She sprang to her feet and put an arm about him and pushed him gently into his chair.
"Poor old Dad!" she said softly. "You've had a pretty rough time of it, haven't you? I—we're so sorry, dear."
CHAPTER VI
A SCOUNDREL
If anything could break through her father's state of dazed misery, Jo Morley's sympathy was that thing.
Mr. Morley sank into his chair at the table and buried his tired face in his hands.
"You're a good girl, Jo," he said, and, reaching up, patted the hand that rested on his shoulder. "I'm a little tired, that's all. I'll be better after I've had something to eat."
Catching Jo's eye, Mrs. Morley gestured to her and the girl slipped noiselessly into her seat.
They unostentatiously served the meal, chatting pleasantly the while until Mr. Morley raised his head and looked about him with more animation.
Jo, seeing that her chatter lightened the general gloom, entered into a whimsical account of the afternoon's doing that appeared to interest her father.