minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 75
"She hasn't your strength. She's never had any strength. She's
never had anything but heart."

The carriage rocked to a standstill in front of the flat little
house and Rhett handed her out. Trembling, frightened, a sudden
feeling of loneliness upon her, she clasped his arm.

"You're coming in, Rhett?"

"No," he said and got back into the carriage.

She flew up the front steps, across the porch and threw open the
door. There, in the yellow lamplight were Ashley, Aunt Pitty and
India. Scarlett thought: "What's India doing here? Melanie told
her never to set foot in this house again." The three rose at the
sight of her, Aunt Pitty biting her trembling lips to still them,
India staring at her, grief stricken and without hate. Ashley
looked dull as a sleepwalker and, as he came to her and put his
hand upon her arm, he spoke like a sleepwalker.

"She asked for you," he said. "She asked for you."

"Can I see her now?" She turned toward the closed door of
Melanie's room.

"No. Dr. Meade is in there now. I'm glad you've come, Scarlett."

"I came as quickly as I could." Scarlett shed her bonnet and her
cloak. "The train-- She isn't really-- Tell me, she's better,
isn't she, Ashley? Speak to me! Don't look like that! She isn't
really--"

"She kept asking for you," said Ashley and looked her in the eyes.
And, in his eyes she saw the answer to her question. For a moment,
her heart stood still and then a queer fear, stronger than anxiety,
stronger than grief, began to beat in her breast. It can't be
true, she thought vehemently, trying to push back the fear.
Doctors make mistakes. I won't think it's true. I can't let
myself think it's true. I'll scream if I do. I must think of
something else.

"I don't believe it!" she cried stormily, looking into the three
drawn faces as though defying them to contradict her. "And why
didn't Melanie tell me? I'd never have gone to Marietta if I'd
known!"

Ashley's eyes awoke and were tormented.

"She didn't tell anyone, Scarlett, especially not you. She was
afraid you'd scold her if you knew. She wanted to wait three--till
she thought it safe and sure and then surprise you all and laugh
and say how wrong the doctors had been. And she was so happy. You
know how she was about babies--how much she's wanted a little girl.
And everything went so well until--and then for no reason at all--"

The door of Melanie's room opened quietly and Dr. Meade came out
into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He stood for a
moment, his gray beard sunk on his chest, and looked at the
suddenly frozen four. His gaze fell last on Scarlett. As he came
toward her, she saw that there was grief in his eyes and also
dislike and contempt that flooded her frightened heart with guilt.

"So you finally got here," he said.

Before she could answer, Ashley started toward the closed door.

"Not you, yet," said the doctor. "She wants to speak to Scarlett."

"Doctor," said India, putting a hand on his sleeve. Though her
voice was toneless, it plead more loudly than words. "Let me see
her for a moment. I've been here since this morning, waiting, but
she-- Let me see her for a moment. I want to tell her--must tell
her--that I was wrong about--something."

She did not look at Ashley or Scarlett as she spoke, but Dr. Meade
allowed his cold glance to fall on Scarlett.

"I'll see, Miss India," he said briefly. "But only if you'll give
me your word not to use up her strength telling her you were wrong.
She knows you were wrong and it will only worry her to hear you
apologize."

Pitty began, timidly: "Please, Dr. Meade--"

"Miss Pitty, you know you'd scream and faint."

Pitty drew up her stout little body and gave the doctor glance for
glance. Her eyes were dry and there was dignity in every curve.

"Well, all right, honey, a little later," said the doctor, more
kindly. "Come, Scarlett."

They tiptoed down the hall to the closed door and the doctor put
his hand on Scarlett's shoulder in a hard grip.

"Now, Miss," he whispered briefly, "no hysterics and no deathbed
confessions from you or, before God, I will wring your neck! Don't
give me any of your innocent stares. You know what I mean. Miss
Melly is going to die easily and you aren't going to ease your own
conscience by telling her anything about Ashley. I've never harmed

"She hasn't your strength. She's never had any strength. She's

never had anything but heart."

