minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"But where was I running?"

Her breath came more easily now and she sat with her hand pressed
to her side and looked up Peachtree Street. There, at the top of
the hill, was her own house. It looked as though every window bore
lights, lights defying the mist to dim their brilliance. Home! It
was real! She looked at the dim far-off bulk of the house
thankfully, longingly, and something like calm fell on her spirit.

Home! That was where she wanted to go. That was where she was
running. Home to Rhett!

At this realization it was as though chains fell away from her and
with them the fear which had haunted her dreams since the night she
stumbled to Tara to find the world ended. At the end of the road
to Tara she had found security gone, all strength, all wisdom, all
loving tenderness, all understanding gone--all those things which,
embodied in Ellen, had been the bulwark of her girlhood. And,
though she had won material safety since that night, in her dreams
she was still a frightened child, searching for the lost security
of that lost world.

Now she knew the haven she had sought in dreams, the place of warm
safety which had always been hidden from her in the mist. It was
not Ashley--oh, never Ashley! There was no more warmth in him than
in a marsh light, no more security than in quicksand. It was
Rhett--Rhett who had strong arms to hold her, a broad chest to
pillow her tired head, jeering laughter to pull her affairs into
proper perspective. And complete understanding, because he, like
her, saw truth as truth, unobstructed by impractical notions of
honor, sacrifice, or high belief in human nature. He loved her!
Why hadn't she realized that he loved her, for all his taunting
remarks to the contrary? Melanie had seen it and with her last
breath had said, "Be kind to him."

"Oh," she thought, "Ashley's not the only stupidly blind person. I
should have seen."

For years she had had her back against the stone wall of Rhett's
love and had taken it as much for granted as she had taken
Melanie's love, flattering herself that she drew her strength from
herself alone. And even as she had realized earlier in the evening
that Melanie had been beside her in her bitter campaigns against
life, now she knew that silent in the background, Rhett had stood,
loving her, understanding her, ready to help. Rhett at the bazaar,
reading her impatience in her eyes and leading her out in the reel,
Rhett helping her out of the bondage of mourning, Rhett convoying
her through the fire and explosions the night Atlanta fell, Rhett
lending her the money that gave her her start, Rhett who comforted
her when she woke in the nights crying with fright from her dreams--
why, no man did such things without loving a woman to distraction!

The trees dripped dampness upon her but she did not feel it. The
mist swirled about her and she paid it no heed. For when she
thought of Rhett, with his swarthy face, flashing teeth and dark
alert eyes, a trembling came over her.

"I love him," she thought and, as always, she accepted the truth
with little wonder, as a child accepting a gift. "I don't know how
long I've loved him but it's true. And if it hadn't been for
Ashley, I'd have realized it long ago. I've never been able to see
the world at all, because Ashley stood in the way."

She loved him, scamp, blackguard, without scruple or honor--at
least, honor as Ashley saw it. "Damn Ashley's honor!" she thought.
"Ashley's honor has always let me down. Yes, from the very
beginning when he kept on coming to see me, even though he knew his
family expected him to marry Melanie. Rhett has never let me down,
even that dreadful night of Melly's reception when he ought to have
wrung my neck. Even when he left me on the road the night Atlanta
fell, he knew I'd be safe. He knew I'd get through somehow. Even
when he acted like he was going to make me pay to get that money
from him at the Yankee camp. He wouldn't have taken me. He was
just testing me. He's loved me all along and I've been so mean to
him. Time and again, I've hurt him and he was too proud to show
it. And when Bonnie died-- Oh, how could I?"

She stood up straight and looked at the house on the hill. She had
thought, half an hour ago, that she had lost everything in the
world, except money, everything that made life desirable, Ellen,
Gerald, Bonnie, Mammy, Melanie and Ashley. She had to lose them
all to realize that she loved Rhett--loved him because he was
strong and unscrupulous, passionate and earthy, like herself.

"I'll tell him everything," she thought. "He'll understand. He's
always understood. I'll tell him what a fool I've been and how
much I love him and I'll make it up to him."

Suddenly she felt strong and happy. She was not afraid of the
darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that
she would never fear them again. No matter what mists might curl
around her in the future, she knew her refuge. She started briskly
up the street toward home and the blocks seemed very long. Far,
far too long. She caught up her skirts to her knees and began to
run lightly. But this time she was not running from fear. She was
running because Rhett's arms were at the end of the street.



