scarlett was in marietta when rhett’s urgent telegram came. there was a train leaving foratlanta in ten minutes and she caught it, carrying no baggage except her reticule and leaving wadeand ella at the hotel with prissy.
atlanta was only twenty miles away but the train crawled interminably through the wet earlyautumn afternoon, stopping at every bypath for passengers. panic stricken at rhett’s message, madfor speed, scarlett almost screamed at every halt. down the road lumbered the train through forests faintly, tiredly gold, past red hillsides still scarred with serpentine breastworks, past old battery emplacementsand weed-grown craters, down the road over which johnston’s men had retreated sobitterly, fighting every step of the way. each station, each crossroad the conductor called was thename of a battle, the site of a skirmish. once they would have stirred scarlett to memories of terrorbut now she had no thought for them.
rhett’s message had been:
“mrs. wilkes ill. come home immediately.”
twilight had fallen when the train pulled into atlanta and a light misting rain obscured the town.
the gas street lamps glowed dully, blobs of yellow in the fog. rhett was waiting for her at thedepot with the carriage. the very sight of his face frightened her more than his telegram. she hadnever seen it so expressionless before.
“she isn’t—” she cried.
“no. she’s still alive.” rhett assisted her into the carriage. “to mrs. wilkes’ house and as fast asyou can go,” he ordered the coachman.
“what’s the matter with her? i didn’t know she was ill. she looked all right last week. did shehave an accident? oh, rhett, it isn’t really as serious as you—”
“she’s dying,” said rhett and his voice had no more expression than his face. “she wants to seeyou.”
“not melly! oh, not melly! what’s happened to her?”
“she’s had a miscarriage.”
“a—a-mis—but, rhett, she—” scarlett floundered. this information on top of the horror of hisannouncement took her breath away.
“you did not know she was going to have a baby?”
she could not even shake her head.
“ah, well. i suppose not. i don’t think she told anyone. she wanted it to be a surprise. but iknew.”
“you knew? but surely she didn’t tell you!”
she didn’t have to tell me. i knew. she’s been so—happy these last two months i knew itcouldn’t mean anything else.”
“but rhett, the doctor said it would kill her to have another baby!”
“it has killed her,” said rhett. and to the coachman: “for god’s sake, can’t you drive faster?”
“but, rhett, she can’t be dying! i—i didn’t and i—”
“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 yellowlamplight were ashley, aunt pitty and india. scarlett thought: “what’s india doing here? melanietold her never to set foot in this house again.” the three rose at the sight of her, aunt pitty bitingher trembling lips to still them, india staring at her, grief stricken and without hate. ashley lookeddull as a sleepwalker and, as he came to her and put his hand upon her arm, he spoke like asleepwalker.
“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’treally— 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 theanswer to her question. for a moment, her heart stood still and then a queer fear, stronger thananxiety, 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 thinkit’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 defyingthem to contradict her. “and why didn’t melanie tell me? i’d never have gone to marietta if i’dknown!”
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 andsay 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 reasonat all—”
the door of melanie’s room opened quietly and dr. meade came out into the hall, shutting thedoor behind him. he stood for a moment, his gray beard sunk on his chest, and looked at thesuddenly frozen four. his gaze fell last on scarlett. as he came toward her, she saw that there wasgrief 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 moreloudly than words. “let me see her for a moment. i’ve been here since this morning, waiting, butshe— 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 fallon scarlett.
“i’ll see, miss india,” he said briefly. “but only if you’ll give me your word not to use up herstrength telling her you were wrong. she knows you were wrong and it will only worry her to hearyou 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 andthere 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 shoulderin 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 imean. miss melly is going to die easily and you aren’t going to ease your own conscience bytelling her anything about ashley. i’ve never harmed a woman yet, but if you say anything now—you’ll answer to me.”
he opened the door before she could answer, pushed her into the room and closed the doorbehind her. the little room, cheaply furnished in black walnut, was in semi-darkness, the lampshaded with a newspaper. it was as small and prim a room as a schoolgirl’s, the narrow little low-backed bed, the plain net curtains looped back, the clean faded rag rugs on the floor, were sodifferent from the lavishness of scarlett’s own bedroom with its towering carved furniture, pinkbrocade draperies and rose-strewn carpet.
melanie lay in the bed, her figure under the counterpane shrunken and flat like a little girl’s.
two black braids fell on either side of her face and her closed eyes were sunken in twin purplecircles. at the sight of her scarlett stood transfixed, leaning against the door. despite the gloom ofthe room, she could see that melanie’s face was of a waxy yellow color. it was drained of life’sblood and there was a pinched look about the nose. until that moment, scarlett had hoped dr.
meade was mistaken. but now she knew. in the hospitals during the war she had seen too manyfaces wearing this pinched look not to know what it inevitably presaged.
melanie was dying, but for a moment scarlett’s mind refused to take it in. melanie could notdie. it was impossible for her to die. god wouldn’t let her die when she, scarlett, needed her somuch. never before had it occurred to her that she needed melanie. but now, the truth surged in,down to the deepest recesses of her soul. she had relied on melanie, even as she had relied uponherself, and she had never known it. now, melanie was dying and scarlett knew she could not getalong without her. now, as she tiptoed across the room toward the quiet figure, panic clutching ather heart, she knew that melanie had been her sword and her shield, her comfort and her strength.
“i must hold her! i can’t let her get away!” she thought and sank beside the bed with a rustle of skirts. hastily she grasped the limp hand lying on the coverlet and was frightened anew by its chill.
“it’s me, melly,” she said.
melanie’s eyes opened a slit and then, as if having satisfied herself that it was really scarlett, sheclosed them again. after a pause she drew a breath and whispered:
“promise me?”
“oh, anything!”
“beau—look after him.”
scarlett could only nod, a strangled feeling in her throat, and she gently pressed the hand sheheld by way of assent.
“i give him to you.” there was the faintest trace of a smile. “i gave him to you, once before—‘member?—before he was born.”
did she remember? could she ever forget that time? almost as clearly as if that dreadful dayhad returned, she could feel the stifling heat of the september noon, remembering her terror of theyankees, hear the tramp of the retreating troops, recall melanie’s voice begging her to take thebaby should she die—remember, too, how she had hated melanie that day and hoped that shewould die.
