Lydia, chin up, gaze never more clearly blue, nodded.
"Yes, Kent, but we never would have been happy. You and Margery were meant for each other, anyhow."
"Lydia! Lydia!" exclaimed Kent hoarsely, half angrily, half pleadingly.
"No, you won't feel badly, when you think it over. Go to Margery now and tell her, Kent."
Kent picked up his cap. "I—I don't understand," he said. Then, angrily, "You aren't treating me right, Lydia. I'll talk to you when I'm not so sore," and he walked out of the house.
Lydia turned to Amos and Lizzie. "There," she said, happily, "I've got
Kent settled for life!"
Amos sank into his armchair. "Lydia, have you lost your mind!" he groaned.
"No, I've found it, Daddy. Poor Dad, don't look as if you'd fathered a lunatic!"
Amos shook his head.
"Daddy, let's homestead that land! Let's quit this idea of getting something by graft. Let's do like our forefathers did. Let's homestead that land! Let's earn it by farming it."