never completely recovered from the heart attack she had the day she led the others in beating out the flames and saving the house。 Old Dr。 Fontaine was convalescing slowly from an amputated arm。 Alex and Tony were turning awkward hands to plows and hoe handles。 They leaned over the fence rail to shake hands with Scarlett when she called and they laughed at her rickety wagon； their black eyes bitter； for they were laughing at themselves as well as her。 She asked to buy seed corn from them and they promised it and fell to discussing farm problems。 They had twelve chickens； two cows； five hogs and the mule they brought home from the war。 One of the hogs had just died and they were worried about losing the others。 At bearing such serious words about hogs from these ex…dandies who had never given life a more serious thought than which cravat was most fashionable； Scarlett laughed and this time her laugh was bitter too。
They had all made her welcome at Mimosa and had insisted on giving； not selling； her the seed corn。 The quick Fontaine tempers flared when she put a greenback on the table and they flatly refused payment。 Scarlett took the corn and privately slipped a dollar bill into Sally’s hand。 Sally looked like a different person from the girl who had greeted her eight months before when Scarlett first came home to Tara。 Then she had been pale and sad but there had been a buoyancy about her。 Now that buoyancy had gone； as if the surrender had taken all hope from her。
“Scarlett；” she whispered as she clutched the bill； “what was the good of it all？ Why did we ever fight？ Oh； my poor Joe！ Oh； my poor baby！”
“I don’t know why we fought and I don’t care；” said Scarlett； “And I’m not interested。 I never was interested。 War is a man’s business； not a woman’s。 All I’m interested in now is a good cotton crop。 Now take this dollar and buy little Joe a dress。 God knows； he needs it。 I’m not going to rob you of your corn； for all Alex and Tony’s politeness。”
The boys followed her to the wagon and assisted her in； courtly for all their rags； gay with the volatile Fontaine gaiety； but with the picture of their destitution in her eyes； she shivered as she drove away from Mimosa。 She was so tired of poverty and pinching。 What a pleasure it would be to know people who were rich and not worried as to where the next meal was coming from！
Cade Calvert was at home at Pine Bloom and； as Scarlett came up the steps of the old house in which she had danced so often in happier days； she saw that death was in his face。 He was emaciated and he coughed as he lay in an easy chair in the sunshine with a shawl across his knees； but his face lit up when he saw her。 Just a little cold which had settled in his chest； he said； trying to rise to greet her。 Got it from sleeping so much in the rain。 But it would be gone soon and then he’d lend a hand in the work。
Cathleen Calvert； who came out of the house at the sound of voices； met Scarlett’s eyes above her brother’s head and in them Scarlett read knowledge and bitter despair。 Cade might not know but Cathleen knew。 Pine Bloom looked straggly and overgrown with weeds； seedling pines were beginning to show in the fields and the house was sagging and untidy。 Cathleen was thin and taut。
The two of them； with their Yankee stepmother； their four little half…sisters； and Hilton； the Yankee overseer； remained in the silent； oddly echoing house。 Scarlett had never liked Hilton any more than she liked their own overseer Jonas Wilkerson； and she liked him even less now； as he sauntered forward and greeted her like an equal。 Formerly he had the same combination of servility and impertinence which Wilkerson possessed but now； with Mr。 Calvert and Raiford dead in the war and Cade sick； he had dropped all servility。 The second Mrs。 Calvert had never known how to compel respect from negro servants and it was not to be expected that she could get it from a white man。
“Mr。 Hilton has been so kind about staying with us through these difficult times；” said Mrs。 Calvert nervously； casting quick glances at her silent stepdaughter。 “Very kind。 I suppose you heard how he saved our house twice when Sherman was here。 I’m sure I don’t know how we would have managed without him； with no money and Cade—”
A flush went over Cade’s white face and Cathleen’s long lashes veiled her eyes as her mouth hardened。 Scarlett knew their souls were writhing in helpless rage at being under obligations to their Yankee overseer。 Mrs。 Calvert seemed ready to weep。 She had somehow made a blunder。 She was always blundering。 She just couldn’t understand Southerners； for all that she had lived in Georgia twenty years。 She never knew what not to say to her stepchildren and； no matter what she said or did； they were always so exquisitely polite to her。 Silently she vowed she would go North to her own people； taking her children with her； and leave these puzzling stiff…necked strangers。