“i’ve killed her,” she thought, in superstitious agony. “i wished so often she would die and godheard me and is punishing me.”
“oh, melly, don’t talk like that! you know you’ll pull through this—”
“no. promise.”
scarlett gulped.
“you know i promise. i’ll treat him like he was my own boy.”
“college?” asked melanie’s fault flat voice.
“oh, yes! the university and harvard and europe and anything he wants—and—and—a pony—and music lessons— oh, please, melly, do try! do make an effort!”
the silence fell again and on melanie’s face there were signs of a struggle to gather strength tospeak.
“ashley,” she said. “ashley and you—” her voice faltered into stillness.
at the mention of ashley’s name, scarlett’s heart stood still, cold as granite within her. melaniehad known all the time. scarlett dropped her head on the coverlet and a sob that would not risecaught her throat with a cruel hand. melanie knew. scarlett was beyond shame now, beyond anyfeeling save a wild remorse that she had hurt this gentle creature throughout the long years.
melanie had known—and yet, she had remained her loyal friend. oh, if she could only live thoseyears over again! she would never even let her eyes meet those of ashley.
“o god,” she prayed rapidly, “do, please, let her live! i’ll make it up to her. i’ll be so good toher. i’ll never even speak to ashley again as long as i live, if you’ll only let her get well!”
“ashley,” said melanie feebly and her fingers readied out to touch scarlett’s bowed head. herthumb and forefinger tugged with no more strength than that of a baby at scarlett’s hair. scarlettknew what that meant, knew melanie wanted her to look up. but she could not, could not meetmelanie’s eyes and read that knowledge in them.
“ashley,” melanie whispered again and scarlett gripped herself. when she looked god in theface on the day of judgment and read her sentence in his eyes, it would not be as bad as this. hersoul cringed but she raised her head.
she saw only the same dark loving eyes, sunken and drowsy with death, the same tender mouthtiredly fighting pain for breath. no reproach was there, no accusation and no fear—only an anxietythat she might not find strength for words.
for a moment scarlett was too stunned to even feel relief. then, as she held melanie’s handmore closely, a flood of warm gratitude to god swept over her and, for the first time since herchildhood, she said a humble, unselfish prayer.
“thank you, god. i know i’m not worth it but thank you for not letting her know.”
“what about ashley, melly?”
“you’ll—look after him?”
“oh, yes.”
“he catches cold—so easily.”
there was a pause.
“look after—his business—you understand?”
“yes, i understand. i will.”
she made a great effort.
“ashley isn’t—practical.”
only death could have forced that disloyalty from melanie.
“look after him, scarlett—but—don’t ever let him know.”
“i’ll look after him and the business too, and i’ll never let him know. i’ll just kind of suggestthings to him.”
melanie managed a small smile but it was a triumphant one as her eyes met scarlett’s again.
their glance sealed the bargain that the protection of ashley wilkes from a too harsh world waspassing from one woman to another and that ashley’s masculine pride should never be humbled bythis knowledge.
now the struggle went out of the tired face as though with scarlett’s promise, ease had come toher.
“you’re so smart—so brave—always been so good to me—”
at these words, the sob came freely to scarlett’s throat and she clapped her hand over hermouth. now, she was going to bawl like a child and cry out: “i’ve been a devil! i’ve wronged you so! i never did anything for you! it was all for ashley.”
she rose to her feet abruptly, sinking her teeth into her thumb to regain her control. rhett’swords came back to her again, “she loves you. let that be your cross.” well, the cross was heaviernow. it was bad enough that she had tried by every art to take ashley from her. but now it wasworse that melanie, who had trusted her blindly through life, was laying the same love and trust onher in death. no, she could not speak. she could not even say again: “make an effort to live.” shemust let her go easily, without a struggle, without tears, without sorrow.
the door opened slightly and dr. meade stood on the threshold, beckoning imperiously. scarlettbent over the bed, choking back her tears and taking melanie’s hand, laid it against her cheek.
“good night,” she said, and her voice was steadier than she thought it possibly could be.
“promise me—” came the whisper, very softly now.
“anything, darling.”
“captain butler—be kind to him. he—loves you so.”
“rhett?” thought scarlett, bewildered, and the words meant nothing to her.
“yes, indeed,” she said automatically and, pressing a light kiss on the hand, laid it back on thebed.
“tell the ladies to come in immediately,” whispered the doctor as she passed through the door.
through blurred eyes she saw india and pitty follow the doctor into the room, holding theirskirts close to their sides to keep them from rustling. the door closed behind them and the housewas still. ashley was nowhere to be seen. scarlett leaned her head against the wall, like a naughtychild in a corner, and rubbed her aching throat.
behind that door, melanie was going and, with her, the strength upon which she had reliedunknowingly for so many years. why, oh, why, had she not realized before this how much sheloved and needed melanie? but who would have thought of small plain melanie as a tower ofstrength? melanie who was shy to tears before strangers, timid about raising her voice in anopinion of her own, fearful of the disapproval of old ladies, melanie who lacked the courage to sayboo to a goose? and yet—scarlett’s mind went back through the years to the still, hot noon at tara when gray smokecurled above a blue-clad body and melanie stood at the top of the stairs with charles’ saber in herhand. scarlett remembered that she had thought at the time: “how silly! melly couldn’t even heftthat sword!” but now she knew that had the necessity arisen, melanie would have charged downthose stairs and killed the yankee—or been killed herself.
yes, melanie had been there that day with a sword in her small hand, ready to do battle for her.
and now, as scarlett looked sadly back, she realized that melanie had always been there beside herwith a sword in her hand, unobtrusive as her own shadow, loving her, fighting for her with blindpassionate loyalty, fighting yankees, fire, hunger, poverty, public opinion and even her belovedblood kin.
scarlett felt her courage and self-confidence ooze from her as she realized that the sword which had flashed between her and the world was sheathed forever.
