"What makes you think Lord B—— is failing rapidly?" I asked.
"Why he says and does such uncommon things; for instance, being our landlord, my husband and I thought we could not do wrong in calling our last baby after him. We asked his permission, which he generously gave us, and said he would give the youngster a handsome present."
"Well?"
"A year elapsed, and we saw nothing of the promised gift. One day recently—he comes often here—he asked me which of the children was named Gerald, and when I pointed out baby to him on the floor, he pulled out a piece of glass—fancy a bit of glass—and put it into his fingers, saying something about its being a talisman against all the ills of life. What could he mean?"
"A little wrong," and I touched my forehead.
"Just what I thought."
"Is that the bit of glass?" I asked, taking up the glittering morsel, which was being thrown from one child to the other.
"It is; a shilling would have been of more use."
"The children shall not be disappointed. I will give them a shilling each for it."