you know we promised not to tell

“I don’t like Mammy Jincy’s fortunes. You know she said I was going to marry a gentleman with jet-black hair and a long black mustache, and I don’t like black-haired gentlemen.” 　“You like ‘em red-headed, don’t you, honey?” grinned Brent “Now, come on, promise us all the waltzes and the supper.” 　“If you’ll promise, we’ll tell you a secret,” said Stuart. 　“What?” cried Scarlett, alert as a child at the word. 　“Is it what we heard yesterday in Atlanta, Stu? If it is, you know we promised not to tell.” 　“Well, Miss Pitty told us.” 　“Miss Who?” 　“You know, Ashley Wilkes’ cousin who lives in Atlanta, Miss Pittypat Hamilton—Charles and Melanie Hamilton’s aunt.” 　“I do, and a sillier old lady I never met in all my life.” 　“Well, when we were in Atlanta yesterday, waiting for the home train, her carriage went by the depot and she stopped and talked to us, and she told us there was going to be an engagement announced tomorrow night at the Wilkes ball.” 　“Oh, I know about that,” said Scarlett in disappointment. “That silly nephew of hers, Charlie Hamilton, and Honey Wilkes. Everybody’s known for years that they’d get married some time, even if he did seem kind of lukewarm about it.” 　“Do you think he’s silly?” questioned Brent. “Last Christmas you sure let him buzz round you plenty.” 　“I couldn’t help him buzzing,” Scarlett shrugged negligently. “I think he’s an awful sissy.” 　“Besides, it isn’t his engagement that’s going to be announced,” said Stuart triumphantly. “It’s Ashley’s to Charlie’s sister, Miss Melanie!” 　Scarlett’s face did not change but her lips went white—like a person who has received a stunning blow without warning and who, in the first moments of shock, does not realize what has happened. So still was her face as she stared at Stuart that he, never analytic, took it for granted that she was merely surprised and very interested. 　“Miss Pitty told us they hadn’t intended announcing it till next year, because Miss Melly hasn’t been very well; but with all the war talk going around, everybody in both families thought it would be better to get married soon. So it’s to be announced tomorrow night at the supper intermission. Now, Scarlett, we’ve told you the secret, so you’ve got to promise to eat supper with us.” 　“Of course I will,” Scarlett said automatically. 　“And all the waltzes?” 　“All.”