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 to it , Hester turned in at the gate . Then , for the first time , I understood why she had come back , and a blinding flash of joy broke over my soul . I stopped and looked at her . Her deep eyes gazed into mine , but she did not speak . We went on . Hugh 's house lay before us in the moonlight , grown over by a tangle of vines .
His garden was on our right , a quaint spot , full of old-fashioned flowers growing in a sort XXXXX disorderly sweetness .
around as at before in of on over through with