minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

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She rose to meet him, noting with surprise, as always, how lightly
he walked for a big man.

"Scarlett has gone?"

"Yes. Tara will do her good," he said smiling. "Sometimes I think
she's like the giant Antaeus who became stronger each time he
touched Mother Earth. It doesn't do for Scarlett to stay away too
long from the patch of red mud she loves. The sight of cotton
growing will do her more good than all Dr. Meade's tonics."

"Won't you sit down?" said Melanie, her hands fluttering. He was
so very large and male, and excessively male creatures always
discomposed her. They seem to radiate a force and vitality that
made her feel smaller and weaker even than she was. He looked so
swarthy and formidable and the heavy muscles in his shoulders
swelled against his white linen coat in a way that frightened her.
It seemed impossible that she had seen all this strength and
insolence brought low. And she had held that black head in her
lap!

"Oh, dear!" she thought in distress and blushed again.

"Miss Melly," he said gently, "does my presence annoy you? Would
you rather I went away? Pray be frank."

"Oh!" she thought. "He does remember! And he knows how upset I
am!"

She looked up at him, imploringly, and suddenly her embarrassment
and confusion faded. His eyes were so quiet, so kind, so
understanding that she wondered how she could ever have been silly
enough to be flurried. His face looked tired and, she thought with
surprise, more than a little sad. How could she have even thought
he'd be ill bred enough to bring up subjects both would rather
forget?

"Poor thing, he's been so worried about Scarlett," she thought, and
managing a smile, she said: "Do sit down, Captain Butler."

He sat down heavily and watched her as she picked up her darning.

"Miss Melly, I've come to ask a very great favor of you and," he
smiled and his mouth twisted down, "to enlist your aid in a
deception from which I know you will shrink."

"A--deception?"

"Yes. Really, I've come to talk business to you."

"Oh, dear. Then it's Mr. Wilkes you'd better see. I'm such a
goose about business. I'm not smart like Scarlett."

"I'm afraid Scarlett is too smart for her own good," he said, "and
that is exactly what I want to talk to you about. You know how--
ill she's been. When she gets back from Tara she will start again
hammer and tongs with the store and those mills which I wish
devoutly would explode some night. I fear for her health, Miss
Melly."

"Yes, she does far too much. You must make her stop and take care
of herself."

He laughed.

"You know how headstrong she is. I never even try to argue with
her. She's just like a willful child. She won't let me help her--
she won't let anyone help her. I've tried to get her to sell her
share in the mills but she won't. And now, Miss Melly, I come to
the business matter. I know Scarlett would sell the remainder of
her interest in the mills to Mr. Wilkes but to no one else, and I
want Mr. Wilkes to buy her out."

"Oh, dear me! That would be nice but--" Melanie stopped and bit
her lip. She could not mention money matters to an outsider.
Somehow, despite what he made from the mill, she and Ashley never
seemed to have enough money. It worried her that they saved so
little. She did not know where the money went. Ashley gave her
enough to run the house on, but when it came to extra expenses they
were often pinched. Of course, her doctor's bills were so much, and
then the books and furniture Ashley ordered from New York did run
into money. And they had fed and clothed any number of waifs who
slept in their cellar. And Ashley never felt like refusing a loan
to any man who'd been in the Confederate Army. And--

"Miss Melly, I want to lend you the money," said Rhett.

"That's so kind of you, but we might never repay it."

"I don't want it repaid. Don't be angry with me, Miss Melly! Please
hear me through. It will repay me enough to know that Scarlett will
not be exhausting herself driving miles to the mills every day. The
store will be enough to keep her busy and happy. . . . Don't you
see?"

"Well--yes--" said Melanie uncertainly.

"You want your boy to have a pony don't you? And want him to go to
the university and to Harvard and to Europe on a Grand Tour?"

She rose to meet him, noting with surprise, as always, how lightly

he walked for a big man.

"Scarlett has gone?"

"Yes. Tara will do her good," he said smiling. "Sometimes I think

she's like the giant Antaeus who became stronger each time he

touched Mother Earth. It doesn't do for Scarlett to stay away too

long from the patch of red mud she loves. The sight of cotton

growing will do her more good than all Dr. Meade's tonics."

"Won't you sit down?" said Melanie, her hands fluttering. He was

so very large and male, and excessively male creatures always

discomposed her. They seem to radiate a force and vitality that

made her feel smaller and weaker even than she was. He looked so

swarthy and formidable and the heavy muscles in his shoulders

swelled against his white linen coat in a way that frightened her.

It seemed impossible that she had seen all this strength and

insolence brought low. And she had held that black head in her

lap!

"Oh, dear!" she thought in distress and blushed again.

"Miss Melly," he said gently, "does my presence annoy you? Would

you rather I went away? Pray be frank."

"Oh!" she thought. "He does remember! And he knows how upset I

am!"

She looked up at him, imploringly, and suddenly her embarrassment

and confusion faded. His eyes were so quiet, so kind, so

understanding that she wondered how she could ever have been silly

enough to be flurried. His face looked tired and, she thought with

surprise, more than a little sad. How could she have even thought

he'd be ill bred enough to bring up subjects both would rather

forget?

"Poor thing, he's been so worried about Scarlett," she thought, and

managing a smile, she said: "Do sit down, Captain Butler."

He sat down heavily and watched her as she picked up her darning.

"Miss Melly, I've come to ask a very great favor of you and," he

smiled and his mouth twisted down, "to enlist your aid in a

deception from which I know you will shrink."

"A--deception?"

"Yes. Really, I've come to talk business to you."

"Oh, dear. Then it's Mr. Wilkes you'd better see. I'm such a

goose about business. I'm not smart like Scarlett."

"I'm afraid Scarlett is too smart for her own good," he said, "and

that is exactly what I want to talk to you about. You know how--

ill she's been. When she gets back from Tara she will start again

hammer and tongs with the store and those mills which I wish

devoutly would explode some night. I fear for her health, Miss

Melly."

"Yes, she does far too much. You must make her stop and take care

of herself."

He laughed.

"You know how headstrong she is. I never even try to argue with

her. She's just like a willful child. She won't let me help her--

she won't let anyone help her. I've tried to get her to sell her

share in the mills but she won't. And now, Miss Melly, I come to

the business matter. I know Scarlett would sell the remainder of

her interest in the mills to Mr. Wilkes but to no one else, and I

want Mr. Wilkes to buy her out."

"Oh, dear me! That would be nice but--" Melanie stopped and bit

her lip. She could not mention money matters to an outsider.

Somehow, despite what he made from the mill, she and Ashley never

seemed to have enough money. It worried her that they saved so

little. She did not know where the money went. Ashley gave her

enough to run the house on, but when it came to extra expenses they

were often pinched. Of course, her doctor's bills were so much, and

then the books and furniture Ashley ordered from New York did run

into money. And they had fed and clothed any number of waifs who

slept in their cellar. And Ashley never felt like refusing a loan

to any man who'd been in the Confederate Army. And--

"Miss Melly, I want to lend you the money," said Rhett.

"That's so kind of you, but we might never repay it."

"I don't want it repaid. Don't be angry with me, Miss Melly! Please

hear me through. It will repay me enough to know that Scarlett will

not be exhausting herself driving miles to the mills every day. The

store will be enough to keep her busy and happy. . . . Don't you

see?"

"Well--yes--" said Melanie uncertainly.

"You want your boy to have a pony don't you? And want him to go to

the university and to Harvard and to Europe on a Grand Tour?"