But Aunt Abby carried her point with the others. Uncle Jud consented very reluctantly, Aunt Mandy also yielded after much more persuasion, and when Aunt Abby's visit terminated, poor Chip's few belongings were packed in a new telescope case; she kissed Aunt Mandy, unable to speak, and this tearful parting was repeated at the station with Uncle Jud. When the train had vanished he wiped his eyes on his coat sleeves, climbed into his old carryall, and drove away disconsolate. "Curis, curis, how a gal like that 'un'll work her way into a man's feelin's," he said to himself. "It ain't been three months since I picked her up, 'n' now her goin' away seems like pullin' my heart out." CHAPTER XXVIII Christmas Cove had entered its autumn lethargy when Aunt Abby Bemis and her new protegee reached it. Captain 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, and Chip was soon installed in a somewhat bare room overlooking the cove. Everything seemed slightly chilly to her here. This room, with its four-poster bed, blue-painted chairs, light blue shades, and dark blue straw matting, the leafless 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 affection for this "book-larned" Aunt Abby, who had already begun to reprove her for lapses of speech. It 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 people seemed as chilly as the room to which she was consigned. When Sunday came--a sunless one with leaden sky and cold wind bearing the ocean's moaning--Chip felt herself back at Greenvale with its Sundays, for now she was stared at the moment she entered the church. The singing was, of course, of the same solemn character, the minister's prayers even longer, and the preaching as incomprehensible as in Greenvale. To Chip, doubtless a heretic who needed regeneration, it seemed a melancholy and solemn performance. The sermon (on predestination, with a finale which was a description of the resurrection day) made her feel creepy, and when the white-robed procession rising from countless graves was touched upon, and a pause came when she could hear the ocean's distant moan once more, it seemed that spites were creeping and crawling all about that dim room. With her advent at school Monday came something of the same trouble first met at Greenvale, for the master, a weazen, dried-up little old man, who wore a wig and seemed to exude rules and discipline, lacked the kindly interest of Miss Phinney.