Atlanta was bustling and busy, and never more than now, when Scarlett alighted out of the carriage, could an otherworldly sense of what could and would make an impression on this city make Scarlett perhaps a little more timid than otherwise felt.

For all around her, construction and a hive of activity and mud splashed if she were not careful, did Scarlett see Uncle Peter, and alighting to his carriage and seeing to it that she was comfortable, did Uncle Peter begin his frown and opinion on many of the folks in "'Lanta".

"Don' go anywar near dar," Uncle Peter held his chin high, refusing to look upon those who looked back upon them, as Scarlett, convinced of the politenesses which Ellen would show, beckoned her neck out, torn between what to do, "They's free issue. We's got no bidness wit' dem."

The carriage jostled along, and compared with the staid life of Tara and the County, Scarlett, knowing her purpose in coming here, felt some delight, and some refrain for all that this noise and bustle meant, was precisely that: noise.

She was worried that she would avert her mission before she had completed it, for all the activity served to only slow her progress, she could block out those thoughts in her mind, she could tarry here forever long, and never know that unfulfilled promise of the unbridled happiness she was sure locked in Melanie's heart, and the key hung next to Miss Pittypatt's brandy cabinet.

From afar, Scarlett saw a red-haired woman, and before she could consider what her outburst might mean, declared, "I do say - "

Uncle Peter, as grim and as focused as Mammy might at sudden curiosity from his young and sheltered charge, peered for only a second before his top lip fattened mightily.

"They's no' good folk. You is havin' no bidness worryin' 'bout dat."

This seclusion only stifled and incensed Scarlett, for though she was not truly curious, it inflamed her that she saw some of her predicament in Belle.

What if Belle wanted to better herself? But to such meanderings, Scarlett knew there was by one course of action that Belle could stop, but even so, once tainted, in this society forever ousted. And Scarlett, ruminating on these charitable thoughts, was sure the pit of her belly would now open up and feel good - but alas, her thoughts were driven by motivation, and when her enforced charitable thoughts did not swell her soul, and only leave her to bitterly ruminate how else to achieve that happiness, did the scowl on her features deepen.

Oh, what she would give to be merry again, and know not the horrors of war, insofar as a life far away from Tara could be concerned with. Oh, what this place meant, of memories for Scarlett, but of a life lived quite differently from anywhere near here.

The carriage neared Pittypat's home, and this was where Aunt Pittypat lost all composure, through the fluttering of curtains and nearing the stoop, Scarlett alighted, and all pretense at pride to seem above it all, following all attempt at the modesty which shone from Melanie to outshine her in that, Scarlett felt very bewildered indeed to copy it, and her mind was a jumble.

"Oh, Scarlett," Melanie kissed her cheeks, and after making do with all that could be dispensed towards Uncle Peter, invited her inside, and Aunt Pittypat fussing as all that was her custom. "Welcome, welcome. Have you travelled long?"

Scarlett, seeing in Melanie so thorough a comfort to herself, having only up to this point maintained a pride that was not Ellen's, a superiority that was not Ellen's, and knowing and feeling remote from everyone else, knew she could not learn from Melanie that inner contentment that shone from her frail, loving body.

"Oh, dear," supposed Scarlett, when settled in her rooms to change, while the dinner was being laid downstairs, on the eve of what was sure to be a feast and outside, the chicken crowed on the eve of Uncle Peter chasing it acros the yard, "There is no inclination in me to be like Melanie. I can suppose what it means to be Ellen - but there is only revulsion in being kind. I fear - if I were Melanie herself, I would spoil her from the inside out. There is no need at all to pretend."

Scarlett, coming downstairs to meet Aunt Pittypat's hospitality and all that entailed, sat close to Melanie, where once driven out of a need to inhabit her presence and learn how to be like her, now was only a longing to be friends with her, and knowing she, Scarlett, was inferior to Melanie.

"Surely I would do better as someone else's daughter," Scarlett thought, watching Melanie's lips move, knowing in them there was no juncture at which Melanie thought only of her own aims, "Melanie is truly Ellen's like, and there can be no future for me, not while I remain here. Is it knowledge, is it presence, is it penance? None can compare to Melanie, to the stain on my own soul, that must be enriched by her. I could spend all my days with her and know not - I only know Scarlett's avarice and strength. For it has served me well! But in peacetime, as this is, my soul should rest. But I cannot. I cannot think of what the world would do to Melanie. And I can only protect her."

In this, Scarlett resolved that whatever peacetime might bring, her presence alone caused comfort to Melanie. This puzzled her, for Scarlett's ego was not swollen on giving that comfort to Melanie. There was no material gain or for vanity. And yet, sticking to such, was duty Scarlett idly thought no better than sitting at prayer, and she considered it as such, for Scarlett felt at this juncture, where she did not know where to turn for her own aims, that she better stay idle where she was, and learn.