We walked side by side down our lane , under the willows and out to the road , which lay long and still in that bright , calm moonshine . I felt as if I were in a dream , moving at the bidding of a will not my own , which I could not have disputed even if I had wished to do so . But I did not wish it ; I had only the feeling of a strange , boundless content . We went down the road between the growths of young fir that bordered it . I smelled their balsam as we passed , and noticed how clearly and darkly their pointed tops came out against the sky . I heard the tread of my own feet on little twigs and plants in our way , and the trail of my dress over the grass ; but Hester moved noiselessly . Then we went through the Avenue -- that stretch of road under the apple trees that Anne Shirley , over at Avonlea , calls `` The White Way of Delight . '' It was almost dark here ; and yet I could see Hester 's face just as plainly as if the moon were shining on it ; and whenever I looked at her she was always looking at me with that strangely gentle smile on her lips . Just as we passed out of the Avenue , James Trent overtook us , driving . It seems to me that our feelings at a given moment are seldom what we would expect them to be . I simply felt annoyed that James Trent , the most notorious gossip in Newbridge , should have seen me walking with Hester . In a flash I anticipated all the annoyance of it ; he would talk of the matter far and wide . But James Trent merely nodded and called out , `` Howdy , Miss Margaret . Taking a moonlight stroll by yourself ? Lovely night , ai n't it ? '' Just then his horse suddenly swerved , as if startled , and broke into a gallop . They whirled around the curve of the road in an instant . I felt relieved , but puzzled . JAMES TRENT HAD NOT SEEN HESTER . Down over the hill was Hugh Blair 's place .
When we came XXXXX it , Hester turned in at the gate .
In as between by down on over that through to