I see he has still his old trick of throwing his last beams over the Wright farmhouse . By the way , Louisa , is Peter Wright still living there ? '' `` Yes . '' Louisa threw a sudden interested glance at the apparently placid Nancy . `` Married , I suppose , with half a dozen children ? '' said Nancy indifferently , pulling up some more sprigs of mint and pinning them on her breast . Perhaps the exertion of leaning over to do it flushed her face . There was more than the Rogerson colour in it , anyhow , and Louisa , slow though her mental processes might be in some respects , thought she understood the meaning of a blush as well as the next one . All the instinct of the matchmaker flamed up in her . `` Indeed he is n't , '' she said promptly . `` Peter Wright has never married . He has been faithful to your memory , Nancy . '' `` Ugh ! You make me feel as if I were buried up there in the Avonlea cemetery and had a monument over me with a weeping willow carved on it , '' shivered Nancy . `` When it is said that a man has been faithful to a woman 's memory it generally means that he could n't get anyone else to take him . '' `` That is n't the case with Peter , '' protested Louisa . `` He is a good match , and many a woman would have been glad to take him , and would yet . He 's only forty-three . But he 's never taken the slightest interest in anyone since you threw him over , Nancy . '' `` But I did n't .
He threw me over , '' said Nancy , plaintively , looking afar over the low-lying fields and a feathery young spruce valley to the white buildings of the Wright farm , glowing rosily in the sunset light when all the rest of Avonlea was scarfing itself XXXXX shadows .
By as at in of on over than that to