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And you and Kent would come to blows." "We probably would," replied Billy. "Want my hanky or haven't you wept yours full yet?" "I'm not going to cry any more," said Lydia, raising her head. Billy still held her warmly in the circle of his arm. The stable was dim and quiet and fragrant with clover. "You're such a comfort, Billy. Now that John Levine's gone, there's no one understands me as you do.
"Nature is neither cruel nor sad. She is only purposeful, tending to an end we cannot see." The Murmuring Pine. The days flew lightly by, lightly for Lydia, too, in spite of the heavy secret she carried of Levine's plotting. Lightly, in spite of the fact that Lydia was undergoing some soul-changing experiences in this short holiday, experiences that were to direct her life's course.
"She's fat and snores and won't have the window open but " "But what?" Levine's voice was gentle. "I'm afraid to sleep alone." "Afraid? Lydia not of any memory of dear little Patience!" "No! No! but I have nightmares nearly every night she she's choking and I I can't help her. Then I wake up and catch hold of Lizzie. Oh, don't make me sleep alone!"
I I feel as if I were finishing out John Levine's life for him doing what he ought to have done." "I wonder if you have any idea what you mean to me!" Willis suddenly burst forth. "You embody for me all the things my puritan grandmothers stood for. By Jove, if the New England men have failed, perhaps the Western women will renew their spirit." Lydia flushed.
This was not true, for indeed Keekie Joe did not sleep in a bed at all; he slept on a heap of old inner tubes in Ike Levine's tire repair shop. He was about to resent this slander from Pee-wee with a glowering look and a threat, when suddenly something happened, which precipitately terminated his performance of his official functions.
Distant cousins in Vermont would be his heirs, if indeed after his estate was settled, it was found that there was left anything to inherit. Kent for a month or so after the tragedy was extremely busy helping to disentangle Levine's complicated real estate holdings.
Suddenly Lydia realized how gray and broken he looked, how bent his shoulders were with work, and there swept over her anew an understanding of his utter loneliness since her mother's and Levine's death. With a little inarticulate murmur, she ran across the room and threw her arms about his neck. "Oh, Daddy," she cried, "I'll do it! I'll agree to it! If only you'll promise me to be happy!"
To her father's secret amusement, she found the main details of Levine's battle as interesting as a novel. Every evening when he got home to supper he found her poring over the two local papers and primed with questions for him.
"Well," Lydia fanned herself with her hat, thoughtfully, "for years people have been telling me awful things Mr. Levine's done to Indians and I worried and worried over it. And finally, I decided to take Mr. Levine for the dear side he shows me and to stop thinking about the Indians."
I'm going to make a farm up there, that will blot out all memory of what Mr. Levine did. But I'm going to work for it as a homesteader has to and not take any advantage through Mr. Levine's graft." Kent looked up crossly. "Oh, Lydia, for heaven's sake, don't begin that again!" Lydia crossed the room and put her hand on Kent's shoulder as he sat on the couch.
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