vacation. I was not
sorry to go. I had lapsed into a stupid state; but I was recovering a
little and looking foward to Steerforth. I kissed my mother, and had
climbed into the carrier's cart when I heard her calling me. I looked
back, and she stood at the garden-gate, looking intently at me.

So I lost her. So I saw her afterwards, in my sleep at school,--a silent
presence near my bed--looking at me with the same intent face,--and the
vision is still a constant blessing to me.

From then I pass over all that happened at Salem House until my birthday
in March. On the morning of that day I was summoned into Mr. Creakle's
august presence. Mrs. Creakle was in the room too, and somehow they broke
it to me that my mother was very ill. I knew all now!

"She is dead," they said.

There was no need to tell me so. I had already broken out into a desolate
cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world. If ever child were stricken
with sincere grief, I was. But I remember even so, that my sorrow was a
kind of satisfaction to me, when I walked in the playground, while the
boys were in school, and saw them glancing at me out of the windows, and
because of my grief I felt distinguished, and of vast importance. We had
no story-telling that night, and Traddles insisted on lending me his
pillow as a guarantee of his sympathy, which I understood and accepted.

I left Salem House upon noon the next day, stopping in Yarmouth to be
measured for my suit of black. Then all too soon I was at home again, only
it was home no longer, for my mother was not there. Mr. Murdstone, who was
weeping, took no notice of me. Miss Murdstone gave me her cold fingers,
and asked if I had been measured for my mourning, and if I had brought
home my shirts. There was no sign that they thought of my suffering,
and--alone--except for dear faithful Peggotty, I remained there,
motherless, and worse than fatherless, still stunned and giddy with the
shock. As soon as the funeral was over, Peggotty obtained permission to
take me home with her for a visit, and I was thankful for the change, even
though I knew that Peggotty was leaving the Rookery forever.

We found the old boat the same pleasant place as ever, only little Em'ly
and I seldom wandered on the beach now. She had tasks to learn, and
needlework to do. During the visit I had a great surprise, which was no
less than Peggotty's marriage to the carrier who had taken me on so many
trips, and whose affections it seem