Somebody in a confectionery store noticed the girls.
"Mamma, I do believe that's my old belt that I threw in the rags one day, for there's the cross I made on it at school with ink."
"Nonsense," said the lady.
"And, oh, mamma, look at the poor dog!"
Of all the people who were passing four at least were interested in Whitey. Alley and avenue—but the alley folks first forgot him. They went back to their diamonds.
Whitey's troubles had made him meek and humble. He did not at this time expect anything and he was out of hopes and plans. He did not observe any whisperings at the portals of the big store nor see the wonder on the face of the porter. What he did see presently was a round pasteboard box that the porter set down under his very nose. It was torn a little at one side and what was in the box began to melt and run down to the pavement.
Whitey moved his ears a little at the sight. It actually looked eatable. He doubted if it was, but he put out his tongue and touched it.
When Lizzie and Mattie turned again they stood amazed. People were looking amused as they passed and many a heart was made glad and light. One could read it in their faces. An unusual kindness is a love-flash that makes life sweeter to all who get it in their eyes.
"I'll bet there's a quart there," said Mattie.
"No, there ain't nuther. I guess a sick dog couldn't eat a hull quart of ice cream—it's jest a pint."