CHAPTER LXIII

"But where was I running?"

Her breath came more easily now and she sat with her hand pressed

to her side and looked up Peachtree Street. There, at the top of

the hill, was her own house. It looked as though every window bore

lights, lights defying the mist to dim their brilliance. Home! It

was real! She looked at the dim far-off bulk of the house

thankfully, longingly, and something like calm fell on her spirit.

Home! That was where she wanted to go. That was where she was

running. Home to Rhett!

At this realization it was as though chains fell away from her and

with them the fear which had haunted her dreams since the night she

stumbled to Tara to find the world ended. At the end of the road

to Tara she had found security gone, all strength, all wisdom, all

loving tenderness, all understanding gone--all those things which,

embodied in Ellen, had been the bulwark of her girlhood. And,

though she had won material safety since that night, in her dreams

she was still a frightened child, searching for the lost security

of that lost world.

Now she knew the haven she had sought in dreams, the place of warm

safety which had always been hidden from her in the mist. It was

not Ashley--oh, never Ashley! There was no more warmth in him than

in a marsh light, no more security than in quicksand. It was

Rhett--Rhett who had strong arms to hold her, a broad chest to

pillow her tired head, jeering laughter to pull her affairs into

proper perspective. And complete understanding, because he, like

her, saw truth as truth, unobstructed by impractical notions of

honor, sacrifice, or high belief in human nature. He loved her!

Why hadn't she realized that he loved her, for all his taunting

remarks to the contrary? Melanie had seen it and with her last

breath had said, "Be kind to him."

"Oh," she thought, "Ashley's not the only stupidly blind person. I

should have seen."

For years she had had her back against the stone wall of Rhett's

love and had taken it as much for granted as she had taken

Melanie's love, flattering herself that she drew her strength from

herself alone. And even as she had realized earlier in the evening

that Melanie had been beside her in her bitter campaigns against

life, now she knew that silent in the background, Rhett had stood,

loving her, understanding her, ready to help. Rhett at the bazaar,

reading her impatience in her eyes and leading her out in the reel,

Rhett helping her out of the bondage of mourning, Rhett convoying

her through the fire and explosions the night Atlanta fell, Rhett

lending her the money that gave her her start, Rhett who comforted

her when she woke in the nights crying with fright from her dreams--

why, no man did such things without loving a woman to distraction!

The trees dripped dampness upon her but she did not feel it. The

mist swirled about her and she paid it no heed. For when she

thought of Rhett, with his swarthy face, flashing teeth and dark

alert eyes, a trembling came over her.

"I love him," she thought and, as always, she accepted the truth

with little wonder, as a child accepting a gift. "I don't know how

long I've loved him but it's true. And if it hadn't been for

Ashley, I'd have realized it long ago. I've never been able to see

the world at all, because Ashley stood in the way."

She loved him, scamp, blackguard, without scruple or honor--at

least, honor as Ashley saw it. "Damn Ashley's honor!" she thought.

"Ashley's honor has always let me down. Yes, from the very

beginning when he kept on coming to see me, even though he knew his

family expected him to marry Melanie. Rhett has never let me down,

even that dreadful night of Melly's reception when he ought to have

wrung my neck. Even when he left me on the road the night Atlanta

fell, he knew I'd be safe. He knew I'd get through somehow. Even

when he acted like he was going to make me pay to get that money

from him at the Yankee camp. He wouldn't have taken me. He was

just testing me. He's loved me all along and I've been so mean to

him. Time and again, I've hurt him and he was too proud to show

it. And when Bonnie died-- Oh, how could I?"

She stood up straight and looked at the house on the hill. She had

thought, half an hour ago, that she had lost everything in the

world, except money, everything that made life desirable, Ellen,

Gerald, Bonnie, Mammy, Melanie and Ashley. She had to lose them

all to realize that she loved Rhett--loved him because he was

strong and unscrupulous, passionate and earthy, like herself.

"I'll tell him everything," she thought. "He'll understand. He's

always understood. I'll tell him what a fool I've been and how

much I love him and I'll make it up to him."

Suddenly she felt strong and happy. She was not afraid of the

darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that

she would never fear them again. No matter what mists might curl

around her in the future, she knew her refuge. She started briskly

up the street toward home and the blocks seemed very long. Far,

far too long. She caught up her skirts to her knees and began to

run lightly. But this time she was not running from fear. She was

running because Rhett's arms were at the end of the street.

CHAPTER LXIII