“melly is the only woman friend i ever had,” she thought forlornly, “the only woman exceptmother who really loved me. she’s like mother, too. everyone who knew her has clung to herskirts.”
suddenly it was as if ellen were lying behind that closed door, leaving the world for a secondtime. suddenly she was standing at tara again with the world about her ears, desolate with theknowledge that she could not face life without the terrible strength of the weak, the gentle, thetender hearted.
she stood in the hall, irresolute, frightened, and the glaring light of the fire in the sitting roomthrew tall dim shadows on the walls about her. the house was utterly still and the stillness soakedinto her like a fine chill rain. ashley! where was ashley?
she went toward the sitting room seeking him like a cold animal seeking the fire but he was notthere. she must find him. she had discovered melanie’s strength and her dependence on it only tolose it in the moment of discovery but there was still ashley left. there was ashley who wasstrong and wise and comforting. in ashley and his love lay strength upon which to lay herweakness, courage to bolster her fear, ease for her sorrow.
he must be in his room, she thought, and tiptoeing down the hall, she knocked softly. there wasno answer, so she pushed the door open. ashley was standing in front of the dresser, looking at apair of melanie’s mended gloves. first he picked up one and looked at it, as though he had neverseen it before. then he laid it down gently, as though it were made of glass, and picked up theother one.
she said: “ ashley!” in a trembling voice and he turned slowly and looked at her. the drowsyaloofness had gone from his gray eyes and they were wide and unmasked. in them she saw fearthat matched her own fear, helplessness weaker than her own, bewilderment more profound thanshe would ever know. the feeling of dread which had possessed her in the hall deepened as shesaw his face. she went toward him.
“i’m frightened,” she said. “oh, ashley, hold me. i’m so frightened!”
he made no move to her but stared, gripping the glove tightly in both hands. she put a hand onhis arm and whispered: “what is it?”
his eyes searched her intently, hunting, hunting desperately for something he did not find.
finally he spoke and his voice was not his own.
“i was wanting you,” he said. “i was going to run and find you—run like a child wantingcomfort—and i find a child, more frightened, running to me.”
“not you—you can’t be frightened,” she cried. “nothing has ever frightened you. but i—you’ve always been so strong—”
“if i’ve ever been strong, it was because she was behind me,” he said, his voice breaking, and helooked down at the glove and smoothed the fingers. “and—and—all the strength i ever had isgoing with her.”
there was such a note of wild despair in his low voice that she dropped her hand from his armand stepped back. and in the heavy silence that fell between them, she felt that she reallyunderstood him for the first time in her life.
“why—” she said slowly, “why, ashley, you love her, don’t you?”
he spoke as with an effort.
“she is the only dream i ever had that lived and breathed and did not die in the face of reality.”
“dreams!” she thought, an old irritation stirring. “always dreams with him! never commonsense!”
with a heart that was heavy and a little bitter, she said: “you’ve been such a fool, ashley. whycouldn’t you see that she was worth a million of me?”
“scarlett, please! if you only knew what i’ve gone through since the doctor—”
“what you’ve gone through! don’t you think that i— oh, ashley, you should have known,years ago, that you loved her and not me! why didn’t you! everything would have been sodifferent, so— oh, you should have realized and not kept me dangling with all your talk abouthonor and sacrifice! if you’d told me, years ago, i’d have— it would have killed me but i couldhave stood it somehow. but you wait till now, till melly’s dying, to find it out and now it’s too lateto do anything. oh, ashley, men are supposed to know such things—not women! you should haveseen so clearly that you loved her all the time and only wanted me like—like rhett wants thatwatling woman!”
he winced at her words but his eyes still met hers, imploring silence, comfort. every line of hisface admitted the truth of her words. the very droop of his shoulders showed that his own self-castigation was more cruel than any she could give. he stood silent before her, clutching the glovethough it were an understanding hand and, in the stillness that followed her words, herind(as) ignation fell away and pity, tinged with contempt, took its place. her conscience smote her. shewas kicking a beaten and defenseless man—and she had promised melanie that she would lookafter him.
“and just as soon as i promised her, i said mean, hurting things to him and there’s no need forme to say them or for anyone to say them. he knows the truth and it’s killing him,” she thoughtdesolately. “he’s not grown up. he’s a child, like me, and he’s sick with fear at losing her. mellyknew how it would be—melly knew him far better than i do. that’s why she said look after himand beau, in the same breath. how can ashley ever stand this? i can stand it. i can stand anything.
i’ve had to stand so much. but he can’t—he can’t stand anything without her.”
“forgive me, darling,” she said gently, putting out her arms. “i know what you must besuffering. but remember, she doesn’t know anything—she never even suspected— god was thatgood to us.”
he came to her quickly and his arms went round her blindly. she tiptoed to bring her warmcheek comfortingly against his and with one hand she smoothed the back of his hair.
“don’t cry, sweet. she’d want you to be brave. she’ll want to see you in a moment and you mustbe brave. she mustn’t see that you’ve been crying. it would worry her.”
he held her in a grip that made breathing difficult and his choking voice was in her ear.
“what will i do? i can’t—i can’t live without her!”
“i can’t either,” she thought, shuddering away from the picture of the long years to come,without melanie. but she caught herself in a strong grasp. ashley was depending on her, melaniewas depending on her. as once before, in the moonlight at tara, drunk, exhausted, she had thought:
“burdens are for shoulders strong enough to carry them.” well, her shoulders were strong andashley’s were not. she squared her shoulders for the load and with a calmness she was far fromfeeling, kissed his wet cheek without fever or longing or passion, only with cool gentleness.
“we shall manage—somehow,” she said.
a door opened with sudden violence into the hall and dr. meade called with sharp urgency:
“ashley! quick!”
“my god! she’s gone!” thought scarlett “and ashley didn’t get to tell her good-by! but maybe—”
“hurry!” she cried aloud, giving him a push, for he stood staring like one stunned. “hurry!”
she pulled open the door and motioned him through. galvanized by her words, he ran into thehall, the glove still clasped closely in his hand. she heard his rapid steps for a moment and then theclosing of a door.
she said, “my god!” again and walking slowly to the bed, sat down upon it and dropped herhead in her hands. she was suddenly tired, more tired than she had ever been in all her life. withthe sound of the closing door, the strain under which she had been laboring, the strain which hadgiven her strength, suddenly snapped. she felt exhausted in body and drained of emotions. nowshe felt no sorrow or remorse, no fear or amazement. she was tired and her mind ticked awaydully, mechanically, as the clock on the mantel.
out of the dullness, one thought arose. ashley did not love her and had never really loved herand the knowledge did not hurt. it should hurt. she should be desolate, broken hearted, ready toscream at fate. she had relied upon his love for so long. it had upheld her through so many darkplaces. yet, there the truth was. he did not love her and she did not care. she did not care becauseshe did not love him. she did not love him and so nothing he could do or say could hurt her.
she lay down on the bed and put her head on the pillow tiredly. useless to try to combat theidea, useless to say to herself: “but i do love him. i’ve loved him for years. love can’t change toapathy in a minute.”
but it could change and it had changed.
