"I believe it would be a good idea to arm ourselves against bad luck," she replied, gently moving aside the clover heads with her crop.
"You believe in four-leaf clover, then?"
She nodded.
"I do. I also am very careful," he added, "to catch the money-patches on my coffee."
She laughed. After all, there was something old-fashioned about this man. "And I never think of plucking a five-leaf. That's bad luck."
"The worst kind of bad luck. I remember, when I was a kid, I never played hooky without first hunting up my four-leaved amulet. If I got a licking when I returned home, why, I consoled myself with the thought, that it might have been ten times worse but for the four-leaf."
They moved about, looking here and there, while the horses buried their noses in the wet grass and threatened never to return to the road again. After a diligent search Patty found a beautiful four-leaf clover. She exhibited it in triumph.
"You've better luck than I," said Warrington. "We shall have to go on without my finding one."
"You may have this one," she replied; "and I hope it will bring you all sorts of good luck."
He took out his card-case and made room for the little amulet.