The people had all gone to bed.

I tried to think of some neighbor to whom my mother might have told her destination when she moved; but I could recall none of that sort.
She had been too unhappy, here in Tempe, to make friends.

So I sat there shivering until morning, unwilling to go away, altogether bewildered, quite at my wits' end, steeped in despair.

The world seemed too hard and tough for me.
In the morning I asked at every house if the people knew Mrs.Rucker, and where she had gone, but got no help.

One woman knew her, and had employed her as a seamstress; but had found the house vacant the last time she had sent her work.
"Is she a relative of yours ?" she asked.
"She is my--" I remember I stopped here and looked away a long time before I could finish the reply, "She is my mother." "And where were you, my poor boy," said she, "when she moved ?" "I was away at work," I replied.
"Well," said she, "she left word for you somewhere, you may be sure of that.