Well , I 'm not going to moon out here in the dew any longer . I 'm going in to read the smartest , frilliest , frothiest society novel in my trunk . '' In the week that followed Nancy enjoyed herself after her own fashion . She read and swung in the garden , having a hammock hung under the firs . She went far afield , in rambles to woods and lonely uplands . `` I like it much better than meeting people , '' she said , when Louisa suggested going to see this one and that one , `` especially the Avonlea people . All my old chums are gone , or hopelessly married and changed , and the young set who have come up know not Joseph , and make me feel uncomfortably middle-aged . It 's far worse to feel middle-aged than old , you know . Away there in the woods I feel as eternally young as Nature herself . And oh , it 's so nice not having to fuss with thermometers and temperatures and other people 's whims . Let me indulge my own whims , Louisa dear , and punish me with a cold bite when I come in late for meals . I 'm not even going to church again . It was horrible there yesterday . The church is so offensively spick-and-span brand new and modern . '' `` It 's thought to be the prettiest church in these parts , '' protested Louisa , a little sorely . `` Churches should n't be pretty -- they should at least be fifty years old and mellowed into beauty . New churches are an abomination . '' `` Did you see Peter Wright in church ? '' asked Louisa . She had been bursting to ask it .
XXXXX nodded .
Avonlea Joseph Louisa Nancy Wright abomination chums firs frilliest old