ted admonition against leaning on elbows and making them ugly and wrinkled。 What did it matter if they did get ugly？ She’d probably never get a chance to show them again。 She looked hungrily at the frocks floating by； butter…yellow watered silks with garlands of rosebuds； pink satins with eighteen flounces edged with tiny black velvet ribbons； baby blue taffeta； ten yards in the skirt and foamy with cascading lace； exposed bosoms； seductive flowers。 Maybelle Merriwether went toward the next booth on the arm of the Zouave； in an apple…green tarlatan so wide that it reduced her waist to nothingness。 It Was showered and flounced with cream…colored Chantilly lace that had come from Charleston on the last blockader； and Maybelle was flaunting it as saucily as if she and not the famous Captain Butler had run the blockade。
“How sweet I’d look in that dress；” thought Scarlett； a savage envy in her heart。 “Her waist is as big as a cow’s。 That green is just my color and it would make my eyes look— Why will blondes try to wear that color？ Her skin looks as green as an old cheese。 And to think I’ll never wear that color again； not even when I do get out of mourning。 No； not even if I do manage to get married again。 Then I’ll have to wear tacky old grays and tans and lilacs。”
For a brief moment she considered the unfairness of it all。 How short was the time for fun； for pretty clothes； for dancing； for coquetting！ Only a few； too few years！ Then you married and wore dull…colored dresses and had babies that ruined your waist line and sat in corners at dances with other sober matrons and only emerged to dance with your husband or with old gentlemen who stepped on your feet。 If you didn’t do these things； the other matrons talked about you and then your reputation was ruined and your family disgraced。 It seemed such a terrible waste to spend all your little girlhood learning how to be attractive and how to catch men and then only use the knowledge for a year or two。 When she considered her training at the hands of Ellen and Mammy； she knew it had been thorough and good because it had always reaped results。 There were set rules to be followed； and if you followed them success crowned your efforts。
With old ladies you were sweet and guileless and appeared as simple minded as possible； for old ladies were sharp and they watched girls as jealously as cats； ready to pounce on any indiscretion of tongue or eye。 With old gentlemen； a girl was pert and saucy and almost； but not quite； flirtatious； so that the old fools’ vanities would be tickled。 It made them feel devilish and young and they pinched your cheek and declared you Were a minx。 And； of course； you always blushed on such occasions； otherwise they would pinch you with more pleasure than was proper and then tell their sons that you were fast。
With young girls and young married women； you slopped over with sugar and kissed them every time you met them； even if it was ten times a day。 And you put your arms about their waists and suffered them to do the same to you； no matter how much you disliked it You admired their frocks or their babies indiscriminately and teased about beaux and complimented husbands and giggled modestly and denied that you had any charms at all compared with theirs。 And； above all； you never said what you really thought about anything； any more than they said what they really thought。
Other women’s husbands you let severely alone； even if they were your own discarded beaux； and no matter how temptingly attractive they were。 If you were too nice to young husbands； their wives said you were fast and you got a bad reputation and never caught any beaux of your own。
But with young bachelors—ah； that was a different matter！ You could laugh softly at them and when they came flying to see why you laughed； you could refuse to tell them and laugh harder and keep them around indefinitely trying to find out。 You could promise； with your eyes； any number of exciting things that would make a man maneuver to get you alone。 And； having gotten you alone； you could be very； very hurt or very； very angry when he tried to kiss you。 You could make him apologize for being a cur and forgive him so sweetly that he would hang around trying to kiss you a second time。 Sometimes； but not often； you did let him kiss you。 （Ellen and Mammy had not taught her that but she learned it was effective。） Then you cried and declared you didn’t know what had come over you and that he couldn’t ever respect you again。 Then he had to dry your eyes and usually he proposed； to show just how much he did respect you。 And then there were— Oh； there were so many things to do to bachelors and she knew them all； the nuance of the sidelong glance； the half…smile behind the fan； the swaying of the hips so that skirts swung like a bell； the tears； the laughter； the flattery； the sweet sympathy。 Oh； all the tricks that never failed to work—except with Ashley。