“he never really existed at all, except in my imagination,” she thought wearily. “i lovedsomething i made up, something that’s just as dead as melly is. i made a pretty suit of clothes andfell in love with it. and when ashley came riding along, so handsome, so different, i put that suiton him and made him wear it whether it fitted him or not. and i wouldn’t see what he really was. ikept on loving the pretty clothes—and not him at all.”
now she could look back down the long years and see herself in green flowered dimity, standing in the sunshine at tara, thrilled by the young horseman with his blond hair shining like a silverhelmet. she could see so clearly now that he was only a childish fancy, no more important reallythan her spoiled desire for the aquamarine earbobs she had coaxed out of gerald. for, once sheowned the earbobs, they had lost their value, as everything except money lost its value once it washers. and so he, too, would have become cheap if, in those first far-away days, she had ever hadthe satisfaction of refusing to marry him. if she had ever had him at her mercy, seen him grownpassionate, importunate, jealous, sulky, pleading, like the other boys, the wild infatuation whichhad possessed her would have passed, blowing away as lightly as mist before sunshine and lightwind when she met a new man.
“what a fool i’ve been,” she thought bitterly. “and now i’ve got to pay for it what i’ve wishedfor so often has happened. i’ve wished melly was dead so i could have him. and now she’s deadand i’ve got him and i don’t want him. his damned honor will make him ask me if i want todivorce rhett and marry him. marry him? i wouldn’t have him on a silver platter! but, just thesame i’ve got him round my neck for the rest of my life. as long as i live i’ll have to look afterhim and see that he doesn’t starve and that people don’t hurt his feelings. he’ll be just anotherchild, clinging to my skirts. i’ve lost my lover and i’ve got another child. and if i hadn’t promisedmelly, i’d—i wouldn’t care if i never saw him again.”
思嘉是在马里塔时收到瑞德的加急电报的。恰好就有一趟去亚特兰大的火车，十分钟后开。她便搭上了，除了一个手提网袋没带任何行李，把韦德和爱拉留在旅馆里由百里茜照看着。
亚特兰大离马里塔只有二十英里，可是火车在多雨的初秋下午断断续续地爬行着，在每条小径旁都要停车让行人通过。思嘉已被瑞德的电报吓慌了，急于赶路，因此每一停车都要气得大叫起来。列车笨拙地行进，穿过微带金黄色的森林，经过残留着蛇形胸墙的红色山坡，经过旧的炮兵掩体和长满野草的弹坑。在这条路上，约翰斯顿的部队狼狈撤退时曾经一步步苦战不已。对每一个站和每一个十字路口，列车员都是以一个战役或一次交火的名称来称呼。要是在过去，这会引起思嘉回想当时的恐怖情景，可现在她不去想这些了。
瑞德的电报是这样的：
“威尔克斯太太病重速归。”
