Evidently, she was not the only one to whom this idea occurred, for several of the boys were beginning to stick out their chins. John Wilkes casually but swiftly came back to his place beside the speaker, as if to impress on all present that this man was his guest and that, moreover, there were ladies present.
“The trouble with most of us Southerners,”continued Rhett Butler,“is that we either don't travel enough or we don't profit enough by our travels. Now, of course, all you gentlemen are well traveled.But what have you seen?Europe and New York and Philadelphia and, of course, the ladies have been to Saratoga”(he bowed slightly to the group under the arbor),“You've seen the hotels and the museums and the balls and the gambling houses.And you've come home believing that there's no place like the South.As for me, I wasCharleston born, but I have spent the last few years in the North.”His white teeth showed in a grin, as though he realized that everyone present knew just why he no longer lived in Charleston, and cared not at all if they did know.“I have seen many things that you all have not seen.The thousands of immigrants who'd be glad to fight for the Yankees for food and a few dollars, the factories, the foundries, the shipyards, the iron and coal mines—all the things we haven't got.Why, all we have is cotton and slaves and arrogance.They'd lick us in a month.”
For a tense moment, there was silence. Rhett Butler removed a fine linen handkerchief from his coat pocket and idly flicked dust from his sleeve.Then an ominous murmuring arose in the crowd and from under the arbor came a humming as unmistakable as that of a hive of newly disturbed bees.Even while she felt the hot blood of wrath still in her cheeks, something in Scarlett's practical mind prompted the thought that what this man said was right, and it sounded like common sense.Why, she'd never even seen a factory, or known anyone who had seen a factory.But, even if it were true, he was no gentleman to make such a statement—and at a party, too, where everyone was having a good time.
Stuart Tarleton, brows lowering, came forward with Brent close at his heels. Of course, the Tarleton twins had nice manners and they wouldn't make a scene at a barbecue, even though tremendously provoked.Just the same, all the ladies felt pleasantly excited, for it was so seldom that they actually saw a scene or a quarrel.Usually they had to hear of it thirdhand.
“Sir,”said Stuart heavily,“what do you mean?”
Rhett looked at him with polite but mocking eyes.
“I mean,”he answered,“what Napoleon—perhaps you've heard of him?—remarked once,‘God is on the side of the strongest battalion!'”and, turning to John Wilkes, he said with courtesy that was unfeigned:“You promised to show me your library, sir. Would it be too great a favor to ask to see it now?I fear I must go back to Jonesboro early this afternoon where a bit of business calls me.”
He swung about, facing the crowd, clicked his heels together and bowed like a dancing master, a bow that was graceful for so powerful a man, and asfull of impertinence as a slap in the face. Then he walked across the lawn with John Wilkes, his black head in the air, and the sound of his discomforting laughter floated back to the group about the tables.
There was a startled silence and then the buzzing broke out again. India rose tiredly from her seat beneath the arbor and went toward the angry Stuart Tarleton.Scarlett could not hear what she said, but the look in her eyes as she gazed up into his lowering face gave Scarlett something like a twinge of conscience.It was the same look of belonging that Melanie wore when she looked at Ashley, only Stuart did not see it.So India did love him.Scarlett thought for an instant that if she had not flirted so blatantly with Stuart at that political speaking a year ago, he might have married India long ere this.But then the twinge passed with the comforting thought that it wasn't her fault if other girls couldn't keep their men.
Finally Stuart smiled down at India, an unwilling smile, and nodded his head. Probably India had been pleading with him not to follow Mr.Butler and make trouble.A polite tumult broke under the trees as the guests arose, shaking crumbs from laps.The married women called to nurses and small children and gathered their broods together to take their departure, and groups of girls started off, laughing and talking, toward the house to exchange gossip in the upstairs bedrooms and to take their naps.
All the ladies except Mrs. Tarleton moved out of the back yard, leaving the shade of oaks and arbor to the men.She was detained by Gerald, Mr.Calvert and the others who wanted an answer from her about the horses for the Troop.
Ashley strolled over to where Scarlett and Charles sat, a thoughtful and amused smile on his face.
“Arrogant devil, isn't he?”he observed, looking after Butler.“He looks like one of the Borgias.”
Scarlett thought quickly but could remember no family in the County or Atlanta or Savannah by that name.
“I don't know them. Is he kin to them?Who are they?”
An odd look came over Charles'face, incredulity and shame struggling with love. Love triumphed as he realized that it was enough for a girl to be sweet and gentle and beautiful, without having an education to hamper hercharms, and he made swift answer:“The Borgias were Italians.”
“Oh,”said Scarlett, losing interest,“foreigners.”
She turned her prettiest smile on Ashley, but for some reason he was not looking at her. He was looking at Charles, and there was understanding in his face and a little pity.
