‘Why, of course, Nursey,’ she answered, with assumed playfulness. ‘Did you think I was going to leave my old darkey behind? What should I do without you? You shall come to Government House as soon as I am settled there, and dress me in the mornings, as you have always been used to do; and perhaps some day you may nurse my little children as you nursed me. Will that content you, Jessica?’ she added, with trembling lips that ill-concealed her anxiety. ‘And missy will raise my wages?’ demanded the negress; ‘Governor’s lady give better wages than planter’s daughter, and I hab worked for eighteen long years in your service, Missy Quita.’ ‘Yes, yes! You shall have any wages you like, Jessica. I shall tell Sir Russell what a good servant you have been to me, and he will be proud to reward you. But perhaps you would rather have a pension,’ said Quita wistfully, ‘or a lump sum of money, that will enable you to go back to your own country, and live there.’ ‘No, missy; I rather live and die with you. You seem like my own child to me, and San Diego like my country. I no want go way; and if missy good to me, I keep her secrets always, and no one shall hear ole Jess tell de truth about her.’ Maraquita felt this was only a compromise, but she had no alternative but to accept it. There was a hard, stony look in old Jessica’s eyes that alarmed her, and made her doubt her promises of fidelity. She was not slow to perceive, either, the mercenary motive of her demand for higher wages, but she could not afford to comment on it. She had put herself in the power of another woman--the most terrible bondage the sex is ever subjected to--and she saw no way to loosen her chains, except by perfect acquiescence. But she loathed the old negress, even while she forced herself to caress her. The affection of her whole life seemed to have faded beneath the ordeal to which it had been subjected. Jessica was no longer the kind and faithful nurse who had tended her from her infancy, and to whom she had run in every dilemma, but a hard and grasping creditor, who had possession of that which might ruin her life, and demanded her very blood in ransom. However, there seemed no way but one out of the scrape, and so Maraquita promised to do all and everything that the negress might require, and tried to soothe her ruffled feelings with soft words and caresses. But she did not feel sure that she had succeeded, even though Jessica paid her some honied compliments in return, and lay down in her bed that night longing more than ever that the wedding-day had come and gone.