minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"What?"

Stuart repeated his request.

"Of course."

The twins looked at each other jubilantly but with some surprise.
Although they considered themselves Scarlett's favored suitors,
they had never before gained tokens of this favor so easily.
Usually she made them beg and plead, while she put them off,
refusing to give a Yes or No answer, laughing if they sulked,
growing cool if they became angry. And here she had practically
promised them the whole of tomorrow--seats by her at the barbecue,
all the waltzes (and they'd see to it that the dances were all
waltzes!) and the supper intermission. This was worth getting
expelled from the university.

Filled with new enthusiasm by their success, they lingered on,
talking about the barbecue and the ball and Ashley Wilkes and
Melanie Hamilton, interrupting each other, making jokes and
laughing at them, hinting broadly for invitations to supper. Some
time had passed before they realized that Scarlett was having very
little to say. The atmosphere had somehow changed. Just how, the
twins did not know, but the fine glow had gone out of the
afternoon. Scarlett seemed to be paying little attention to what
they said, although she made the correct answers. Sensing
something they could not understand, baffled and annoyed by it,
the twins struggled along for a while, and then rose reluctantly,
looking at their watches.

The sun was low across the new-plowed fields and the tall woods
across the river were looming blackly in silhouette. Chimney
swallows were darting swiftly across the yard, and chickens, ducks
and turkeys were waddling and strutting and straggling in from the
fields.

Stuart bellowed: "Jeems!" And after an interval a tall black boy
of their own age ran breathlessly around the house and out toward
the tethered horses. Jeems was their body servant and, like the
dogs, accompanied them everywhere. He had been their childhood
playmate and had been given to the twins for their own on their
tenth birthday. At the sight of him, the Tarleton hounds rose up
out of the red dust and stood waiting expectantly for their
masters. The boys bowed, shook hands and told Scarlett they'd be
over at the Wilkeses' early in the morning, waiting for her. Then
they were off down the walk at a rush, mounted their horses and,
followed by Jeems, went down the avenue of cedars at a gallop,
waving their hats and yelling back to her.

When they had rounded the curve of the dusty road that hid them
from Tara, Brent drew his horse to a stop under a clump of
dogwood. Stuart halted, too, and the darky boy pulled up a few
paces behind them. The horses, feeling slack reins, stretched
down their necks to crop the tender spring grass, and the patient
hounds lay down again in the soft red dust and looked up longingly
at the chimney swallows circling in the gathering dusk. Brent's
wide ingenuous face was puzzled and mildly indignant.

"Look," he said. "Don't it look to you like she would of asked us
to stay for supper?"

"I thought she would," said Stuart. "I kept waiting for her to do
it, but she didn't. What do you make of it?"

"I don't make anything of it. But it just looks to me like she
might of. After all, it's our first day home and she hasn't seen
us in quite a spell. And we had lots more things to tell her."

"It looked to me like she was mighty glad to see us when we came."

"I thought so, too."

"And then, about a half-hour ago, she got kind of quiet, like she
had a headache."

"I noticed that but I didn't pay it any mind then. What do you
suppose ailed her?"

"I dunno. Do you suppose we said something that made her mad?"

They both thought for a minute.

"I can't think of anything. Besides, when Scarlett gets mad,
everybody knows it. She don't hold herself in like some girls
do."

"Yes, that's what I like about her. She don't go around being
cold and hateful when she's mad--she tells you about it. But it
was something we did or said that made her shut up talking and
look sort of sick. I could swear she was glad to see us when we
came and was aiming to ask us to supper."

"You don't suppose it's because we got expelled?"

"Hell, no! Don't be a fool. She laughed like everything when we
told her about it. And besides Scarlett don't set any more store
by book learning than we do."

Brent turned in the saddle and called to the negro groom.

"What?"

Stuart repeated his request.

"Of course."

The twins looked at each other jubilantly but with some surprise.

Although they considered themselves Scarlett's favored suitors,

they had never before gained tokens of this favor so easily.

Usually she made them beg and plead, while she put them off,

refusing to give a Yes or No answer, laughing if they sulked,

growing cool if they became angry. And here she had practically

promised them the whole of tomorrow--seats by her at the barbecue,

all the waltzes (and they'd see to it that the dances were all

waltzes!) and the supper intermission. This was worth getting

expelled from the university.

Filled with new enthusiasm by their success, they lingered on,

talking about the barbecue and the ball and Ashley Wilkes and

Melanie Hamilton, interrupting each other, making jokes and

laughing at them, hinting broadly for invitations to supper. Some

time had passed before they realized that Scarlett was having very

little to say. The atmosphere had somehow changed. Just how, the

twins did not know, but the fine glow had gone out of the

afternoon. Scarlett seemed to be paying little attention to what

they said, although she made the correct answers. Sensing

something they could not understand, baffled and annoyed by it,

the twins struggled along for a while, and then rose reluctantly,

looking at their watches.

The sun was low across the new-plowed fields and the tall woods

across the river were looming blackly in silhouette. Chimney

swallows were darting swiftly across the yard, and chickens, ducks

and turkeys were waddling and strutting and straggling in from the

fields.

Stuart bellowed: "Jeems!" And after an interval a tall black boy

of their own age ran breathlessly around the house and out toward

the tethered horses. Jeems was their body servant and, like the

dogs, accompanied them everywhere. He had been their childhood

playmate and had been given to the twins for their own on their

tenth birthday. At the sight of him, the Tarleton hounds rose up

out of the red dust and stood waiting expectantly for their

masters. The boys bowed, shook hands and told Scarlett they'd be

over at the Wilkeses' early in the morning, waiting for her. Then

they were off down the walk at a rush, mounted their horses and,

followed by Jeems, went down the avenue of cedars at a gallop,

waving their hats and yelling back to her.

When they had rounded the curve of the dusty road that hid them

from Tara, Brent drew his horse to a stop under a clump of

dogwood. Stuart halted, too, and the darky boy pulled up a few

paces behind them. The horses, feeling slack reins, stretched

down their necks to crop the tender spring grass, and the patient

hounds lay down again in the soft red dust and looked up longingly

at the chimney swallows circling in the gathering dusk. Brent's

wide ingenuous face was puzzled and mildly indignant.

"Look," he said. "Don't it look to you like she would of asked us

to stay for supper?"

"I thought she would," said Stuart. "I kept waiting for her to do

it, but she didn't. What do you make of it?"

"I don't make anything of it. But it just looks to me like she

might of. After all, it's our first day home and she hasn't seen

us in quite a spell. And we had lots more things to tell her."

"It looked to me like she was mighty glad to see us when we came."

"I thought so, too."

"And then, about a half-hour ago, she got kind of quiet, like she

had a headache."

"I noticed that but I didn't pay it any mind then. What do you

suppose ailed her?"

"I dunno. Do you suppose we said something that made her mad?"

They both thought for a minute.

"I can't think of anything. Besides, when Scarlett gets mad,

everybody knows it. She don't hold herself in like some girls

do."

"Yes, that's what I like about her. She don't go around being

cold and hateful when she's mad--she tells you about it. But it

was something we did or said that made her shut up talking and

look sort of sick. I could swear she was glad to see us when we

came and was aiming to ask us to supper."

"You don't suppose it's because we got expelled?"

"Hell, no! Don't be a fool. She laughed like everything when we

told her about it. And besides Scarlett don't set any more store

by book learning than we do."

Brent turned in the saddle and called to the negro groom.