about the skimpy fare and the Tarleton girls giggled as they told of makeshifts for clothes, as if they were telling the most amusing of jokes. Melanie met them halfway, surprising Scarlett with her unexpected vivacity as she told of trials at Tara, making light of hardships. Scarlett could hardly speak at all. The room seemed so empty without the four great Tarleton boys, lounging and smoking and teasing. And if it seemed empty to her, what must it seem to the Tarletons who were offering a smiling front to their neighbors?

Carreen had said little during the meal but when it was over she slipped over to Mrs. Tarleton’s side and whispered something. Mrs. Tarleton’s face changed and the brittle smile left her lips as she put her arm around Carreen’s slender waist. They left the room, and Scarlett, who felt she could not endure the house another minute, followed them. They went down the path through the garden and Scarlett saw they were going toward the burying ground. Well, she couldn’t go back to the house now. It would seem too rude. But what on earth did Carreen mean dragging Mrs. Tarleton out to the boys’ graves when Beatrice was trying so hard to be brave?

There were two new marble markers in the brick-enclosed lot under the funereal cedars—so new that no rain had splashed them with red dust.

“We got them last week,” said Mrs. Tarleton proudly. “Mr. Tarleton went to Macon and brought them home in the wagon.”

Tombstones! And what they must have cost! Suddenly Scarlett did not feel as sorry for the Tarletons as she had at first. Anybody who would waste precious money on tombstones when food was so dear, so almost unattainable, didn’t deserve sympathy. And there were several lines carved on each of the stones. The more carving, the more money. The whole family must be crazy! And it had cost money, too, to bring the three boys’ bodies home. They had never found Boyd or any trace of him.

Between the graves of Brent and Stuart was a stone which read: “They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided.”

On the other stone were the names of Boyd and Tom with something in Latin which began “Dulce et—” but it meant nothing to Scarlett who had managed to evade Latin at the Fayetteville Academy.

All that money for tombstones! Why, they were fools! She felt as indignant as if her own money had been squandered.

Carreen’s eyes were shining oddly.

“I think it’s lovely,” she whispered pointing to the first stone.

Carreen would think it lovely. Anything sentimental stirred her.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Tarleton and her voice was soft, “we thought it very fitting—they died almost at the same time. Stuart first and then Brent who caught up the flag he dropped.”

As the girls drove back to Tara, Scarlett was silent for a while, thinking of what she had seen in the various homes, remembering against her will the County in its glory, with visitors at all the big houses and money plentiful, negroes crowding the quarters and the well-tended fields glorious with cotton.

“In another year, there’ll be little pines all over these fields,” she thought and looking toward the encircling forest she shuddered. “Without the darkies, it will be all we can do to keep body and soul together. Nobody can run a big plantation without the darkies, and lots of the fields won’t be cultivated at all and the woods will take over the fields again. Nobody can plant much cotton, and what will we do then? What’ll become of country folks? Town folks can manage somehow. They’ve always managed. But we country folks will go back a hundred years like the pioneers who had little cabins and just scratched a few acres—and barely existed.

“No—” she thought grimly, “Tara isn’t going to be like that. Not even if I have to plow myself. This whole section, this whole state can go back to woods if it wants to, but I won’t let Tara go. And I don’t intend to waste my money on tombstones or my time crying about the war. We can make out somehow. I know we could make out somehow if the men weren’t all dead. Losing the darkies isn’t the worst part about this. It’s the loss of the men, the young men.” She thought again of the four Tarletons and Joe Fontaine, of Raiford Calvert and the Munroe brothers and all the boys from Fayetteville and Jonesboro whose names she had read on the casualty lists. “If there were just enough men left, we could manage somehow but—”

Another thought struck her—suppose she wanted to marry again. Of course, she didn’t want to marry again. Once was certainly enough. Besides, the only man she’d ever wanted was Ashley and he was married if he was still living. But suppose she would want to marry. Who would there be to marry her? The thought was appalling.

“Melly,” she said, “what’s going to happen to Southern girls?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I say. What’s going to happen to them? There’s no one to marry them. Why, Melly, with all the boys dead, there’ll be thousands of girls all over the South who’ll die old maids.”

“And never have any children,” added Melanie, to whom this was the most important thing.

Evidently the thought was not new to Suellen who sat in the back of the wagon, for she suddenly began to cry. She had not heard from Frank Kennedy since Christmas. She did not know if the lack of mail service was the cause, or if he had merely trifled with her affections and then forgotten her. Or maybe he had been killed in the last days of the war! The latter would have “been infinitely preferable to his forgetting her, for at least there was some dignity about a dead love, such as Carreen and India Wilkes had, but none about a deserted fiancée.

“Oh, in the name of God, hush!” said Scarlett.

“Oh, you can talk,” sobbed Suellen, “because you’ve been married and had a baby and everybody knows some man wanted you. But look at me! And you’ve got to be mean and throw it up to me that I’m an old maid when I can’t help myself. I think you’re hateful.”

