"Come off your high horse, Miss," said the old lady tartly.
"I shan't attack your precious sister, though I might have if I'd stayed at the burying ground.
What I mean is with the scarcity of men in the neighborhood, Will could marry most any of the girls.
There's Beetrice's four wild cats and the Munroe girls and the McRae--"
"He's going to marry Sue and that's that."
"She's lucky to get him."
"Tara is lucky to get him."
"You love this place, don't you?"
"Yes."
"So much that you don't mind your sister marrying out of her class as long as you have a man around to care for Tara?"
"Class?" said Scarlett, startled at the idea.
"Class?
What does class matter now, so long as a girl gets a husband who can take care of her?"
"That's a debatable question," said Old Miss.
"Some folks would say you were talking common sense.
Others would say you were letting down bars that ought never be lowered one inch.
Will's certainly not quality folks and some of your people were."
Her sharp old eyes went to the portrait of Grandma Robillard.
Scarlett thought of Will, lank, unimpressive, mild, eternally chewing a straw, his whole appearance deceptively devoid of energy, like that of most Crackers.
He did not have behind him a long line of ancestors of wealth, prominence and blood.
The first of Will's family to set foot on Georgia soil might even have been one of Oglethorpe's debtors or a bond servant.
Will had not been to college. In fact, four years in a backwoods school was all the education he had ever had.
He was honest and he was loyal, he was patient and he was hard working, but certainly he was not quality.
Undoubtedly by Robillard standards, Suellen was coming down in the world.
"So you approve of Will coming into your family?"
"Yes," answered Scarlett fiercely, ready to pounce upon the old lady at the first words of condemnation.
"You may kiss me," said Grandma surprisingly, and she smiled in her most approving manner.
"I never liked you much till now, Scarlett.
You were always hard as a hickory nut, even as a child, and I don't like hard females, barring myself.
But I do like the way you meet things.
You don't make a fuss about things that can't be helped, even if they are disagreeable.
You take your fences cleanly like a good hunter."
Scarlett smiled uncertainly and pecked obediently at the withered cheek presented to her.
It was pleasant to hear approving words again, even if she had little idea what they meant.
"There's plenty of folks hereabouts who'll have something to say about you letting Sue marry a Cracker--for all that everybody likes Will.
They'll say in one breath what a fine man he is and how terrible it is for an O'Hara girl to marry beneath her.
But don't you let it bother you."
"I've never bothered about what people said."
"So I've heard."
There was a hint of acid in the old voice.
"Well, don't bother about what folks say.
It'll probably be a very successful marriage.
Of course, Will's always going to look like a Cracker and marriage won't improve his grammar any.
And, even if he makes a mint of money, he'll never lend any shine and sparkle to Tara, like your father did.
Crackers are short on sparkle.
But Will's a gentleman at heart.
He's got the right instincts.
Nobody but a born gentleman could have put his finger on what is wrong with us as accurately as he just did, down there at the burying.
The whole world can't lick us but we can lick ourselves by longing too hard for things we haven't got any more--and by remembering too much.
Yes, Will will do well by Suellen and by Tara."