It was truly a strange thing that he and Mercy did not once meet during all these weeks.

It was no doubt an important element in the growth of their relation, this interval of unacknowledged and combated curiosity about each other.

Nature has a myriad of ways of bringing about her results.

Seed-time and harvest are constant, and the seasons all keep their routine; but no two fields have the same method or measure in the summer's or the winter's dealings.
Hearts lie fallow sometimes; and seeds of love swell very big in the ground, all undisturbed and unsuspected.
When Mercy and her mother drove up to the house, Stephen was standing at his mother's window.

It was just at dusk.
"Here they are, mother," he said.