Joan was upon her feet, and running toward him with a cry of joy, until she
remembered that he was not to be approached like her mother. There were
never any bear-hugs from him, no caresses, not much laughter. She stopped
barely in time, and stood with her fingers interlaced, staring up at him,
half delighted, half afraid. She read his mind by microscopic changes in
his eyes and lips.
"Munner sent me."
That was wrong, she saw at once.
"And Bart brought me." Much better, now. "And oh, Daddy Dan, I've been
lonesome for you!"
He continued to stare at her for another moment, and even Joan could not
tell whether be were angry or indifferent or pleased.
"Well," he murmured at length, "I guess you're hungry, Joan?"
She knew it was complete acceptance, and she could hardly keep from a shout
of happiness. Daddy Dan had a great aversion to sudden outcries.
"I guess I am," said Joan.
Chapter XX. Discipline
He made the preparation for supper with such easy speed that everything
seemed to be done by magic hands. When Joan's mother cooked supper there
was always much rattling of the stove, then the building of the fire, a
long preparation of food, and another interval when things steamed and
sizzled on the fire.
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