火车驶进亚特兰大时，暮色已浓，加上一片蒙蒙细雨，城市就更显得朦胧不清了。街灯暗淡地照着，像雾中一些昏黄的斑点似的。瑞德带着一辆马车在车站等候她。她一看他的脸色，便比收到的电报时惊慌了。她以前从没见过他这样毫无表情呢。
“她没有----"她惊叫道。
“没有。她还活着。"瑞德搀扶着她上了马车。"去威尔克斯太太家，越快越好，“他这样吩咐车夫。
“她怎么了？我没听说她生病嘛。上星期还好好的。她遇到了什么意外吗？唔，瑞德，情况并不像你说的那么严重吧？"“她快死了，"瑞德说，声音也像面色一样毫无表情：“她要见你。"“媚兰不会的！啊，媚兰不会的！她究竟出了什么毛病呀？"“她小产了。"“小----产，可是，瑞德，她----"思嘉早已给吓得说不出话。这个消息紧跟着瑞德宣布的濒危状况，使她连气都喘不过来了。
“你不知道她怀孕了吗？”
她甚至连头也没有摇一遥
“哎，是的，我看你不会知道。我想她不会告诉任何人的。
她要叫人家大吃一惊呢。不过我知道。"“你知道？她绝不会告诉你的！”“她没有必要告诉我。不过我能猜到。最近两个月她显得那么高兴，我就猜这不可能是别的原故。"”可是瑞德，大夫曾说过，如果再生孩子就要她的命了！”“现在就要她的命了，"瑞德说。接着他责问马车夫：“看在上帝面上，你能不能更快一点？"“不过，瑞德，她不见得会死的！我----我都没有-—"“她的抵抗力没有你好。她一向是没有什么抵抗力的。除了一颗好心以外，她什么也没有。"马车在一座小小的平房前嘎的一声停住，瑞德扶她下了车，她胆颤心惊，一种突如起来的孤独感袭上心头为，她紧紧抓住他的臂膀。
“你也进去吧，瑞德？”
“不，"他说了一声便回到马车里去了。
她奔上屋前的台阶，穿过走廊，把门推开。艾希礼、皮蒂姑妈和英迪亚坐在昏黄的灯光下。思嘉心想：“英迪亚在这里干什么呢？媚兰早已说过叫她永远也不要再进这个门嘛。”那三个人一见到她便站起身来，皮蒂姑妈紧紧咬着嘴唇不让它们颤抖；英迪亚瞪大眼睛注视着她，看来完全是为了悲伤而没有恨的意思。艾希礼目光呆滞，像个梦游人似的向她走来，伸出一只手握住她的胳臂，又像个梦游人似的对她说话。
“她要见你，"他说，“她要见你。”
“我现在就去看她好吗？"她回头看看媚兰的卧室，卧室是关着的。
“不，米德大夫在里面。我很高兴你回来了，思嘉。"“我是尽快赶回来的。“思嘉将帽子和外衣脱了。"火车----她不是真的----告诉我，她好些了，是不是，艾希礼？你说呀！别这样愣着嘛！她不见得真的----"“她一直要见你呢，"艾希礼说，凝视着她的眼睛。同时思嘉从他的眼神里找到了答案。瞬时间，她的心像停止了跳动，接着是一种可怕的恐惧，比焦急和悲哀更强大的恐惧，它开始在她的胸膛里蹦跳了。这不可能是真的，她热切地想，试着把恐惧挡回去。大夫有时也会作出错误的诊断呢，我决不相信这是真的。我不能说服自己相信这是真的。我要是相信便会尖叫起来了。我现在得想想别的事情了。
“我决不相信！"她大声喊道，一面注视着面前那三张绷紧的面孔，仿佛质问他们敢不敢反驳似的。"为什么媚兰没告诉我呢？如果我早已经知道，就不会到马里塔去了。"艾希礼的眼神好像忽然清醒过来，感到很痛苦似的。
“她没有告诉任何人，思嘉，特别是没有告诉你。她怕你知道了会责备她。她想等待三个月----到她认为已经安稳和有把握了的时候才说出来，叫你们全都大吃一惊，并笑话大夫们居然诊断错了。而且她是非常高兴的。你知道她对婴儿的那种态度----她多么希望有个小女孩。何况一切都顺利，直到----后来，无原无故地----"媚兰的房门悄悄地开了，米德大夫从里面走出来，随手把门带上。他在那里站立了一会，那把灰色胡子垂在胸前，眼睛望着那四个突然吓呆了的人。他的眼光最后落到思嘉身上。
他向她走来时，思嘉发现他眼中充满了悲伤，同时也含有厌恶和轻蔑之情，这使她惊慌的心里顿时涌起满怀内疚。
“你毕竟还是来了，"他说。
她还没来得及回答，艾希礼便要向那关着的门走去。
“你先不要去，"大夫说。"她要跟思嘉说话呢。"“大夫，让我进去看她一眼吧，"英迪亚拉着他的衣袖着。
她的声音尽管听起来很平谈，但比大声的要求更加诚恳。"我今天一早就来了，一直等着，可是她----就让我去看看吧，哪怕一分钟也行。我要告诉她----一定要告诉她----我错了，在----在有些事情上。"她说这些时，眼睛没有看艾希礼或思嘉，可是米德大夫冷冷的目光却自然地落到了思嘉身上。
“等会儿再说吧，英迪亚小姐，"他简单地说。"不过你得答应我不说你错了这些话去刺激她。她知道是你错了。你这时候去道歉只会增加她的烦恼。"皮蒂也怯生生地开口了：”我请你，米德大夫----"“皮蒂小姐，你明白你是会尖叫的，会晕过去的。"皮蒂挺了挺她那胖胖的小个儿，向大夫妻一眼。她的眼睛是干的，但充满了庄严的神色。
“好吧，亲爱的，稍等一等，"大夫显得和气些了。"来吧，思嘉。"他们轻轻地走过穿堂，向那关着的门走去，一路上大夫的手紧紧抓住思嘉的肩膀。
“我说，小姐，"他低声说，"不要激动，也不要作什么临终时的忏悔，否则，凭上帝起誓，我会扭断你的脖子！你用不着这样呆呆地瞧着我。你明明懂得我的意思。我要让媚兰小姐平平静静地死去，你不要只顾减轻自己良心上的负担，告诉她关于艾希礼的什么事。我从没伤害过一个女人，可是如果你此刻说那种话----那后果就得由你自己承担了。"他没等她回答就把门打开，将她推进屋里，然后又关上门。那个小小的房间里陈设着廉价的黑胡桃木家具，灯上罩着报纸，处于一种半明半暗的状态。它狭小而整洁，像间女学生的卧室，里面摆着一张低背的小床，一顶扑素的网帐高高卷起，地板上铺着的那条破地毯早已褪色，但却刷得干干净净。这一切，跟思嘉卧室里的奢侈装饰，跟那些高耸的雕花家具、浅红锦缎的帷帐和织着玫瑰花的地毯比起来，是多么不一样啊！