No； it didn’t seem right to learn all these smart tricks； use them so briefly and then put them away forever。 How wonderful it would be never to marry but to go on being lovely in pale green dresses and forever courted by handsome men。 But； if you went on too long； you got to be an old maid like India Wilkes and everyone said “poor thing” in that smug hateful way。 No； after all it was better to marry and keep your self…respect even if you never had any more fun。
Oh； what a mess life was！ Why had she been such an idiot as to marry Charles of all people and have her life end at sixteen？
Her indignant and hopeless reverie was broken when the crowd began pushing back against the walls； the ladies carefully holding their hoops so that no careless contact should turn them up against their bodies and show more pantalets than was proper。 Scarlett tiptoed above the crowd and saw the captain of the militia mounting the orchestra platform。 He shouted orders and half of the Company fell into line。 For a few minutes they went through a brisk drill that brought perspiration to their foreheads and cheers and applause from the audience。 Scarlett clapped her hands dutifully with the rest and； as the soldiers pushed forward toward the punch and lemonade booths after they were dismissed； she turned to Melanie； feeling that she had better begin her deception about the Cause as soon as possible。
“They looked fine； didn’t they？” she said。
Melanie was fussing about with the knitted things on the counter。
“Most of them would look a lot finer in gray uniforms and in Virginia；” she said； and she did not trouble to lower her voice。
Several of the proud mothers of members of the militia were standing close by and overheard the remark。 Mrs。 Guinan turned scarlet and then white； for her twenty…five…year…old Willie was in the company。
Scarlett was aghast at such words coming from Melly of all people。
“Why； Melly！”
“You know it’s true； Scarlet。 I don’t mean the little boys and the old gentlemen。 But a lot of the militia are perfectly able to tote a rifle and that’s what they ought to be doing this minute。”
“But—but—” began Scarlett； who had never considered the matter before。 “Somebody’s got to stay home to—” What was it Willie Guinan had told her by way of excusing his presence in Atlanta？ “Somebody’s got to stay home to protect the state from invasion。”
“Nobody’s invading us and nobody’s going to；” said Melly coolly； looking toward a group of the militia。 “And the best way to keep out invaders is to go to Virginia and beat the Yankees there。 And as for all this talk about the militia staying here to keep the darkies from rising—why； it’s the silliest thing I ever heard of。 Why should our people rise？ It’s just a good excuse for cowards。 I’ll bet we could lick the Yankees in a month if all the militia of all the states went to Virginia。 So there！”
“Why； Melly！” cried Scarlett again； staring。
Melly’s soft dark eyes were flashing angrily。 “My husband wasn’t afraid to go and neither was yours。 And I’d rather they’d both be dead than here at home— Oh； darling； I’m sorry。 How thoughtless and cruel of me！”
She stroked Scarlett’s arm appealingly and Scarlett stared at her。 But it was not of dead Charles she was thinking。 It was of Ashley。 Suppose he too were to die？ She turned quickly and smiled automatically as Dr。 Meade walked up to their booth。
“Well； girls；” he greeted them； “it was nice of you to come。 I know what a sacrifice it must have been for you to come out tonight。 But it’s all for the Cause。 And I’m going to tell you a secret。 I’ve a surprise way for making some more money tonight for the hospital； but I’m afraid some of the ladies are going to be shocked about it。”
He stopped and chuckled as he tugged at his gray goatee。
“Oh； what？ Do tell！”
“On second thought I believe I’ll keep you guessing； too。 But you girls must stand up for me if the church members want to run me out of town for doing it。 However； it’s for the hospital You’ll see。 Nothing like this has ever been done before。”
He went off pompously toward a group of chaperons in one corner； and just as the two girls had turned to each other to discuss the possibilities of the secret； two old gentlemen bore down on the booth； declaring in loud voices that they wanted ten miles of tatting。 Well； after all； old gentlemen were better than no gentlemen at all； thought Scarlett； measuring out the tatting and submitting demurely to being chucked under the chin。 The old blades charged off toward the lemonade booth and others took their places at the counter。 Their booth did not have so many customers as did the other booths where the tootling laugh of Maybelle Merriwether sounded and Fanny Elsing’s giggles and the Whiting girls’ repartee made merriment。 Melly sold useless stuff to men who could have no possible use for it as quietly and serenely as a shopkeeper； and Scarlett patterned her conduct on Melly’s。
There were crowds in front of every other counter but theirs； girls chattering； men buying。 The few who came to them talked about how they went to the university with Ashley and what a fine soldier he was or spoke in respectful tones of Charles and how great a loss to Atlanta his death had been。
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