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 seemed, had long been fastened upon Peggotty. He took her to a nice little home, and there she showed me a room which she said would be mine whenever I chose to occupy it. I felt the constancy of my dear old nurse, and thanked her as well as I could, but the next day I was obliged to go back to the Murdstones. Peggotty made the journey with me, and no words can express my forlorn and desolate feelings when the cart took her away again, and I was left alone in the place where I used to be so happy. And now I fell into a state of neglect, apart from other boys of my own age, and apart from all friendly faces. What would I not have given to have been sent to school! I think Mr. Murdstone's means were straightened at that time, and there was no mention of Salem House or of any other school. I was not beaten or starved, only coldly neglected. Peggotty I was seldom allowed to visit, but once a week she either came to see me or met me somewhere, and that, and the dear old books were my only comfort.