In the distance, at the top of the hill, sharply outlined against the sky, was a black angle of roof and a great chimney.

A thin column of smoke rose out of it, straight and dark.

That was where Charlotte Barnard lived.
Barnabas looked out and saw the smoke rising from the chimney of the Barnard house.

There was a little hollow in the field that was quite blue with violets, and he noted that absently.

A team passed on the road outside; it was as if he saw and heard everything from the innermost recesses of his own life, and everything seemed strange and far off.
He turned to go, but suddenly stood still in the middle of the kitchen, as if some one had stopped him.