Amos nodded. "Just what I said."
"But I think that's awful," protested Lydia. "We owe Mr. Levine so much now."
The effect of her words on John was astonishing. He half rose from his chair and said in a tone not to be forgotten, "Lydia, never let me hear you speak again of owing me anything! Between you and me there can never be any sense of obligation. Do you understand me?"
There was a moment's silence at the table, Amos and Lizzie glanced at each other, but Lydia's clear gaze was on the deep eyes of Levine. What she saw there she was too young to understand, but she answered gravely,
"All right, Mr. Levine."
John sank back in his chair and passed his plate for a waffle.
"I'll make my interest and payments to you then, thank the Lord!" said
Amos.
"We'll make them on time just as usual," remarked Lydia, in a voice that had both reproof and warning in it. "Ain't debts perfectly awful," she sighed.
"So Marshall's worried," repeated John, complacently, when they were gathered round the stove. "Well, it behooves him to be. I don't know what he'll do when the Indians are gone."
"Mr. Levine," asked Lydia, "where'll the Indians go?"