Eleanor H. Porter

“ Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic understanding.
"I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make a home," she said.
"Eh?" The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
"Mr. Pendleton told me," nodded Pollyanna, again; "about the woman's hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean—if Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him."
Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
"So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home, does he?" ”

“ The doctor had turned back to his desk.
"Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh—and I forgot." Pollyanna's face showed suddenly a painful color. "I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we—we aren't going there to live. ”

“ Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; "ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer duty, Mr. Tom—they don't, they don't!"
"Is she hurt—bad?" The old man's voice shook.
"There ain't no tellin'," sobbed Nancy. "She lay back that white an' still she might easy be dead ”