媚兰躺在床上，床罩底下萎缩单薄的形体就像是个小女孩似的。两条黑黑的发辫垂在面颊两旁，闭着的眼睛深陷在一对紫色地圆圈里。思嘉见她这模样，倚着门框呆呆地站在那里，好像不能动弹了。尽管屋里阴暗，她还是看得清媚兰那张蜡黄的脸，她的脸干枯得一点血色也没有了，鼻子周围全皱缩了。在此以前，思嘉还一直希望是米德大夫诊断错了。
可现在她明白了。战争时期她在医院里见过那么多这种模样的面孔，她当然知道这预示着什么了。
媚兰快要死了，可是思嘉心里一时还不敢承认。因为媚兰是不会死的。死，对于她来说是决不可能的事。当她思嘉正需要她、那么迫切需要她的时候，上帝决不会让她死去。以前她从没想到自己会需要媚兰呢。可如今真理终于显出，在她灵魂的最深处显现了。她一向依靠媚兰，哪怕就在她依靠自己的时候，但是以前并没认识到。现在媚兰快死了，思嘉才彻底明白，没有她，自己是过不下去的。现在，她踮着脚尖向那个静静的身影走去，内心惶恐万状，她才知道媚兰一向是她剑和盾，是她的慰藉和力量啊！
“我一定要留住她！我决不能让她走！"她一面想，一面提着裙子在床边刷的一声颓然坐下。她立即抓起一只搁在床单上的软弱的手，发觉它已经冰凉，便又吓住了。
“我来了媚兰，"她说。
媚兰的眼睛睁开一条缝，接着，仿佛发现真是思嘉而感到很满意似的，又闭上眼，停了一会，她叹了一口气轻轻地说：“答应我吗？"“啊，什么都答应！”“小博----照顾他。”思嘉只能点点头，感到喉咙里被什么堵住了，同时紧紧捏了一下握着的那只手表示同意。
“我把他交给你了，"她脸上流露出一丝微微的笑容。"我从前已经把他交给过你一次----记得吗？----还在他出生以前。"她记不记得？她难道会忘记那个时候？她记得那档清清楚楚，她像那可怕的一天又回来了。她能感到那九月中午的闷热，记得她对北方佬的恐惧，听得见部分撤退时的沉重脚步声；记起了媚兰说如果自己死了便恳求她带走婴儿时的声音----还记得那天她恨透了媚兰，希望她死掉呢。
“是我害死了她，"她怀着一种迷信的恐惧这样想。"我以前时常巴望她死，上帝都听见了，因此现在要惩罚我了。"“啊，媚兰，别这样说了！你知道你是会闯过这一----"“不。请答应我。"思嘉忍不住要哽咽了。
“你知道我答应了。我会把他当做自己的孩子一样看待。"“上大学？"媚兰用微弱的声音说。
“唔，是的！上大学，到哈佛去，到欧洲去，只要他愿意，什么都行----还有----还有一匹小马驹----学音乐----唔，媚兰，你试试看！你使一把劲呀！"又没声息了，从媚兰脸上看得出她在挣扎着竭力要往下说。
“艾希礼，"她说，"艾希礼和你----"她的声音颤抖着，说不出来了。
听到提起艾希礼的名字，思嘉的心突然停止跳动，僵冷得像岩石似的。原来媚兰一向就知道埃思嘉把头伏在床单上，一阵被抑制的抽泣狠狠扼住她的喉咙。媚兰知道了。思嘉现在用不着害羞了。她没有任何别的感觉，只觉得万分痛恨，恨自己多年来始终在伤害这个和善的女人。媚兰早已知道----可是，她仍然继续做她的忠实朋友。唔，要是她能够把那些岁月重新过一遍，她就决不做那种事，对艾希礼连看都不会看一眼的！
“上帝啊，"她心里急忙祈祷，"求求你了，请让她活下去！
我一定要好好报答她。我要对她很好，很好。我这一辈子决不再跟艾希礼说一句话了，只要你让她好好活下去啊！"“艾希礼，"媚兰气息奄奄地说，一面将手指伸到思嘉那伏着的头上。她的大拇指和食指用微弱得像个婴儿似的力气拉了拉思嘉的头发。思嘉懂得这是什么意思，知道媚兰是要她抬起头来。但是她不能，她不能对媚兰的眼睛，并从中看出她已经知道了那件事的神色。
“艾希礼，"媚兰又一次低声说，同时思嘉极力克制自己，她此刻的心情难过到了极点，恐怕在最后审判日正视上帝并读着对她的判决时也不过如此了。她的灵魂在颤抖，但她还是抬起头来。
她看见的仍是同一双黑黑的亲切的眼睛，尽管因濒于死亡已经深陷而模糊了，还有那张在痛苦中无力地挣扎着要说出声来的温柔的嘴。没有责备，也没有指控和恐惧的意思----只有焦急，恨自己没有力气说话了。
思嘉一时间惊惶失措，还来不及产生放心的感觉。接着，当她把媚兰的手握得更紧时，一阵对上帝的感激之情涌上心头，同时，从童年时代起，她第一次在心中谦卑而无私地祈祷起来。
“感谢上帝。我知道我是不配的，但是我要感激您没有让他知道啊！"“关于艾希礼有什么事呢，媚兰？"“你会----照顾他吗？"“唔，会的。"“他感冒----很容易感冒。"又停了一会。
“照顾----他的事业----你明白吗？”
“唔，明白，我会照顾的。”
她作出一次很大的努力。
“艾希礼不----不能干。”
只有死亡才迫使媚兰说出了对他的批评。
“照顾他，思嘉----不过-—千万别让她知道。"“我会照顾他和他的事业，我也决不让他知道。我只用适当的方式向他建议。"媚兰尽力露出一丝放心的隐隐的微笑，但这是胜利的微笑，这时她的目光和思嘉的眼光又一次相遇了。她们彼此交换的这一片眼光便完成了一宗交易，那就是说，保护艾希礼不至于被这过于残酷的世界所捉弄的义务从一个女人转移到了另一个女人身上。同时，为了维护艾希礼的男性自尊心，保证决不让他知道这件事。
现在媚兰脸上已没有那种痛苦挣扎的神色了，仿佛在得到思嘉的许诺之后她又恢复了平静。
“你真聪明能干----真勇敢----一向待我那么好----"思嘉听了这些话，觉得喉咙里又堵得慌，忍不住要哽咽了，于是她用手拼命捂住自己的嘴。她几乎要像孩子似的大喊大叫，痛痛快地说：“我是个魔鬼！我一直是冤屈你的！我从来没替你做过任何什么事情！那全都是为了艾希礼呀！"她陡地站起身来，使劲地咬住自己的大拇指，想重新控制住自己。这时瑞德的话又回到她的耳边：“她是爱你的。让这成为你良心上一个十字架吧。"可如今这十字架更加沉重了。她曾经千方百计想把艾希礼从媚兰身边夺走，已是够罪过的了。现在，终生盲目信任她的媚兰又在临终前把同样的爱和信任寄托到她身上，这就更加深了她的罪孽。不，她不能说。她哪怕只再说一声：“努一把力活下去吧，"也是不行的。她必须让她平平静静地死去，没有挣扎，没有眼泪，也没有悔憾。