同类推荐
  • 太上洞玄灵宝天尊说罗天大醮上品妙经

    太上洞玄灵宝天尊说罗天大醮上品妙经

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 上清十一大曜灯仪

    上清十一大曜灯仪

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 老父云游始末

    老父云游始末

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 风土记

    风土记

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 佛说老女人经

    佛说老女人经

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
热门推荐
  • 中国人的95种性格及其命运

    中国人的95种性格及其命运

    本书从性格理论出发,从众多的性格类型中,列举了如中庸、狭隘、懦弱、懒惰、残暴、认真、自满、自负、大度、勤奋、诚信、正直、豪放、多疑、孤僻、乐观、自卑、进取、顽强、创新、敏感、逃避、自恋、自闭等性格特征来进行分析、阐述,使人们认识到:不仅要利用正面的性格,也要警惕负面的性格。
  • 错咬吸血鬼

    错咬吸血鬼

    俗话说的好,“想要不被狗咬,那你就要先咬狗一口。”由此类推,“想要不被人咬,那你就要先咬人一口”,但是,当你遇到了一个吸血鬼的时候,想要不被他咬,是不是就要先咬他一口?苏夜色不知道,因为她遇到他的时候,正是她快要死去的时候。最爱的男人和最亲的女人同时将一把刀插进了她的身体,然后他们扬长而去,留下她一个人迎接死亡。她怀着满腔的怨恨,想要做一个死不瞑目的厉鬼,好去找他们报仇。不曾想,他救了她,她没有成为厉鬼,却成了吸血鬼。从此以后,在无边的夜色下,一部青涩女孩蜕变为超级女王的妖娆史华丽展开!-----------------------------------------------推荐我的女强玄幻文《吾家有女誓换天》,一样精彩,不容错过。
  • 寄刘少府

    寄刘少府

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 不死咒

    不死咒

    天外巨石让整个神族分裂,突发的异变将不死的传说埋葬。万族的崛起,神与魔的寂灭,异种的诞生。看那独一无二的异种如何搅动天地风云。
  • 重回20岁,boss的专宠

    重回20岁,boss的专宠

    活了一世,倾尽一生来报复这个害死哥哥的男人,结果非但没有报得了仇,倒是把自己搭了进去。好在上帝给了她一次重生的机会,回到了哥哥被害前,用尽浑身解数,解救哥哥。不料,这一世还是掉入了“狼口”。前世,她用尽浑身解数,只为接近他,各种卖萌,装乖。今生,她冷若冰霜,对帅气多金的他不屑一顾。想要成为他枕边人的女人数不胜数,可是唯独对她情有独钟。恨不得把绳子把她拴住,好让她一辈子都逃离不了他手掌心。
  • 一不小心出了名

    一不小心出了名

    班上转来了一个贫困地区小姑娘二丫,与她成为朋友后,牛皮皮他们逐渐知道并不是所有人都能无忧无虑,贫困山区的同龄伙伴随时面临失学的危险,快乐小子这下有点快乐不起来了。不过,牛皮皮的“鬼主意”总是一个接一个,他们成立了“一分钱小队”帮助小伙伴,还一不小心成了名人,出门都有人找他签名了,究竟是怎么回事呢?
  • 营销革命(经典重译版)

    营销革命(经典重译版)

    本书是一本专门帮助商业人士快速学习战略的自助书籍。近年来的一项调查报告显示,在如今激烈的竞争环境下,能通过层层晋升终成为企业CEO的人,更多来自销售和市场营销部门,而非其他职能部门。我们如今生活在“竞争年代”,几乎在所有品类中,商业竞争都已经越来越像战争。环境的改变使得传统的“自上而下”战略模式也随之过时。当你已经无法预测未来的竞争动向时,长期的战略规划又有什么价值呢?如果资源分配也受制于长期规划,那又如何能灵活应对竞争变化呢?
  • 征南录

    征南录

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 两晋:风流总被雨打风吹去

    两晋:风流总被雨打风吹去

    《大清盐商》编剧、《小话西游》作者刘勃全新力作《两晋:风流总被雨打风吹去》,讲述了魏晋南北朝是中国历史的一个岔路口,很多问题都面临着至关重要的抉择:统一还是分裂;贵族政治还是官僚政治;农耕民族还是游牧民族。作者用细腻诙谐的笔触,鲜明形象的人物,非为说史,而是咏怀,再现烽火连天的乱世争霸。
  • Dropping Ashes on the Buddha

    Dropping Ashes on the Buddha

    Somebody comes into the Zen center with a lighted cigarette, walks up to the Buddha statue, blows smoke in its face, and drops ashes on its lap. You are standing there. What can you do? This is a problem that Zen Master Seung Sahn is fond of posing to his American students who attend his Zen centers. Dropping Ashes on the Buddha is a delightful, irreverent, and often hilariously funny living record of the dialogue between Korean Zen Master Seung Sahn and his American students. Consisting of dialogues, stories, formal Zen interviews, Dharma speeches, and letters using the Zen Master's actual words in spontaneous, living interaction with his students, this book is a fresh presentation of the Zen teaching method of instant dialogue between Master and student which, through the use of astonishment and paradox, leads to an understanding of ultimate reality.