The boy slipped behind the dog and smiled wistfully at the coffee urns.
“Naw,” he said, “I don’t want none.” But the hunger in his eyes was not to be denied by his brave little lips, and while Tavia and the boys made merry at the lunch counter, Dorothy quietly ordered coffee and sandwiches for the thin little boy. And he drank, and ate, every bit, insisting on sharing many mouthfuls with the yellow dog.
He stayed with the party, wandering up and down the banks of the lake, until they were ready to depart, and then he followed at a respectful distance as they walked across town to Riverside Drive. He had nothing else to do, and the lady with the fluffy hair was kind and good to look at, and as his whole life was spent on the streets, he carelessly followed along until they reached home. Turning, Dorothy saw him, and something in the little face went straight to her heart. He did not look at all like her own little brothers, there was only the small boy manliness about him that, somehow, reminded her of Joe, and smiling encouragement for him to follow, he did so, until the porter stopped him in the apartment hall.
“It’s all right,” said Dorothy, in a low voice, “he’s with us.”
“What are you going to do with him?” asked Tavia, as they piled on the elevator.
“Feed him all the things his little stomach has ever yearned for,” declared Dorothy. “I’ve seen so many of him about the streets, and now I’m going to try and make one happy, for just a day!”
The little thin boy being enthroned in the kitchenette with the yellow dog sprawled out on the floor, Dorothy returned to Tavia and the boys.
“Why did not I see that little boy?” asked Tavia, soberly.
“Because,” said Bob gently, “you were ministering to the enjoyment and success of the skating party.”
“Huh!” said Tavia, in disdain. “Dorothy is the most perfect darling! Who else would have looked about for someone to bestow kindnesses upon? I’m going right out to the little boy and—and help entertain him.” And in deep repentance Tavia strode out to the kitchenette, to make up to the thin boy whom she would have passed by if Dorothy had not been kind to him.