ery had left his lips.

"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.

"It is impossible not to be fortunate now," he said, with a gravity
that was not assumed.

She looked at him dubiously. No, there was no laughter in his eyes; he
was perfectly serious.

They walked the horses over a small hill, then mounted. It was a very
pleasant morning for Warrington. It had been years since he had talked
to a young woman who was witty and unworldly. He had to readjust
himself. He had written down that all witty women were worldly, but
that all worldly women were not witty. But to be witty and
unsophisticated was altogether out of his calculations.

At the Country Club they stabled the horses and wandered about the
golf links. Luncheon was served on the veranda; and presently
Warrington found himself confiding in this young girl as if he had
known her intimately all his life. The girl felt a thrill of
exultation. It flattered her young vanity to hear this celebrity
telling her about his ambitions.

"Everything becomes monotonous after a while," he said. "And I have
just begun to grow weary of living alone. Day after day, the same
faces, the same places, the same arguments, the same work. I've grown
tired. I want to live like other human beings. Monotony leads very
quickly into folly, and I conf