And , to her , Chester was her baby still . He belonged solely to her . And now another woman had dared to look upon him with eyes of love . Damaris Garland ! Thyra now remembered seeing her . She was a new-comer in Avonlea , having come to live with her uncle and aunt after the death of her mother . Thyra had met her on the bridge one day a month previously . Yes , a man might think she was pretty -- a low-browed girl , with a wave of reddish-gold hair , and crimson lips blossoming out against the strange , milk-whiteness of her skin . Her eyes , too -- Thyra recalled them -- hazel in tint , deep , and laughter-brimmed . The girl had gone past her with a smile that brought out many dimples . There was a certain insolent quality in her beauty , as if it flaunted itself somewhat too defiantly in the beholder 's eye . Thyra had turned and looked after the lithe , young creature , wondering who she might be . And to-night , while she , his mother , waited for him in darkness and loneliness , he was down at Blair 's , talking to this girl ! He loved her ; and it was past doubt that she loved him . The thought was more bitter than death to Thyra . That she should dare ! Her anger was all against the girl . She had laid a snare to get Chester and he , like a fool , was entangled in it , thinking , man-fashion , only of her great eyes and red lips . Thyra thought savagely of Damaris ' beauty . `` She shall not have him , '' she said , with slow emphasis .
`` I will never give him up to any other woman , and , least XXXXX all , to her .
That after against at in like of on while with