The carriage rocked to a standstill in front of the flat little

house and Rhett handed her out. Trembling, frightened, a sudden

feeling of loneliness upon her, she clasped his arm.

"You're coming in, Rhett?"

"No," he said and got back into the carriage.

She flew up the front steps, across the porch and threw open the

door. There, in the yellow lamplight were Ashley, Aunt Pitty and

India. Scarlett thought: "What's India doing here? Melanie told

her never to set foot in this house again." The three rose at the

sight of her, Aunt Pitty biting her trembling lips to still them,

India staring at her, grief stricken and without hate. Ashley

looked dull as a sleepwalker and, as he came to her and put his

hand upon her arm, he spoke like a sleepwalker.

"She asked for you," he said. "She asked for you."

"Can I see her now?" She turned toward the closed door of

Melanie's room.

"No. Dr. Meade is in there now. I'm glad you've come, Scarlett."

"I came as quickly as I could." Scarlett shed her bonnet and her

cloak. "The train-- She isn't really-- Tell me, she's better,

isn't she, Ashley? Speak to me! Don't look like that! She isn't

really--"

"She kept asking for you," said Ashley and looked her in the eyes.

And, in his eyes she saw the answer to her question. For a moment,

her heart stood still and then a queer fear, stronger than anxiety,

stronger than grief, began to beat in her breast. It can't be

true, she thought vehemently, trying to push back the fear.

Doctors make mistakes. I won't think it's true. I can't let

myself think it's true. I'll scream if I do. I must think of

something else.

"I don't believe it!" she cried stormily, looking into the three

drawn faces as though defying them to contradict her. "And why

didn't Melanie tell me? I'd never have gone to Marietta if I'd

known!"

Ashley's eyes awoke and were tormented.

"She didn't tell anyone, Scarlett, especially not you. She was

afraid you'd scold her if you knew. She wanted to wait three--till

she thought it safe and sure and then surprise you all and laugh

and say how wrong the doctors had been. And she was so happy. You

know how she was about babies--how much she's wanted a little girl.

And everything went so well until--and then for no reason at all--"

The door of Melanie's room opened quietly and Dr. Meade came out

into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He stood for a

moment, his gray beard sunk on his chest, and looked at the

suddenly frozen four. His gaze fell last on Scarlett. As he came

toward her, she saw that there was grief in his eyes and also

dislike and contempt that flooded her frightened heart with guilt.

"So you finally got here," he said.

Before she could answer, Ashley started toward the closed door.

"Not you, yet," said the doctor. "She wants to speak to Scarlett."

"Doctor," said India, putting a hand on his sleeve. Though her

voice was toneless, it plead more loudly than words. "Let me see

her for a moment. I've been here since this morning, waiting, but

she-- Let me see her for a moment. I want to tell her--must tell

her--that I was wrong about--something."

She did not look at Ashley or Scarlett as she spoke, but Dr. Meade

allowed his cold glance to fall on Scarlett.

"I'll see, Miss India," he said briefly. "But only if you'll give

me your word not to use up her strength telling her you were wrong.

She knows you were wrong and it will only worry her to hear you

apologize."

Pitty began, timidly: "Please, Dr. Meade--"

"Miss Pitty, you know you'd scream and faint."

Pitty drew up her stout little body and gave the doctor glance for

glance. Her eyes were dry and there was dignity in every curve.

"Well, all right, honey, a little later," said the doctor, more

kindly. "Come, Scarlett."

They tiptoed down the hall to the closed door and the doctor put

his hand on Scarlett's shoulder in a hard grip.

"Now, Miss," he whispered briefly, "no hysterics and no deathbed

confessions from you or, before God, I will wring your neck! Don't

give me any of your innocent stares. You know what I mean. Miss

Melly is going to die easily and you aren't going to ease your own

conscience by telling her anything about Ashley. I've never harmed