门稍稍开了，米德大夫站在门口急平地招呼她。思嘉朝床头俯下身去，强忍着眼泪，把媚兰的手拿起来轻轻贴在自己的在面颊上。
“晚安，"她说，那声音比她自己所担心的要更坚定些。
“答应我----"媚兰低声，声音显得更加柔和了。
“我什么都答应，亲爱的。”
“巴特勒船长----要好好待他。他----那样爱你。"“瑞德？"思嘉觉得有点迷惑，觉得这句话对她毫无意义。
“是的，是这样，"她机械地说，又轻轻吻了吻那只手，然后把它放在床单上。
“叫小姐太太立即进来吧，"思嘉跨出门槛时米德大夫低声说。
思嘉泪眼模糊地看见英迪亚和皮蒂跟着大夫走进房里，她们把裙子提得高高的，免得发出声响。门关上了，屋里一片寂静。艾希礼不知到哪里去了。思嘉将头靠在墙壁上，像个躲在角落里的顽皮的孩子，一面磨擦着疼痛的咽喉。
在关着的门里，媚兰快要去世了。连同她一起消失的还有多年以来思嘉在不知不觉依靠着的那个力量。为什么，哪，为什么她以前没有明白她是多么喜爱和多么需要媚兰呢？可是谁会想到这个又瘦又小又平凡的媚兰竟是一座坚强的高塔啊？媚兰，她在陌生人面前羞怯得要哭。她不敢大声说出自己的意见，她害怕老太太们的非难；媚兰，她连赶走一只鹅的勇气也没有呢！可是----思嘉思想起许多年前在塔拉时那个寂静而热的中午，那时一个穿蓝衣的北方佬的尸体侧躺在楼道底下，缕缕灰色的烟还在他头上缭绕，媚兰站在楼梯顶上，手里拿着查尔斯的军刀。思嘉记得那时候她曾想过：“多傻气！媚兰连那刀子也举不起来呢！"可是现在她懂了，如果必要，媚兰会奔下楼梯把那个北方佬杀掉----或者她自己被杀死。
是的，那天媚兰站在那里，小手里拿着一把利剑，准备为她而厮杀。而且现在，当她悲痛地回顾过去时，她发现原来媚兰经常手持利剑站在她身边，不声不响像她的影子似的爱护着她，并以盲目而热烈的忠诚为她战斗，与北方佬、战火、饥饿、贫困、舆论乃至自己亲爱的血亲思嘉明白那把宝剑，那把曾经寒光闪闪的保护她不受世人欺凌的宝剑，如今已永远插入鞘中，因此她的勇气和自信也慢慢消失了。
“媚兰是我一生中唯一的女友，"她绝望地想，"除了母亲以外，她是唯一真正爱我的女人。她也像母亲那样。凡是认识她的人都跟她亲近。"突然，她觉得那关着的门里躺着的好像就是她母亲，她是第二次在告别这个世界。突然她又站在塔拉，周围的人都在认论，而她感到十分孤独，她知道失去那个软弱，文雅而仁慈善良的人的非凡力量，她是无法面对生活的。
她站在穿堂里，又犹豫又害怕，起居室里的熊熊火光将一睦高大的阴影投射在她周围墙壁上。屋里静极了，这寂静像一阵凄冷的细雨渗透她的全身。艾希礼！艾希礼到哪里去了？
她跑到起居室去找他，好像一只挨冻的动物在寻找火似的，但是他不在那里。她一定要找到他。她发现了媚兰的力量和她自己对这个力量的依赖，只是一发现就丧失了，不过艾希礼还在呢。艾希礼，这个又强壮又聪明并且善于安慰人的人，他还在呢。艾希礼和他的爱能给人以力量，她可以用来弥补自己的软弱，他有胆量，可以用来驱除她的恐惧，他有安闲自在的态度，可以冲淡她的忧愁。
她想，"他一定在他自己房里，"于是踮着脚尖走过穿堂，轻轻敲他的门。里面没有声音，她便把门推开了。艾希礼站在梳妆台前面，对着一双媚兰修补过的手套出神。他先拿起一只，注视着它，仿佛以前从没见过似的。然后他把手套那么轻轻地放下，似乎它是玻璃的，随即把另一只拿起来。
她用颤抖的声音喊道：“艾希礼！"他慢慢地转过身来看着她。他那灰色的眼睛里已经没有那种朦胧的冷漠的神色，却睁得大大的，显得毫无遮掩。她从那里面看到的恐惧与她自己的不相上下，但显得更孤弱无助，还有一种深沉得她从没见过的惶惑与迷惘之感。她看到他的脸，原来在穿堂里浑身感到的那种恐怖反而加深了。她向他走去。
“我害怕，"她说。"唔，艾希礼，请扶住我，我害怕极了！"他一动不动，只注视着，双手紧紧地抓着那只手套。她将一只手放在他胳臂上，低声说：“那是什么？"他的眼睛仔细地打量着她，仿佛拼命要从她身上搜索出没有找到的东西似的。最后他开口说话，但声音好像不是他自己的了。
“我刚才正需要你，"他说。"我正要去寻找你----像个需要安慰的孩子一样----可是我找到的是个孩子，他比我更害怕，而且急着找我来了。"“你不会----你不可能害怕，"她喊道。"你从来没有害怕过。可是我----你一向是那么坚强----"“如果说我一向很坚强，那是因为有她在背后支持我，"他说，声音有点哑了，一面俯视手套。抚摩那上面的指头。"而且----而且----我本来所有的力量也会要跟他一起消失了。"他那低沉的声音中有那么一种痛感绝望的语调，使得她把搭在他臂上的那只手抽回来，同时倒退了两步。他们两个都不说话，这时她才觉得有生以来头一次真正了解他。
“怎么----"她慢吞吞地说，"怎么，艾希礼，你爱她，是不是？"他好像费了很大力气才说出话来。
“她是我曾经有过的唯一的梦想，唯一活着、呼吸着、在现实面前没有消失过的梦想。““全是梦想！"她心里暗忖着，以前那种容易恼怒的脾气又要发作了。“他念念不忘的就是梦，从来不谈实际！"她怀着沉重而略觉痛苦的心情说：“你一向就是这样一个傻瓜，艾希礼。你怎么看不出她比我要好上一百万倍呢？"“思嘉，求求你了！只要你知道我忍受了多少痛苦，自从大夫----"“忍受了多少痛苦！难道你不认为----唔，艾希礼，你许多年前就应当知道你爱的是她而不是我！你干吗不知道呢？要是知道了，一切就会完全不一样了，完全----唔，你早就应当明白，不要用你那些关于名誉和牺牲一类的话来敷衍我，让我一直迷恋你而不知悔改。你要是许多年前就告诉了我，我就会----尽管当时我会非常伤心，但我还是能挺得住的，可是你一直等到现在，等到媚兰快死的时候，才发现这个事实，可现在已经太晚了，什么办法也不能挽救了。唔，艾希礼，男人应该是懂得这种事的----但是女人并不懂啊！你本该早就看得清清楚楚，你始终在爱她，而我呢，你要我只不过像----像瑞德要沃特琳那个女人一样！"艾希礼听了她这几句话，不由得畏缩起来，但是他仍然直视着她，祈求她不要再说下去，给他一点安慰。他脸上的每一丝表情都承认她的话是真的是对的。连他那两个肩膀往下耷拉的模样也表现出了自责比思嘉所能给予的任何批评都要严厉。他默默地站在她面前，手里仍然抓着那只手套，仿佛抓着一只通晓人情的手似的，而思嘉在说了一大篇之后也沉默了，她的怒气已经平息，取代它的是一种略带轻视的怜悯。她的良心在责备她。她是在踢一个被打垮了的毫无防卫能力的人呢----而且她答应媚兰要照顾他啊！
