The morning after her visit with Ashley Scarlett felt a good bit lighter about their relationship, even though the subject matter had been anything but light. Reflecting on how she had mostly only reacted to Rhett's actions and offenses without comprehension of the game he was playing over the years - so many years! - made her feel childish and weak. Oh, how her face turned red when she recalled blathering on about loving him during his obviously planned farewell speech. And the 'appearances' visits afterward, while she trembled with want and need just like that puppy Ashley spoke of, a puppy begging for attention, only to be kicked away again and again.

But at least Ashley, who, in all truth, was nearly the only person left who had known her all her life and through her marriages, could give some comfort.

When she had visited with him at the mills before, they had always talked like old friends. She hadn't thought about it at the time, but that's really why she had liked visiting him. And of course, he was nice to her. Pleasant. Never mean or trying to trick her or make fun of her. Spending time with a man who was nice and complimentary had felt good during her lonely, fractious marriage to Rhett. If it hadn't been so fractious, if he had remained consistently sweet, like he had when she was pregnant with Ella, when they were friends and their marriage hadn't been in the way for some odd reason - well, things might have been different.

But with Ashley, last night their relationship took a turn and they had gossiped like, well, like girlfriends. She laughed at the thought. Ashley as a girlfriend, a bosom confidante, without the misplaced romantic feelings of before. But it did feel oddly apt. And she felt much less alone now, knowing there was an old friend who understood her, if nothing else.

And perhaps, as he said, she could work on understanding people, and opening her oyster shell of a heart.

The more time she spent in the Inman House the more Scarlett liked it. It had a good feeling, like the people who had lived there over the years had been happy and their ghosts were welcoming, as silly as it seemed. It was mostly white walls but the decor was blues and greens with a little yellow mixed in, very calming. The grounds were most beautiful, with a small white gazebo and many flowering plants and trees. It's love, she realized as she walked around. The people who lived here had loved this place, and it reflected that.

The neighborhood was also nice, with several families new to town and children around Wade and Ella's age. It felt like she was moving to an entirely different place instead of a few blocks away. The wraparound porch had a huge swing to the left of the front door, double the size of a normal porch swing, and Scarlett piled up pillows and blankets on it so she could read and nap. Or rather, one day, she could read and nap there. If things ever got settled with all the moving and building.

On Friday Scarlett picked a somewhat subdued dark blue silk evening dress for the supper, trimmed with a few small emerald green fleur de lis across the bodice and half of the skirt, in keeping with the planning meeting of a French-themed hotel, she thought. Not too low cut, but it did successfully hint at her natural charms. She wasn't a nun, after all. In lieu of a shawl, the dress had an emerald green silk jacket, fitted, but with a rounded collar. If the dinner progressed to drinks and socializing afterward she could remove it.

She eschewed all jewelry given to her by her current husband other than her wedding band, including the engagement ring, and chose to wear Ellen O'Hara's pearls, enhanced by a small emerald drop and matching ear bobs that had belonged to Frank's mother.

She'd made notes all week and folded them into her dark blue reticule. Oh, it was just a business meeting, but she hadn't been out to supper in such a long time, she couldn't even remember when. She asked Prissy to do her hair, which she fixed in a high and loose chignon with wispy pieces around the face.

"It's how it's done now, Miss Scarlett," she assured her.

Scarlett liked the way it looked, softer, more feminine, and, best of all somehow made her appear younger.

"Do you think it's bad, Prissy, for me to go out all dressed up? With men who aren't my husband, even though it is a business supper?"

"Why no, Miss Scarlett, your mourning is over," Prissy said and then added a little slyly, "Besides, you know Mr. Rhett is dressing up and going out wherever he is."

Well, there's that. She wondered if he wore his wedding ring out. Or at all.

"Oh Prissy. I'm sorry to bring this up with you. Everything's such a mess and I don't have anyone to talk to since Mammy left because it was so miserable here. I hope we can be happier in the new house." Prissy shook her head.

"It's no matter to me, and Mammy is your mammy, not his. And she always used to say she never understood why you went and married a triflin' joker like Captain Butler anyway." She covered her mouth in embarrassment. Scarlett laughed out loud.

"A trifling joker? She called him that?" How delightful! "But she liked him after he was so taken with Bonnie."

"Oh yes, she liked him better then, but later, when Mr. Rhett tried to put Little Miss in between you and him - well, no one liked that, including Mammy. No one liked that one little bit."

Well, she probably hadn't liked a lot of things I did either, Scarlett thought. But then she remembered again about how he had played around with Bonnie's affections for her. It wasn't all in her mind; the entire household had been aware. She had always felt that society took Rhett's side over hers after he worked so hard to improve his public image, quite often at the expense of her own. Perhaps the people here at home had been a bit more discerning. The thought warmed her heart.

"Thank you Prissy," Scarlett said. She wanted to hug her, as odd as that might have been. "I don't want to make you feel funny, talking about these things." Prissy nodded. "And don't forget the lessons we're starting on Sunday."

Prissy spoke carefully. "I hope you have a nice time tonight, Miss Scarlett. Just, just a real nice time."

She wouldn't look Scarlett in the eye. After an awkward moment, she spoke again.

"Miss Ella and I have been practicing my letters already. I will show you," she disappeared around the corner and a few minutes later brought back a stack of papers and handed them to Scarlett.

Oh. Oh my. Dear Ella, sweet, sweet Ella! Scarlett took the shaft of papers and went through them with increasing awe. Ella had drawn a letter of the alphabet on each one, with big, thick swooping black lines, and then with her new colored pencils drew pictures and the matching words that started with each letter. The B had birds and butterflies and baubles - she had drawn Scarlett's emerald necklace from Rhett for that - and on and on, each page painstakingly well done, truly remarkably well done for a girl her age.

"She's only gotten to the 'P' so far," Prissy said, proudly passing the last sheet to Scarlett. It had a depiction of Prissy feeding Pigeons in the Park, and once again Scarlett was amazed at the craftsmanship and skill of a child Ella's age. She'd managed to capture Prissy's inner beauty and peace, somehow, just in her downcast expression and outturned hands. Scarlett swallowed.

"You can take those around with you as you work," she said. "And take a break every so often and look at a few. It will help you to learn faster." Prissy smiled and gathered the papers up as though they were precious jewels. Which they were.

Well, it won't do to cry, Scarlett thought. I have an entire evening ahead of me. She inspected her appearance once more; she did look just about her very best. The dark blue silk complimented her dark hair that Prissy had brushed until it gleamed and put in the becoming style. The little fleur de lis picked up the emerald in her eyes. The pearls reflected her skin, which was just as pale and luminous. She bit her lips to bring their natural ruby tint forward. Excitement pinkened her cheeks, and time had not thinned her thick black eyelashes.

Soon it was time and Pork drove her to the National so she wouldn't be riding unchaperoned. She'd made arrangements earlier in the day for Ennis to charge everyone's dinner to her account with his firm, and make sure that the other men knew it. They would be her guests, after all.

OooOOOooooOOOO

A/N I need more time to work out the next section so I thought I'd go ahead and post what I have so far. Thank you again and sorry for the delay - I'm on it, promise!

Fun fact: When were colored pencils created?

1834

In the year 1834, one year before the foundation of the company, Johann Sebastian Staedtler had already invented a coloured oil pastel pencil that could be sharpened to a point just like a pencil, making it one of the first coloured pencils ever.