If she were only home, Yankees or no Yankees.
Home, even if Ellen was sick.
She longed for the sight of Ellen’s sweet face, for Mammy’s strong arms around her.
She rose dizzily to her feet and started walking again.
When she came in sight of the house, she saw Wade swinging on the front gate.
When he saw her, his face puckered and he began to cry, holding up a grubby bruised finger.
“Hurt!” he sobbed.
“Hurt!”
“Hush!
Hush! Hush!
Or I’ll spank you.
Go out in the back yard and make mud pies and don’t move from there.”
“Wade hungwy,” he sobbed and put the hurt finger in his mouth.
“I don’t care.
Go in the back yard and—” She looked up and saw Prissy leaning out of the upstairs window, fright and worry written on her face; but in an instant they were wiped away in relief as she saw her mistress.
Scarlett beckoned to her to come down and went into the house.
How cool it was in the hall.
She untied her bonnet and flung it on the table, drawing her forearms across her wet forehead.
She heard the upstairs door open and a low wailing moan, wrenched from the depths of agony, came to her ears. Prissy came down the stairs three at a time.
“Is de doctah come?”
“No.
He can’t come.”
“Gawd, Miss Scarlett!
Miss Melly bad off!”
“The doctor can’t come.
Nobody can come.
You’ve got to bring the baby and I’ll help you.”
Prissy’s mouth fell open and her tongue wagged wordlessly.
She looked at Scarlett sideways and scuffed her feet and twisted her thin body.
“Don’t look so simple minded!” cried Scarlett, infuriated at her silly expression.
“What’s the matter?”
Prissy edged back up the stairs.
“Fo’ Gawd, Miss Scarlett—” Fright and shame were in her rolling eyes.
“Well?”
“Fo’ Gawd, Miss Scarlett!
We’s got ter have a doctah.
Ah—Ah-Miss Scarlett, Ah doan know nuthin’ ’bout bringin’ babies.
Maw wouldn’ nebber lemme be ‘round folkses whut wuz havin’ dem.”
All the breath went out of Scarlett’s lungs in one gasp of horror before rage swept her.
Prissy made a lunge past her, bent on flight, but Scarlett grabbed her.
“You black liar—what do you mean?
You’ve been saying you knew everything about birthing babies.
What is the truth?
Tell me!”
She shook her until the kinky head rocked drunkenly.
“Ah’s lyin', Miss Scarlett!
Ah doan know huccome Ah tell sech a lie.
Ah jes’ see one baby birthed, an’ Maw she lak ter wo’ me out fer watchin'.”
Scarlett glared at her and Prissy shrank back, trying to pull loose.
For a moment her mind refused to accept the truth, but when realization finally came to her that Prissy knew no more about midwifery than she did, anger went over her like a flame.