People who had never liked him came to smile as he went by with the small figure perched before him on his saddle. Women who had heretofore believed that no woman was safe with him, began to stop and talk with him on the streets, to admire Bonnie. Even the strictest old ladies felt that a man who could discuss the ailments and problems of childhood as well as he did could not be altogether bad.
CHAPTER LIII
IT WAS Ashley’s birthday and Melanie was giving him a surprise reception that night. Everyone knew about the reception, except Ashley. Even Wade and little Beau knew and were sworn to secrecy that puffed them up with pride. Everyone in Atlanta who was nice had been invited and was coming. General Gordon and his family had graciously accepted, Alexander Stephens would be present if his ever-uncertain health permitted and even Bob Toombs, the stormy petrel of the Confederacy, was expected.
All that morning, Scarlett, with Melanie, India and Aunt Pitty flew about the little house, directing the negroes as they hung freshly laundered curtains, polished silver, waxed the floor and cooked, stirred and tasted the refreshments. Scarlett had never seen Melanie so excited or so happy.
“You see, dear, Ashley hasn’t had a birthday party since—since, you remember the barbecue at Twelve Oaks? The day we heard about Mr. Lincoln’s call for volunteers? Well, he hasn’t had a birthday party since then. And he works so hard and he’s so tired when he gets home at night that he really hasn’t thought about today being his birthday. And won’t he be surprised after supper when everybody troops in!”
“How you goin’ to manage them lanterns on the lawn without Mr. Wilkes seein’ them when he comes home to supper?” demanded Archie grumpily.
He had sat all morning watching the preparations, interested but unwilling to admit it. He had never been behind the scenes at a large town folks’ party and it was a new experience. He made frank remarks about women running around like the house was afire, just because they were having company, but wild horses could not have dragged him from the scene. The colored-paper lanterns which Mrs. Elsing and Fanny had made and painted for the occasion held a special interest for him, as he had never seen “sech contraptions” before. They had been hidden in his room in the cellar and he had examined them minutely.
“Mercy! I hadn’t thought of that!” cried Melanie. “Archie, how fortunate that you mentioned it. Dear, dear! What shall I do? They’ve got to be strung on the bushes and trees and little candles put in them and lighted just at the proper time when the guests are arriving. Scarlett, can you send Pork down to do it while we’re eating supper?”
“Miz Wilkes, you got more sense than most women but you gits flurried right easy,” said Archie. “And as for that fool nigger, Pork, he ain’t got no bizness with them thar contraptions. He’d set them afire in no time. They are—right pretty,” he conceded. “I’ll hang them for you, whilst you and Mr. Wilkes are eatin’.”
“Oh, Archie, how kind of you!” Melanie turned childlike eyes of gratitude and dependence upon him. “I don’t know what I should do without you. Do you suppose you could go put the candles in them now, so we’d have that much out of the way?”
“Well, I could, p’raps,” said Archie ungraciously and stumped off toward the cellar stairs.
“There’s more ways of killing a cat than choking him to death with butter,” giggled Melanie when the whiskered old man had thumped down the stairs. “I had intended all along for Archie to put up those lanterns but you know how he is. He won’t do a thing if you ask him to. And now we’ve got him out from underfoot for a while. The darkies are so scared of him they just won’t do any work when he’s around, breathing down their necks.”
“Melly, I wouldn’t have that old desperado in my house,” said Scarlett crossly. She hated Archie as much as he hated her and they barely spoke. Melanie’s was the only house in which he would remain if she were present. And even in Melanie’s house, he stared at her with suspicion and cold contempt. “He’ll cause you trouble, mark my words.”
“Oh, he’s harmless if you flatter him and act like you depend on him,” said Melanie. “And he’s so devoted to Ashley and Beau that I always feel safe having him around.”
“You mean he’s so devoted to you, Melly,” said India, her cold face relaxing into a faintly warm smile as her gaze rested fondly on her sister-in-law. “I believe you’re the first person that old ruffian has loved since his wife—er—since his wife. I think he’d really like for somebody to insult you, so he could kill them to show his respect for you.”
“Mercy! How you run on, India!” said Melanie blushing. “He thinks I’m a terrible goose and you know it.”
“Well, I don’t see that what that smelly old hillbilly thinks is of any importance,” said Scarlett abruptly. The very thought of how Archie had sat in judgment upon her about the convicts always enraged her. “I have to go now. I’ve got to go get dinner and then go by the store and pay off the clerks and go by the lumber yard and pay the drivers and Hugh Elsing.”
“Oh, are you going to the lumber yard?” asked Melanie. “Ashley is coming in to the yard in the late afternoon to see Hugh. Can you possibly hold him there till five o’clock? If he comes home earlier he’ll be sure to catch us finishing up a cake or something and then he won’t be surprised at all.”
Scarlett smiled inwardly, good temper restored.
“Yes, I’ll hold him,” she said.
As she spoke, India’s pale lashless eyes met hers piercingly. She always looks at me so oddly when I speak of Ashley, thought Scarlett.
“Well, hold him there as long as you can after five o’clock,” said Melanie. “And then India will drive down and pick him up. ... Scarlett, do come early tonight. I don’t want you to miss a minute of the reception.”
As Scarlett rode home she thought sullenly: “She doesn’t want me to miss a minute of the reception, eh? Well then, why didn’t she invite me to receive with her and India and Aunt Pitty?”
