`` Did you see Peter Wright in church ? '' asked Louisa . She had been bursting to ask it . Nancy nodded . `` Verily , yes . He sat right across from me in the corner pew . I did n't think him painfully changed . Iron-gray hair becomes him . But I was horribly disappointed in myself . I had expected to feel at least a romantic thrill , but all I felt was a comfortable interest , such as I might have taken in any old friend . Do my utmost , Louisa , I could n't compass a thrill . '' `` Did he come to speak to you ? '' asked Louisa , who had n't any idea what Nancy meant by her thrills . `` Alas , no . It was n't my fault . I stood at the door outside with the most amiable expression I could assume , but Peter merely sauntered away without a glance in my direction . It would be some comfort to my vanity if I could believe it was on account of rankling spite or pride . But the honest truth , dear Weezy , is that it looked to me exactly as if he never thought of it . He was more interested in talking about the hay crop with Oliver Sloane -- who , by the way , is more Oliver Sloaneish than ever . '' `` If you feel as you said you did the other night , why did n't you go and speak to him ? ''
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