The world into which young Stewart had gone, and by which he was being formed, was so foreign to the only world known to Sammy, that, while she realized in a dim way that he was undergoing a transformation, she still saw him in her mind as the backwoods boy.

With the announcement of his return, and the thought that she would soon meet him face to face, it burst upon her suddenly that her lover was a stranger.
The man who wrote this letter was not the man whom she had promised to marry.

Who was he?
Passing the mill and the blacksmith shop, the brown pony with his absorbed rider began to climb the steep road to the Matthews place.

Half way up the hill, the little horse, stepping on a loose stone, stumbled, catching himself quickly.
As a flash of lightning on a black night reveals well known landmarks and familiar objects, this incident brought back to Sammy the evening when, with Ollie and Young Matt, she had climbed the same way; when her horse had stumbled and her face had come close to the face of the big fellow whose hand was on the pony's neck.

The whole scene came before her with a vividness that was startling; every word, every look, every gesture of the two young men, her own thoughts and words, the objects along the road, the very motion of her horse; she seemed to be actually living again those moments of the past.