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d the mills were irrevocably gone and Melanie was passing small glasses of wine to Ashley and Rhett to celebrate the transaction； Scarlett felt bereft as though she had sold one of her children。
The mills had been her darlings； her pride； the fruit of her small grasping hands。 She had started with one little mill in those black days when Atlanta was barely struggling up from ruin and ashes and want was staring her in the face。 She had fought and schemed and nursed them through the dark times when Yankee confiscation loomed； when money was tight and smart men going to the wall。 And now when Atlanta was covering its scars and buildings were going up everywhere and newcomers flocking to the town every day； she had two fine mills； two lumber yards； a dozen mule teams and convict labor to operate the business at low cost Bidding farewell to them was like closing a door forever on a part of her life； a bitter； harsh part but one which she recalled with a nostalgic satisfaction。
She had built up this business and now she had sold it and she was oppressed with the certainty that； without her at the helm； Ashley would lose it all—everything that she had worked to build。 Ashley trusted everyone and still hardly knew a two…by…four from a six…by…eight。 And now she would never be able to give him the benefit of her advice—all because Rhett had told him that she liked to boss everything。
“Oh； damn Rhett！” she thought and as she watched him the conviction grew that he was at the bottom of all this。 Just how and why she did not know。 He was talking to Ashley and his words brought her up sharply。
“I suppose you’ll turn the convicts back right away；” he said。
Turn the convicts back？ Why should there be any idea of turning them back？ Rhett knew perfectly well that the large profits from the mills grew out of the cheap convict labor。 And why did Rhett speak with such certainty about what Ashley’s future actions would be？ What did he know of him？
“Yes； they’ll go back immediately；” replied Ashley and he avoided Scarlett’s dumbfounded gaze。
“Have you lost your mind？” she cried。 “You’ll lose all the money on the lease and what kind of labor can you get； anyway？”
“I’ll use free darkies；” said Ashley。
“Free darkies！ Fiddle…dee…dee！ You know what their wages will cost and besides you’ll have the Yankees on your neck every minute to see if you’re giving them chicken three times a day and tucking them to sleep under eiderdown quilts。 And if you give a lazy darky a couple of licks to speed him up； you’ll hear the Yankees scream from here to Dalton and you’ll end up in jail。 Why； convicts are the only—”
Melanie looked down into her lap at her twisted hands。 Ashley looked unhappy but obdurate。 For a moment he was silent Then his gaze crossed Rhett’s and it was as if he found understanding and encouragement in Rhett’s eyes—a glance that was not lost on Scarlett。
“I won’t work convicts； Scarlett；” he said quietly。
“Well； sir！” her breath was taken away。 “And why not？ Are you afraid people will talk about you like they do about me？”
Ashley raised his head。
“I’m not afraid of what people say as long as I’m right。 And I have never felt that convict labor was right。”
“But why—”
“I can’t make money from the enforced labor and misery of others。”
“But you owned slaves！”
“They weren’t miserable。 And besides； I’d have freed them all when Father died if the war hadn’t already freed them。 But this is different； Scarlett。 The system is open to too many abuses。 Perhaps you don’t know it but I do。 I know very well that Johnnie Gallegher has killed at least one man at his camp。 Maybe more—who cares about one convict； more or less？ He said the man was killed trying to escape； but that’s not what I’ve heard elsewhere。 And I know he works men who are too sick to work。 Call it superstition； but I do not believe that happiness can come from money made from the sufferings of others。”
“God’s nightgown！ You mean—goodness； Ashley； you didn’t swallow all the Reverend Wallace’s bellowings about tainted money？”
“I didn’t have to swallow it I believed it long before he preached on it。”
“Then； you must think all my money is tainted；” cried Scarlett beginning to be angry。 “Because I worked convicts and own saloon property and—” She stopped short。 Both the Wilkes looked embarrassed and Rhett was grinning broadly。 Damn him； thought Scarlett； vehemently。 He’s thinking that I’m sticking my finger in other people’s pies again and so is Ashley。 I’d like to crack their heads together！ She swallowed her wrath and tried to assume an aloof air of dignity but with little success。
“Of course； it’s immaterial to me；” she said。
“Scarlett； don’t think I’m criticizing you！ I’m not。 It’s just that we look at things in different ways and what is good for you might not be good for me。”
She suddenly wished that they were alone； wished ardently that Rhett and Melanie were at the end of the earth； so she could cry out： “But I want to look at things the way you look at them！ Tell me just what you mean； so I can understand and be like you！”
But with Melanie present； trembling with the distress of the scene； and Rhett lounging； grinning at her； she could only say with as much coolness and offended virtue as she could muster： “I’m sure it’s your own business； Ashley； and far be it from me to tell you how to run it。 But； I must say； I do not understand your attitude or your remarks。”
Oh； if they were only alone； so she would not be forced to say these cool things to him； these words that were making him unhappy！
“I’ve offended you； Scarlett； and I did not mean to。 You must believe me and forgive me。 There is nothing enigmatic in what I said。 It is only that I believe that money which comes in certain ways seldom brings happiness。”
“But you’re wrong！” she cried； unable to restrain herself any longer。 “Look at me！ You know how my money came。 You know how things were before I made my money！ You remember that winter at Tara when it was so cold and we were cutting up the carpets for shoes and there wasn’t enough to eat and we used to wonder how we were going to give Beau and Wade an education。 You remem—”
“I remember；” said Ashley tiredly； “but I’d rather forget。”
“Well； you can’t say any of us were happy then； can you？ And look at us now！ You’ve a nice home and a good future。 And has anyone a prettier house than mine or nicer clothes or finer horses？ Nobody sets as fine a table as me or gives nicer receptions and my children have everything they want。 Well； how did I get the money to make it possible？ Off trees？ No； sir！ Convicts and saloon rentals and—”
“And don’t forget murdering that Yankee；” said Rhett softly。 “He really gave you your start。”
Scarlett swung on him； furious words on her lips。
“And the money has made you very； very happy； hasn’t it； darling？” he asked； poisonously sweet。
Scarlett stopped short； her mouth open； and her eyes went swiftly to the eyes of the other three。 Melanie was almost crying with embarrassment； Ashley was suddenly bleak and withdrawn and Rhett was watching her over his