Richmond planet. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1883-1938, 1908-06-13
CHAPTER XXI


Bemis. who never had no say bout
nothin'." but who had cooked his own
meals uncomplainingly for three
weeks, emerged white-dusted from the
mill TO greet the arrivals, aud Chip
was soon installed IN somewhat bare
room overlooking the cove. Everything
seemed slightly chilly TO her here.
This room. with its four-posted bed.
blue painted chairs. light blue shades.
and dark blue straw mating. the leaf
less elms in front, the breeze that
swept in from the sea, and even her
reception. seemed cool. Her heart
was not in it, Try as she would. she
could not yet feel one spark OF af-
lection for this book larned" Aunt
Abby, who had already begun TO re-
prove her for lapses OF speech. IL
was all so different from the home
life she had just left: and as Chip
had now begun TO notice and feel
trifles the relations OF the PEG
pie seemed chilly as the room 10
which she was consigned.
When Sunday came--a sunless one
with leaden sky and cold wind bear
ing the oceans mosuing-Chip felt
herself back at Greenvaie with its
Sundays. for now she was stared at
the moment she entered the church
The singing was. OF course. OF the
same soSemn character, the minister's
prayers even longer. and the preach
ing as incomprehensible as In Green
vale.
With her advent az school Monday
came something OF the same trouble
met az Greendale, for the master. a
weazen. dried-up little old man. who
wore n wig and seemed 10 eXude
rules and discipline. lacked the kindly
Interest Of Miss Phinny.
Chip. almost a mature young lady
was aligned with girls and boys OF
10 and u. and once more the same
shame and humiliation had be en-
dured II wore away In time. how
ever. for she had made almost mar
velous progress under Miss Phinney
Her mind was keen and quick. and
once az study again, she astonished
MT Bell. the master.
Something Of her old fearless self
reliance now came 20 her aid. also
II had made her dare 60 miles OF will
derness alone and helpless. Il had
spurred her 20 escape Greenvale and
her sense OF being a dependent pau
per. and now that latent force for
good or IN stin nerved her.
But Christmas Cove did not suit
her. The sea that drew her ewes
with its vastness seemed 10 awe her.
The great house. brown and moss
coated where she lived, was barnlike.
and never quite warm enough The
long street she traversed four times
daily was bleak and wind-swept Aunt
Abby was austere and lacking in cor
diality; and Sundays-wen. SUNDAYS
were Chips one chief abhorrence
Another influence - an insidious
heart hunger she could not put away
now added 10 her loneliness in the
new life. Ii carried her thoughts back
10 the rippled. moonut lake. where
Ray had picked his banjo and sung
90 her; even back 10 that first night
10y the campfire when she had watch
ed and listened TO him in rapt ad-
mivation. IL thrilled her as naucht
else could when she recalled the few
moments at the lake men. unconscious
OF the need OF restraint, she had let
him oaress her.
Then the long days OF watching for
his return were lived over, and the
one almost ecstatic moment when he
had leaped from the stage and over
the wall, with no one in sight, while
he held her in his arms
And then-and this hurt the most
that last evening before they were to
part again. when beside the frehy-lit
mill pond he had the chance to say
so much and said-nothingi
1t was all a bittersweet memory,
which she tried to put away forever
the night she left Greenvale. She
was now Vera Raymond. No one
could trace her; and yet, so at odds
were her viii and her heart, there
still fingered the faint hope that Ray
would sometime and homehow find
her out
And so, studying faithfully. often
lonesome, now and then longing for
the bygone days with Ray and Old
Cy, and always hoping that she might
some time return TO Peaceful Valley.
Chip passed the winter at Christmas
Cove.
f4Something of success came TO her
through 1t all She reached and re-
tanned head positions in her classes.
. A word or praise came occasionally
from Mr.. Bell. Aunt Abby grew less
austere and seemed to have a little
pride In her. She became acquainted
with other people and in touch with
young folks, was invited to parties
and slei gh-rides. The vernacular OF
Tins Place left her, and even sun
days were less a torture. in fact, al
most a pleasure. for then she saw
most of the young people she mingled
with. and now and then exchanged a
Dit OF gossip.