What you think of her in your own petty minds, I do not care, for that is your business.
But what you say about her in my own house or in my own hearing, ever, is my business.
But how can you even think such dreadful things, much less say them?
Are your men so cheap to you that you would rather see them dead than alive?
Have you no gratitude to the man who saved them and saved them at risk of his own life?
The Yankees might easily have thought him a member of the Klan if the whole truth had come out!
They might have hanged him.
But he risked himself for your men.
For your father-in-law, Mrs. Merriwether, and your son-in-law and your two nephews, too.
And your brother, Mrs. Bonnell, and your son and son-in-law, Mrs. Elsing.
Ingrates, that's what you are!
I ask an apology from all of you."
Mrs. Elsing was on her feet cramming her sewing into her box, her mouth set.
"If anyone had ever told me that you could be so ill bred, Melly-- No, I will not apologize.
India is right.
Scarlett is a flighty, fast bit of baggage.
I can't forget how she acted during the war.
And I can't forget how poor white trashy she's acted since she got a little money--"
"What you can't forget," cut in Melanie, clenching her small fists against her sides, "is that she demoted Hugh because he wasn't smart enough to run her mill."
"Melly!" moaned a chorus of voices.
Mrs. Elsing's head jerked up and she started toward the door.
With her hand on the knob of the front door, she stopped and turned.
"Melly," she said and her voice softened, "honey, this breaks my heart.
I was your mother's best friend and I helped Dr. Meade bring you into this world and I've loved you like you were mine.
If it were something that mattered it wouldn't be so hard to hear you talk like this.
But about a woman like Scarlett O'Hara who'd just as soon do you a dirty turn as the next of us--"
Tears had started in Melanie's eyes at the first words Mrs. Elsing spoke, but her face hardened when the old lady had finished.
"I want it understood," she said, "that any of you who do not call on Scarlett need never, never call on me."
There was a loud murmur of voices, confusion as the ladies got to their feet.
Mrs. Elsing dropped her sewing box on the floor and came back into the room, her false fringe jerking awry.
"I won't have it!" she cried.
"I won't have it!
You are beside yourself, Melly, and I don't hold you responsible.
You shall be my friend and I shall be yours.
I refuse to let this come between us."
She was crying and somehow, Melanie was in her arms, crying too, but declaring between sobs that she meant every word she said.
Several of the other ladies burst into tears and Mrs. Merriwether, trumpeting loudly into her handkerchief, embraced both Mrs. Elsing and Melanie.
Aunt Pitty, who had been a petrified witness to the whole scene, suddenly slid to the floor in what was one of the few real fainting spells she had ever had.
Amid the tears and confusion and kissing and scurrying for smelling salts and brandy, there was only one calm face, one dry pair of eyes.
India Wilkes took her departure unnoticed by anyone.
Grandpa Merriwether, meeting Uncle Henry Hamilton in the Girl of the Period Saloon several hours later, related the happenings of the morning which he had heard from Mrs. Merriweather.
He told it was relish for he was delighted that someone had the courage to face down his redoubtable daughter-in-law.
Certainly, he had never had such courage.
"Well, what did the pack of silly fools finally decide to do?" asked Uncle Henry irritably.
"I dunno for sure," said Grandpa, "but it looks to me like Melly won hands down on this go-round.
I'll bet they'll all call, at least once.
Folks set a store by that niece of yours, Henry."
"Melly's a fool and the ladies are right.
Scarlett is a slick piece of baggage and I don't see why Charlie ever married her," said Uncle Henry gloomily.
"But Melly was right too, in a way.