“我刚刚答应过媚兰，但立即去对他说这些难听而伤心的话，而且无论是我或任何旁人都没有必要这样说他。他已经明白了，并且非常难过，"思嘉凄凉地思忖着。"他简直是个孩子，是个还没有长大的人。像我这样，并且正为失去她而十分痛苦，十分害怕。媚兰知道事情会这样的----媚兰对他的了解比我深得多，所以她才同时要求我照顾和他小博呢。艾希礼怎么经受得了啊？我倒是经得祝我什么都经得祝我还得经受许多许多呢。可是他不行----他没有她就什么都经受不住了。““饶恕我吧，亲爱的，"她亲切地说，一面伸出她的两臂。
“我明白你得忍受多大的痛苦。但是请记住，她什么也不知道----她甚至从来不曾起过疑心----上帝对我们真好埃"他迅速走过来，张开两臂盲目地把她抱祝她踮起脚尖将自己暖的面颊温存贴在他脸上，同时用一只手抚摩他后脑上的头发。
“别哭了，亲爱的。她希望你勇敢些。她希望马上能看到你，你得坚强一点才好。决不要让她看出你刚刚哭过。那会使她难过的。"他紧紧抱住她，使她呼吸都困难了，同时他哽咽着在她耳边絮语。
“我怎么办啊？没有她我可活不成了！”
“我也活不成呢，"她心里想，这时她仿佛看见了后半生没有媚兰的情景，便打了一个寒噤闪开了。但是她牢牢地克制住自己。艾希礼依靠她，媚兰也依靠她。记得过去有一次，在塔拉月光下，她喝醉了，已十分疲惫，那时她想过：“担子是要由肩强膀壮的人去挑的。“她吧，她的肩膀的强壮的，而艾希礼的却不是。她挺起胸膛，准备挑这副重担，同时以一种自己也没感觉的镇静吻了吻艾希礼泪湿的脸颊，这次的吻已经不带一丝狂热，也不带渴望和激情了，而只有凉凉的温柔罢了。
“我们总会有办法的，"她说。
媚兰的房门猛地打开了，米德大夫急切地喊道：“艾希礼！快！"“我的上帝！她完了！"思嘉心想：“可艾希礼没来得及跟她告别啊！不过也许----"“快！"她高声喊道，一面推了他一把，因为他依旧呆呆地站着不动。"快！"她拉开门，把他推出门去。艾希礼被她的话猛然惊醒，急忙跑进穿堂，手里还紧抓着那只手套。她听见他急促地脚步一路响去，接着是隐约的关门声。
她又喊了一声"我的上帝！"一面慢慢向床边走去，坐在床上，然后低下头来，用两只手捧住头。她突然感到特别疲倦，好像有生以来还从没过这样疲倦。原来当她听到那隐约的关门声时，她那浑身的紧张状态，那给了她力量一直在奋斗的紧张状态，便突然松懈下来。她觉得自己已筋疲力尽，感情枯竭，已没有悲伤和悔恨，没有恐惧和惊异了。她疲倦，她的心在迟钝地机械的跳动，就像壁炉架上那座时钟似的。
从那感觉迟钝近乎麻木的状态中，有一个思想慢慢明晰起来。艾希礼并不爱她，并且从没有真心爱过她，但认识到这一点她并不感到痛苦。这本来应该是很痛苦的。她本该感到凄凉，伤心，发出绝望的喊叫。因为她期依靠着他的爱在生活。它支持着她闯过了那么多艰难险阻。不过，事实毕竟是事实。他不爱她，而她也并不乎。她不在乎，因为她已经不爱他了。她不爱他，所以无论他做什么说什么，都不会使她伤心了。
她在床上躺下来，脑袋疲惫地搁在枕头上。要设法排除这个念头是没有用的；要对自己说：“可是我的确爱他。我爱了他多少年。爱情不能在顷刻之间变得冷谈，“那也是没有用的。
但是它能变，而且已经变了。
“除了在我的想像中外，他从来就没有真正存在过，"她厌倦地想。"我爱的是某个我自己虚构的东西，那个东西就像媚兰一样死了。我缝制了一套美的衣服，并且爱上了它。后来艾希礼骑着马跑来，他显得那么漂亮，那么与众不同，我便把那套衣服给他穿上，也不管他穿了是否合适。我不想看清楚他究竟怎么样。我一直爱着那套美丽的衣服----而根本不是爱他这个人。"现在她可追忆到许多年前，看见她自己穿一件绿底白花细布衣裳站在塔拉的阳光下，被那位骑在马上的金光闪闪的青年吸引住了。如今她已经清楚地看出，他只不过是她自己的一个幼稚幻影，并不比她从杰拉尔德手里哄到的那副海蓝宝石耳坠更为重要。那副耳坠她也曾热烈地向往过，可是一旦得到，它们就没什么值得可贵的了，就像除了金钱以外的任何东西那样，一到她手里就失掉了价值。艾希礼也是这样，假使她在那些遥远的日子最初就拒绝跟他结婚而满足了自己的虚荣心，他也早就不会有什么价值了。假如她曾经支配过他，看见过他也像别的男孩子那样从热烈、焦急发展到嫉妒、愠怒、乞求，那么，当她遇到一个新的男人时，她那一度狂热的迷恋也就会消失，就好比一片迷雾在太阳出现和轻风吹来时很快飘散一样。
“我以前多么傻啊！"她懊恼地想。"如今就得付出很大代价了。我以前经常盼望的事现在已经发生。我盼望过媚兰早死，让我能有机会得到他。现在媚兰真得死了，我可以得到他了，可是我却不想要他了。他那死要面子的性格，一定会要弄清楚我愿不愿意跟瑞德离婚，跟他结婚的。跟他结婚！哪怕把他放在银盘子里送来，我也不会要呢！不过还得一样，下半辈子我得把这个负担挑到底了。只要我还活着，我就得照顾他，不让他饿肚子，也不让任何人伤了他的感情。他会像我的另一个孩子似的，整天牵着我的裙子转。我虽失掉了爱侣，却新添了个孩子。而且，要不是我答应了媚兰，我就----即使今后再也看不见他，我也无所谓了。”
