Eleanor H. Porter

“ Sister Sue laughed and told the story of her interview with Mrs. Preston—a story which Martin Kent chuckled over and thoroughly appreciated.
"She's a character and no mistake," he nodded. "But I notice it was you who likened your work to peeling potatoes for that banquet."
"It was. I did." She smiled, but she sighed, too. "And it is peeling potatoes, Martin, and that kitchen is mighty stupid and lonesome when you can't help thinking all the time of the banquet-hall with all its light and laughter and music and excitement! You see, the children— Martin, they are awful. ”

“ Sister Sue herself should have become accustomed to this title by this time, for so in the habit was her family of speaking, not only to her, but of her, as "Sister Sue," that others fell naturally into the way of it also. Gilmoreville had always known her as "Sister Sue," for from babyhood May and Gordon had answered most questions with "I don't know. Sister Sue'll tell you. She knows." Gilmoreville now, therefore, was taking lessons of, not Miss Susanna Gilmore, but Sister Sue.
Martin Kent did not like Sister Sue's class in pianoforte playing. ”

“ But Sister Sue did not let her mind dwell on this. She would work, and work hard. She would procure all the pupils she could, and there were the schools in the autumn, besides.
In spite of her increasing number of pupils, Sister Sue always found time to see that her father was contented and well cared for. That he was so well physically made her burdens in this direction much lighter. Now that Martin Kent had come there was a new claimant for her time, one that refused to be denied and whom she did not wish to deny. ”