Float

“I’ll not be holding up my head in this town,” she began. “You’ve disgraced us all.”
“Hold your tongue, Puss. Can you not see me head is bursting?”
“Coming home drunk with a man like Captain Butler, and singing at the top of your lungs for everyone to hear and

losing all that money.”
“The man is too clever with cards to be a gentleman. He—”
“What will Mother say when she hears?”
He looked up in sudden anguished apprehension.
“You wouldn’t be telling your mother a word and upsetting her, now would you?”
Scarlett said nothing but pursed her lips.
“Think now how ‘twould hurt her and her so gentle.”
“And to think, Pa, that you said only last night I had disgraced the family! Me, with my poor little dance to make

money for the soldiers. Oh, I could cry.”
“Well, don’t,” pleaded Gerald. “ ‘Twould be more than me poor head could stand and sure ‘tis bursting now.”
“And you said that I—”
“Now Puss, now Puss, don’t you be hurt at what your poor old father said and him not meaning a thing and not

understanding a thing! Sure, you’re a fine well-meaning girl, I’m sure.”
“And wanting to take me home in disgrace.”
“Ah, darling, I wouldn’t be doing that. ‘Twas to tease you. You won’t be mentioning the money to your mother and

her in a flutter about expenses already?”
“No,” said Scarlett frankly, “I won’t, if you’ll let me stay here and if you’ll tell Mother that ‘twas nothing

but a lot of gossip from old cats.”
Gerald looked mournfully at his daughter.
“ ‘Tis blackmail, no less.”
“And last night was a scandal, no less.”
“Well,” he began wheedlingly, “we’ll be forgetting all that. And do you think a fine pretty lady like Miss Pittypat

would be having any brandy in the house? The hair of the dog—”
Scarlett turned and tiptoed through the silent hall into the dining room to get the brandy bottle that she and Melly

privately called the “swoon bottle” because Pittypat always took a sip from it when her fluttering heart made her faint

—or seem to faint. Triumph was written on her face and no trace of shame for her unfilial treatment of Gerald. Now Ellen

would be soothed with lies if any other busybody wrote her. Now she could stay in Atlanta. Now she could do almost as she

pleased, Pittypat being the weak vessel that she was. She unlocked the cellaret and stood for a moment with the bottle

and glass pressed to her bosom.
She saw a long vista of picnics by the bubbling waters of Peachtree Creek and barbecues at Stone Mountain, receptions

and balls, afternoon danceables, buggy rides and Sunday-night buffet suppers. She would be there, right in the heart of

things, right in the center of a crowd of men. And men fell in love so easily, after you did little things for them at

the hospital. She wouldn’t mind the hospital so much now. Men were so easily stirred when they had been ill. They fell

into a clever girl’s hand just like the ripe peaches at Tara when the trees were gently shaken.
She went back toward her father with me reviving liquor, thanking Heaven that the famous O’Hara head had not been able

to survive last night’s bout and wondering suddenly if Rhett Butler had had anything to do with that.