“Oh, Scarlett!” she cried, shutting the door and sinking on the bed. “Is Auntie home yet? Sheisn’t? Oh, thank the Lord! Scarlett, I’m so mortified 2 bedroom house for rent I could die! I nearly swooned and, Scarlett,Uncle Peter is threatening to tell Aunt Pitty!”
“Tell what?”
“That I was talking to that—to Miss—Mrs.—” Melanie fanned her hot face with herhandkerchief. “That woman with red hair, named Belle Watling!”
“Why, Melly!” cried Scarlett, so shocked she could only stare.
Belle Watling was the red-haired woman she the first day she came toAtlanta and by now, she was easily the most notorious woman in town. Many prostitutes hadflocked into Atlanta, following the soldiers, but Belle stood out above the rest, due to her flaminghair and the gaudy, overly fashionable dresses she wore. She was seldom seen on Peachtree Streetor in any nice neighborhood, but when she did appear respectable women made haste to cross thestreet to remove themselves from her vicinity. And Melanie had been talking with her. No wonderUncle Peter was outraged.
“I shall die if Aunt Pitty finds out! You know she’ll cry and tell everybody in town and I’ll bedisgraced,” sobbed Melanie. “And it wasn’t my fault. I—I couldn’t run away from her. It wouldhave been so rude. Scarlett, I—I felt sorry for her. Do you think I’m bad for feeling that way?”
But Scarlett was not concerned with the ethics of the matter. Like most innocent and well-bredyoung women, she had a devouring curiosity about prostitutes.
“What did she want? What does she talk like?”
“Oh, she used awful grammar but I could see she was trying so hard to be elegant, and Uncle Peter and the carriage weren’t waiting, so I thought I’d walkhome. And when I went by the Emersons’ yard, there she was hiding behind the hedge! Oh, thankHeaven, the Emersons are in Macon! And she said, ‘Please, Mrs. Wilkes, do speak a minute withme.’ I don’t know how she knew my name. I knew I ought to run as hard as I could but—well,Scarlett, she looked so sad and—well, sort of pleading. And she had on a black dress and blackbonnet and no paint and really looked decent but for that red hair. And before I could answer shesaid, ‘I know I shouldn’t speak to you but I tried to talk to that old peahen, Mrs. Elsing, and she ranme away from the hospital.’ ”
“Did she really call her a peahen?” said Scarlett pleasedly and laughed.
“Oh, don’t laugh. It isn’t funny. It seems that Miss—this woman, wanted to do something for thehospital—can you imagine it? She offered to nurse every morning and, of course, Mrs. Elsing musthave nearly died at the idea and ordered her out of the hospital. And then she said, ‘I want to dosomething, too. Ain’t I a Confedrut, good as you?’And, Scarlett, I was right touched at her wantingto help. You know, she can’t be all bad if she wants to help the Cause. Do you think I’m bad to feelthat way?”
“For Heaven’s sake, Melly, who cares if you’re bad? What else did she say?”
“She said she’d been watching the ladies go by to the hospital and thought I had—a—a kindface and so she stopped me. She had some money and she wanted me to take it and use it for thehospital -and not tell a soul where it came from . She said Mrs. Elsing wouldn’t let it be used if sheknew what kind of money it was. What kind of money! That’s when I thought I’d swoon! And Iwas so upset and anxious to get away, I just said: ‘Oh, yes, indeed, how sweet of you’ or somethingidiotic, and she smiled and said: That’s right Christian of you’ and shoved this duty handkerchiefinto my hand. Ugh, can you smell the perfume?”
Melanie held out a man’s handkerchief, soiled and highly perfumed, in which some coins wereknotted.
“She was saying thank you and something about bringing me some money every week and justthen Uncle Peter drove up and saw me!” Melly collapsed into tears and laid her head on the pillow.