Chapter 82

Some weeks later, Scarlett asked Mrs. Finch to have her morning classes with Ella in the sunny rooms of the house where the balcony looked out over the gardens to the busy street. Ella objected at first but finally gave in. Scarlett had the room dusted and some tables and chairs put together and she herself brought in an armchair and sat there either sewing something or composing a letter. Every alternate day, she went with Wade to his law school. So, she always appeared busy. Whenever Ella painted anything beautiful, Scarlett eagerly took it and circulated it among Maybelle Picard's family and even to the house of Dr. Meade and Mrs. Meade. Maybelle eagerly promised to send her son too once she had the new baby. They were getting to become good friends.

And this was when Scarlett began collecting magazines and showing the most beautiful pictures to Ella and also making small notes of lessons for Wade. Once she showed a picture of some puppies in a flower basket and Ella made some remark about one puppy looking rather squint-eyed when Scarlett said that it didn't matter what the puppy looked like but that Ella must see the symmetry of the flowers and how well they were drawn to make up a picture. She noticed Mrs. Finch look up sharply and expected her to speak up but the lady never said a word. But later on, Mrs. Finch came up to her and said, "I noticed you were showing some pictures to little Lorena, Mrs. Butler - Why were you doing it?"

"Why, I was only encouraging her-"

"Yes, but why?"

"Won't it help her to become a better artist?"

"Is that the way you see it? That you must sit here every morning and offer pictures for her to see so that she may learn to paint better?"

Scarlett studied Mrs. Finch's face. But there was no anger in her tone. And her face did not seem upset or irritated either. She merely looked very inquisitive. Like a little bird looking at you over a very pointed beak. She had never seen such an inquisitive woman before. When Scarlett opened her mouth, she found she could not speak. Mrs. Finch continued, "perhaps you assume that when Lorena sees the picture and goes to her brush and paper, she might think that her Mother has shown the picture so she must expect her to paint something like it. Soon Lorena pays more attention to me and learns faster so that she can paint better pictures for her Mother and earn her affection- Is that the benefit you are giving her?"

Scarlett was taken aback. "No of course not. Ella has my affection. It is for her own sake that I want her to learn-"

"Yes, but it is you who is showing the pictures- Now, if you left them lying on the chair , she might find them on her own-"

"Oh yes, that is what you think." replied Scarlett, a little spiritedly. "Ella never cares to look around her room- she only stays in her dreams and-" Scarlett stopped short and blinked. She looked at Mrs. Finch and blurted "I... I do encourage her- its just that, she wont pursue her talent unless someone drives her-"

"So, you have elected yourself? Why? Why do you have to do this?"

"Because-" Scarlett blinked once again, wondering why she couldn't think of anything to say. Finally she said , "Well, what else is there to do?! This is what all Mothers do. I would love to run a store if I could. I did too, a long time ago. But people spoke badly of me. My own Aunts who lived in Savannah. I sent them money every month and they still spoke badly of me. And I tried running saw mills- they were my own mills- my very own, precious mills which gave me so much comfort during the Reconstruction and my husband made me get rid of them. I hosted parties and people didn't like the kind of people who were invited. And later on, I found jobs for maids and butlers and that turned out all right, I suppose- I hosted meetings right above this floor- so many meetings were held there but they grew dangerous and people spoke badly about me then too-"

"Then in the case of the store, the business, the parties, the jobs- were they good ventures or not?"

"They fetched money- the parties were fine and the jobs were good, I suppose- I had a letter from a maid who thanked me-"

"Fetching money is important, Mrs. Butler- but money isn't a clear indication. What was people's opinions about the ventures themselves? Were they good or bad?"

Scarlett fumbled. "I..I don't know-"

"Why not?"

"I suppose I was moving so quickly that I didn't have time to think about it- Rhett.. Mr. Butler told me I had stumbled on something good when I started running my mills. He gave me money to start them. But I was only a little more successful than the others-"

"Ah! So, Mr. Butler gave you the idea?"

"No of course not." Scarlett shook her head with a laugh and then remembered about Rhett telling her that there was a profit to be made in the collapse of an empire. She conveyed this to Mrs. Finch who smiled immediately.

"That is a very good idea. Don't you see, Mrs. Butler- that idea has created the possibility in your mind and you were brave enough to implement it- Did Mr. Butler approve of your business?"

