Chapter: My greatest anxiety now was to obtain employment. My health was greatly
improved, though my limbs continued to trouble me with swelling whenever I
walked much. The greatest difficulty in my way was, that those who employed
strangers required a recommendation; and in my peculiar position, I could,
          of course, obtain no certificates from the families I had so faithfully
          served.

          One day an acquaintance told me of a lady who wanted a nurse for her babe,
          and I immediately applied for the situation. The lady told me she preferred
          to have one who had been a mother, and accustomed to the care of infants. I
          told her I had nursed two babes of my own. She asked me many questions,
          but, to my great relief, did not require a recommendation from my former
          employers. She told me she was an English woman, and that was a pleasant
          circumstance to me, because I had heard they had less prejudice against
          color than Americans entertained. It was agreed that we should try each
          other for a week. The trial proved satisfactory to both parties, and I was
          engaged for a month.

          The heavenly Father had been most merciful to me in leading me to this
          place. Mrs. Bruce was a kind and gentle lady, and proved a true and
          sympathizing friend. Before the stipulated month expired, the necessity of
          passing up and down stairs frequently, caused my limbs to swell so
          painfully, that I became unable to perform my duties. Many ladies would
          have thoughtlessly discharged me; but Mrs. Bruce made arrangements to save
          me steps, and employed a physician to attend upon me. I had not yet told
          her that I was a fugitive slave. She noticed that I was often sad, and
          kindly inquired the cause. I spoke of being separated from my children, and
          from relatives who were dear to me; but I did not mention the constant
          feeling of insecurity which oppressed my spirits. I longed for some one to
          confide it; but I had been so deceived by white people, that I had lost all
          confidence in them. If they spoke kind words to me, I thought it was for
          some selfish purpose. I had entered this family with the distrustful
          feelings I had brought with me out of slavery; but ere six months had
          passed, I found that the gentle deportment of Mrs. Bruce and the smiles of
          her lovely babe were thawing my chilled heart. My narrow mind also began to
          expand under the influences of her intelligent conversation, and the
          opportunities for reading, which were gladly allowed me whenever I had
          leisure from my duties. I gradually became more energetic and more
          cheerful.

          The old feeling of insecurity, especially with regard to my children, often
          threw its dark shadow across my sunshine. Mrs. Bruce offered me a home for
          Ellen; but pleasant as it would have been, I did not dare to accept it, for
          fear of offending the Hobbs family. Their knowledge of my precarious
          situation placed me in their power; and I felt that it was important for me
          to keep on the right side of them, till, by dint of labor and economy, I
          could make a home for my children. I was far from feeling satisfied with
          Ellen's situation. She was not well cared for. She sometimes came to New
          York to visit me; but she generally brought a request from Mrs. Hobbs that
          I would buy her a pair of shoes, or some article of clothing. This was
          accompanied by a promise of payment when Mr. Hobbs's salary at the Custom
          House became due; but some how or other the pay-day never came. Thus many
          dollars of my earnings were expended to keep my child comfortably clothed.
          That, however, was a slight trouble, compared with the fear that their
          pecuniary embarrassments might induce them to sell my precious young
          daughter. I knew they were in constant communication with Southerners, and
          had frequent opportunities to do it. I have stated that when Dr. Flint put
          Ellen in jail, at two years old, she had an inflammation of the eyes,
          occasioned by measles. This disease still troubled her; and kind Mrs. Bruce
          proposed that she should come to New York for a while, to be under the care
          of Dr. Elliott, a well known oculist. It did not occur to me that there was
          any thing improper in a mother's making such a request; but Mrs. Hobbs was
          very angry, and refused to let her go. Situated as I was, it was not
          politic to insist upon it. I made no complaint, but I longed to be entirely
          free to act a mother's part towards my children. The next time I went over
          to Brooklyn, Mrs. Hobbs, as if to apologize for her anger, told me she had
          employed her own physician to attend to Ellen's eyes, and that she had
          refused my request because she did not consider it safe to trust her in New
          York. I accepted the explanation in silence; but she had told me that my
          child _belonged_ to her daughter, and I suspected that her real motive was
          a fear of my conveying her property away from her. Perhaps I did her
          injustice; but my knowledge of Southerners made it difficult for me to feel
          otherwise.

          Sweet and bitter were mixed in the cup of my life, and I was thankful that
          it had ceased to be entirely bitter. I loved Mrs. Bruce's babe. When it
          laughed and crowed in my face, and twined its little tender arms
          confidingly about my neck, it made me think of the time when Benny and
          Ellen were babies, and my wounded heart was soothed. One bright morning, as
          I stood at the window, tossing baby in my arms, my attention was attracted
          by a young man in sailor's dress, who was closely observing every house as
          he passed. I looked at him earnestly. Could it be my brother William? It
          _must_ be he--and yet, how changed! I placed the baby safely, flew down
          stairs, opened the front door, beckoned to the sailor, and in less than a
          minute I was clasped in my brother's arms. How much we had to tell each
          other! How we laughed, and how we cried, over each other's adventures! I
          took him to Brooklyn, and again saw him with Ellen, the dear child whom he
          had loved and tended so carefully, while I was shut up in my miserable den.
          He staid in New York a week. His old feelings of affection for me and Ellen
          were as lively as ever. There are no bonds so strong as those which are
          formed by suffering together.

 Linda searches for work, but finds job hunting difficult, because potential employers require recommendations that she, as a fugitive, is unable to provide. Finally she meets Mrs. Bruce, a kindly English woman, who hires her as a nurse for her baby, Mary. Mrs. Bruce is a "true and sympathizing friend" to Linda. When Linda is unable to perform her duties because constant stair climbing causes her legs to swell, Mrs. Bruce brings in her personal physician to attend to Linda. Mrs. Bruce also offers Linda the opportunity to bring Ellen to live with her, but Linda declines her offer for fear of offending Mrs. Hobbs. Mrs. Bruce also offers to have her personal physician, Dr. Elliot, attend to Ellen, who is still experiencing problems with her eyes, a condition related to a bout of measles at age two. But when Linda asks Mrs. Hobbs' permission for Ellen to see Dr. Elliot, she refuses. Later, she informs Linda that she has employed her own doctor to attend to Ellen. Meanwhile, Linda, who is using her meager earnings to help provide for Ellen, grows increasingly anxious about her daughter's future. The chapter ends brightly, because William, Linda's brother arrives in New York -- dressed in sailor attire -- and reunites with Linda and Ellen. The three easily re-establish the bonds among them, "There are no bonds so strong as those which are formed by suffering together."

