The day came when his pale blue eyes, perfectly cognizant of his surroundings, fell upon Carreen sitting beside him, telling her rosary beads, the morning sun shining through her f ...

For all his lankiness he was tough, and good nursing pulled him through.

And he sounds like he didn't have a soul in the world.

A man ought to have some folks, she said.

Never once did he call for mother, wife, sister or sweetheart and this omission worried Carreen.

Emaciated from a year in a Yankee prison, exhausted by his long tramp on his ill-fitting wooden peg, he had little strength to combat pneumonia and for days he lay in the bed moani ...

But this knowledge did not keep them from laboring to save him.

But they knew instinctively, as they knew thoroughbred horses from scrubs, that he was not of their class.

Certainly the language he used in his delirium was no less grammatical than that of the Tarleton twins.

Certainly Will was no dirtier, no more hairy, no more lice infested than many fine gentlemen who came to Tara.

Just how the girls knew this they could not say.

He was obviously a Cracker, just as the boy they had buried so short a while ago was obviously a planter's son.

One of his legs was gone at the knee and to the stump was fitted a roughly whittled wooden peg.

He had the sallow malarial face of the south Georgia Cracker, pale pinkish hair and washed-out blue eyes which even in delirium were patient and mild.

Will was acutely ill with pneumonia and when the girls put him to bed, they feared he would soon join the boy in the burying ground.

Will Benteen was another soldier, like the nameless boy, who arrived unconscious across the saddle of a comrade.

They buried the cadet in the family burying ground, next to the three little O'Hara boys, and Melanie cried sharply as Pork filled in the grave, wondering in her heart if strangers ...

The girls thought he must be one of the little cadets who had been called out of military school when Sherman approached Milledgeville but they never knew, for he died without rega ...

He had found him unconscious by the roadside and had brought him, across his saddle, to Tara, the nearest house.

One boy, on whose face a blond fuzz had just begun to sprout, was dumped on the front porch by a mounted soldier bound for Fayetteville.

Someone had to nurse him and that meant one less worker at the business of fence building, hoeing, weeding and plowing.

Each sick man meant another mouth to feed.

When the soldiers were too ill to go on, and there were many such, Scarlett put them to bed with none too good grace.

After that, Melanie noticed there was more food on the table when guests were present, even though Scarlett might grudge them every mouthful.

Scarlett turned away, wordless.

Every time I give some poor man my share I think that maybe, somewhere on the road up north, some woman is giving my Ashley a share of her dinner and it's helping him to get home t ...

You don't know how it helps me.

Oh, Scarlett, don't scold me! Let me do it.

Melanie turned to her and on her face was the first expression of naked emotion Scarlett had ever seen in those serene eyes.

They've stood it for four years and it won't hurt them to stand it a little while longer.

They can stand it.

Let these men go hungry.

You're half sick yourself and if you don't eat more, you'll be sick in bed and we'll have to nurse you.

You'll have to stop it, Melanie, she scolded.

This order prevailed until she noticed that Melanie, who had never been strong since Beau was born, was inducing Pork to put only dabs of food on her plate and giving her share to ...

So, she gave orders to Pork that when soldiers were in the house, the table should be set sparely.

They would never again stand between her and danger.

Why should she feed this horde of hungry men? The war was over.

Only a few greenbacks and the two gold pieces were left now.

Food was so hard to get and the money in the Yankee's wallet would not last forever.

They were eating the food meant for the mouths of Tara, vegetables over whose long rows she had wearied her back, food she had driven endless miles to buy.

As the never-ending line went by, her heart hardened.

She knew that era had passed forever, but the rest of the household did not, nor did the soldiers, and each soldier was welcomed as if he were a long- awaited guest.

She cursed again the old custom of hospitality which had flowered in the era of plenty, the custom which would not permit any traveler, great or humble, to go on his journey withou ...

Scarlett thought despairingly that a plague of locusts would be more welcome.

Soldiers came singly and in pairs and dozens and they were always hungry.

God did not frighten her any more.

When such thoughts came she did not pray hastily to God, telling Him she did not mean it.

Then she could have married Ashley after a decent interval and made little Beau a good stepmother too.

That would have made things perfect.