Lydia chuckled. "It's pretty bad," she admitted, then she went on soberly, "but I won't take those Indian lands."
"You can give them to me," reiterated Kent, cheerfully.
"She'll keep them," said Amos, shortly, "or Lydia and I'll have our first real row."
"Well, save up the fight till the estate's settled," said Kent, soothingly. "And then you'll know what you're fighting about. That will take some months."
Lydia sighed with relief. And again Kent laughed. "Oh, Lyd! You haven't any idea how funny you are! Come to, old lady! This is the twentieth century! And twentieth century business ethics don't belong to town meeting days. The best fellow gets the boodle!"
"Then Dave Marshall is the best fellow in our community, I suppose," said Lydia.
"Oh, Gee, Lyd! After all, he's Margery's father!"
Lydia looked at Kent thoughtfully. Since the day under the willows, he had not made love to her, yet she had the feeling that Kent was devoted to her and she wondered sometimes why he liked to spend as much time with Margery as with herself. Then she gave herself a mental shake.
"I'm going to tell you right now, that until I have to I'm not going to worry. I'm going to try to be happy in my senior year."