"No. Well.. sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't. In the end, he made me give it up- because he hated that I was trying to support Mr. Wilkes and his family. Melanie and I shared the same Aunt. You must know that I was once married to Mr. Charles Hamilton. He was Melanie's older brother and Melanie and I were sisters. I looked after her baby which was born during the war and I came to take care of her family-"

"Oh yes, I heard about that-" said Mrs. Finch, lost in thought. "And was Mr. Wilkes satisfied? Was he content to live under your roof, as your guests?"

"I suppose so. Melanie told me that she was grateful. She asked Ashley to work in my mill. She loved Atlanta, you see-"

"But what about Mr. Wilkes?"

Scarlett gave a bitter laugh. "Ashley Wilkes wanted to work in a bank in New York. That's the silliest thing I ever heard of. Ashley was ever meant to slog like that- in an unimaginative, confined place like a bank!"

Mrs. Finch looked surprised. "Why not, Mrs. Butler? A bank is a fine respectable place for a man to work in-"

"But Ashley was different- he was like a-" Scarlett hesitated and blushed a little. Mrs. Finch kindly encouraged her on. "Tell me, Mrs. Butler- You can speak plainly with me-"

"Well, you must understand, Mrs. Finch that I knew Ashley for many years before each of us were married and I always thought he was like a handsome.. a handsome prince.. yes,Prince Charming from the fairy tales.. and he was meant to write poetry and read books and not meant for ordinary things-"

"Mrs. Butler, I am very sorry to say this to you." Mrs. Finch shrugged her shoulders lightly. "But your thoughts are quite absurd-"

Scarlett smiled to herself. "I couldn't help feeling those things. I was very young and those were tender feelings- They are beautiful to me."

Mrs. Finch closed her eyes and breathed quietly. "Mrs. Butler, those aren't feelings. Those are thoughts, extremely absurd thoughts but still thoughts...perhaps even a bizarre intuition of some sort. You do know that Prince Charming from the fairy-tale never actually performed any feat- He was merely the King's son and the only good he did was to demand that he marry only the girl he desired- You must have picked up nuance without realizing it-"

"Oh."

"What happened to Mr. Wilkes?"

"He worked for me at the saw mill-"

"What was his job there? Did he manage it all?"

"He had to manage the mill, yes- check the purchases, manage orders, keep a ledger-"

"And did he do those calculations well?"

"No" said Scarlett, remembering things in a rush. "He used to sit dreaming over the books-"

"Mrs. Butler, if Ashley had gone to his bank, he would have sat dreaming over the books there too, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, I suppose so-"

"Then if he really wasn't meant to be doing that sort of thing, why didn't you just put him up at his house and make him read poetry?"

"That wouldn't be- well, Ashley was very proud, he wouldn't- he couldn't-" Scarlett sighed. "I don't really want to remember all these things, Mrs. Finch. I don't see why-"

"Mrs. Butler, you have grasped the truth that honest emotions come only when sufficient labour is done. You worked hard and you earned a living. So, your feelings were genuine. Did Mr. Wilkes want to become as genuine as you?"

"Well, not at first- all that sentiment kept him from seeing the truth- but eventually-I always hoped that he would-"

"Did he?"

"No.. no he didn't."

"Then why did you do what you did?"

"Well, I had to help him, didn't I? Melanie wanted me to- Melanie was like a sister to me. She always appreciated me."

"Did Mr. Wilkes-"

"No" said Scarlet, glumly. "He took it in a different way." Scarlett looked pained. "The way men usually take it-" Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. "You see, Mrs. Finch, even if Mr. Wilkes- Ashley Wilkes was married and with a son, we were still friends and I thought he might see something sublime and noble in me- But in the end, I found out that he was only taken up by my other qualities-"

"Oh yes, men can be very dense that way. You mustn't blame yourself. Its all right. You must have more compassion on yourself. You think you are unlike other women but you very much are a woman-"

"I thought only a real man could know my worth-" cried Scarlett. "But he turned out to be a child too!"

"I know about these mistakes that women usually make-"

"Is it a very bad mistake?"

"No. Of course not. Why do you think that way? What do you think about it?"

"I...I don't know-"

"Why not?"

"I've never been able to. I..I don't think I am delicate enough to feel these things-"

"I see. Well, you do have a problem. When you do things for people, you become dependant on them to know if what you have done is good or bad. But since you have been taken for a ride with Mr. Wilkes, I wonder if you really want to try that again- No, I don't think you should."

Mrs. Finch was mostly talking to herself now. Suddenly she turned to Scarlett, "I'll help you dear. I will. I only need some time. Meanwhile, you must find some other challenge for yourself and leave the pictures here. Whatever a child discovers by herself, she will pursue with more interest and willpower. Trust me, dear- And don't fret. I won't tell a soul about what transpired between us just now."