Strangle it at birth, dear Louisa. There is no use in your trying
to make up a match between Peter and me now--no, nor in slyly
inviting him up here to tea some evening, as you are even this
moment thinking of doing."
"Well, I must go and milk the cows," gasped Louisa, rather glad to make
her escape. Nancy's power of thought-reading struck her as uncanny.
She felt afraid to remain with her cousin any longer, lest Nancy should
drag to light all the secrets of her being.
Nancy sat long on the steps after Louisa had gone--sat until
the night came down, darkly and sweetly, over the garden,
and the stars twinkled out above the firs. This had been her home
in girlhood. Here she had lived and kept house for her father.
When he died, Curtis Shaw, newly married to her cousin Louisa,
bought the farm from her and moved in. Nancy stayed
on with them, expecting soon to go to a home of her own.
She and Peter Wright were engaged.
Then came their mysterious quarrel, concerning the cause of which
kith and kin on both sides were left in annoying ignorance.
Of the results they were not ignorant. Nancy promptly
packed up and left Avonlea seven hundred miles behind her.
She went to a hospital in Montreal and studied nursing.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297