After these visits； Scarlett had no desire to see the Tarletons。 Now that the four boys were gone； the house burned and the family cramped in the overseer’s cottage； she could not bring herself to go。 But Suellen and Carreen begged and Melanie said it would be unneighborly not to call and welcome Mr。 Tarleton back from the war； so one Sunday they went。
This was the worst of all。
As they drove up by the ruins of the house； they saw Beatrice Tarleton dressed in a worn riding habit； a crop under her arm； sitting on the top rail of the fence about the paddock； staring moodily at nothing。 Beside her perched the bow…legged little negro who had trained her horses and he looked as glum as his mistress。 The paddock； once full of frolicking colts and placid brood mares； was empty now except for one mule； the mule Mr。 Tarleton had ridden home from the surrender。
“I swear I don’t know what to do with myself now that my darlings are gone；” said Mrs。 Tarleton； climbing down from the fence。 A stranger might have thought she spoke of her four dead sons； but the girls from Tara knew her horses were in her mind。 “All my beautiful horses dead。 And oh； my poor Nellie！ If I just had Nellie！ And nothing but a damned mule on the place。 A damned mule；” she repeated； looking indignantly at the scrawny beast。 “It’s an insult to the memory of my blooded darlings to have a mule in their paddock。 Mules are misbegotten； unnatural critters and it ought to be illegal to breed them。”
Jim Tarleton； completely disguised by a bushy beard； came out of the overseer’s house to welcome and kiss the girls and his four red…haired daughters in mended dresses streamed out behind him； tripping over the dozen black and tan hounds which ran barking to the door at the sound of strange voices。 There was an air of studied and determined cheerfulness about the whole family which brought a colder chill to Scarlett’s bones than the bitterness of Mimosa or the deathly brooding of Pine Bloom。
The Tarletons insisted that the girls stay for dinner； saying they had so few guests these days and wanted to hear all the news。 Scarlett did not want to linger； for the atmosphere oppressed her； but Melanie and her two sisters were anxious for a longer visit； so the four stayed for dinner and ate sparingly of the side meat and dried peas which were served them。
There was laughter about the skimpy fare and the Tarleton girls giggled as they told of makeshifts for clothes； as if they were telling the most amusing of jokes。 Melanie met them halfway； surprising Scarlett with her unexpected vivacity as she told of trials at Tara； making light of hardships。 Scarlett could hardly speak at all。 The room seemed so empty without the four great Tarleton boys； lounging and smoking and teasing。 And if it seemed empty to her； what must it seem to the Tarletons who were offering a smiling front to their neighbors？
Carreen had said little during the meal but when it was over she slipped over to Mrs。 Tarleton’s side and whispered something。 Mrs。 Tarleton’s face changed and the brittle smile left her lips as she put her arm around Carreen’s slender waist。 They left the room； and Scarlett； who felt she could not endure the house another minute； followed them。 They went down the path through the garden and Scarlett saw they were going toward the burying ground。 Well； she couldn’t go back to the house now。 It would seem too rude。 But what on earth did Carreen mean dragging Mrs。 Tarleton out to the boys’ graves when Beatrice was trying so hard to be brave？
There were two new marble markers in the brick…enclosed lot under the funereal cedars—so new that no rain had splashed them with red dust。
“We got them last week；” said Mrs。 Tarleton proudly。 “Mr。 Tarleton went to Macon and brought them home in the wagon。”
Tombstones！ And what they must have cost！ Suddenly Scarlett did not feel as sorry for the Tarletons as she had at first。 Anybody who would waste precious money on tombstones when food was so dear； so almost unattainable； didn’t deserve sympathy。 And there were several lines carved on each of the stones。 The more carving； the more money。 The whole family must be crazy！ And it had cost money； too； to bring the three boys’ bodies home。 They had never found Boyd or any trace of him。
Between the graves of Brent and Stuart was a stone which read： “They were lovely and pleasant in their lives； and in their death they were not divided。”
On the other stone were the names of Boyd and Tom with something in Latin which began “Dulce et—” but it meant nothing to Scarlett who had managed to evade Latin at the Fayetteville Academy。
All that money for tombstones！ Why； they were fools！ She felt as indignant as if her own money had been squandered。
Carreen’s eyes were shining oddly。
“I think it’s lovely；” she whispered pointing to the first stone。
Carreen would think it lovely。 Anything sentimental stirred her。
“Yes；” said Mrs。 Tarleton and her voice was soft； “we thought it very fitting—they died almost at the same time。 Stuart first and then Brent who caught up the flag he dropped。”
As the girls drove back to Tara； Scarlett was silent for a while； thinking of what she had seen in the various homes； remembering against her will the County in its glory