Indefatigable and patriotic efforts have made this bazaar not only

a pecuniary success," he began, "but have transformed this rough

hall into a bower of loveliness, a fit garden for the charming

rosebuds I see about me."

Everyone clapped approvingly.

"The ladies have given their best, not only of their time but of

the labor of their hands, and these beautiful objects in the

booths are doubly beautiful, made as they are by the fair hands of

our charming Southern women."

There were more shouts of approval, and Rhett Butler who had been

lounging negligently against the counter at Scarlett's side

whispered: "Pompous goat, isn't he?"

Startled, at first horrified, at this lese majesty toward

Atlanta's most beloved citizen, she stared reprovingly at him.

But the doctor did look like a goat with his gray chin whiskers

wagging away at a great rate, and with difficulty she stifled a

giggle.

"But these things are not enough. The good ladies of the hospital

committee, whose cool hands have soothed many a suffering brow and

brought back from the jaws of death our brave men wounded in the

bravest of all Causes, know our needs. I will not enumerate them.

We must have more money to buy medical supplies from England, and

we have with us tonight the intrepid captain who has so

successfully run the blockade for a year and who will run it again

to bring us the drugs we need. Captain Rhett Butler!"

Though caught unawares, the blockader made a graceful bow--too

graceful, thought Scarlett, trying to analyze it. It was almost

as if he overdid his courtesy because his contempt for everybody

present was so great. There was a loud burst of applause as he

bowed and a craning of necks from the ladies in the corner. So

that was who poor Charles Hamilton's widow was carrying on with!

And Charlie hardly dead a year!

"We need more gold and I am asking you for it," the doctor

continued. "I am asking a sacrifice but a sacrifice so small

compared with the sacrifices our gallant men in gray are making

that it will seem laughably small. Ladies, I want your jewelry.

_I_ want your jewelry? No, the Confederacy wants your jewelry,

the Confederacy calls for it and I know no one will hold back.

How fair a gem gleams on a lovely wrist! How beautifully gold

brooches glitter on the bosoms of our patriotic women! But how

much more beautiful is sacrifice than all the gold and gems of the

Ind. The gold will be melted and the stones sold and the money

used to buy drugs and other medical supplies. Ladies, there will

pass among you two of our gallant wounded, with baskets and--"

But the rest of his speech was lost in the storm and tumult of

clapping hands and cheering voices.

Scarlett's first thought was one of deep thankfulness that

mourning forbade her wearing her precious earbobs and the heavy

gold chain that had been Grandma Robillard's and the gold and

black enameled bracelets and the garnet brooch. She saw the

little Zouave, a split-oak basket over his unwounded arm, making

the rounds of the crowd on her side of the hall and saw women, old

and young, laughing, eager, tugging at bracelets, squealing in

pretended pain as earrings came from pierced flesh, helping each

other undo stiff necklace clasps, unpinning brooches from bosoms.

There was a steady little clink-clink of metal on metal and cries

of "Wait--wait! I've got it unfastened now. There!" Maybelle

Merriwether was pulling off her lovely twin bracelets from above

and below her elbows. Fanny Elsing, crying "Mamma, may I?" was

tearing from her curls the seed-pearl ornament set in heavy gold

which had been in the family for generations. As each offering

went into the basket, there was applause and cheering.

The grinning little man was coming to their booth now, his basket

heavy on his arm, and as he passed Rhett Butler a handsome gold

cigar case was thrown carelessly into the basket. When he came to

Scarlett and rested his basket upon the counter, she shook her

head throwing wide her hands to show that she had nothing to give.