Everybody knew, and everybody spoke with respect and consideration, of "Old Mis' Carr," or, as she was perhaps more often called, "Widder Carr." Mercy had not thought--in her utter inexperience of change, it could not have occurred to her--what a very different thing it was to be simply unknown and poor people in a strange place.

The sense of all this smote upon her suddenly and keenly, as they jolted along in the noisy old carriage on this dark, rainy night.
Stephen White's indifferent though kindly manner first brought to her the thought, or rather the feeling, of this.

Each new glimmer of the home-lights deepened her sense of desolation.

Every gust of rain that beat on the carriage roof and windows made her feel more and more like an outcast.

She never forgot these moments.