hat his whole career has been the worst case of sheer, downright
luck of which I ever saw or heard."

"Luck!" exclaimed Dorothy.

"Yes, luck!" said Lispenard. "Look at it. He starts in like all the rest
of us. And Miss Luck calls him in to look at a sick kitten die. Very
ordinary occurrence that! Health-board report several hundred every
week. But Miss Luck knew what she was about and called him in to just
the right kind of a kitten to make a big speech about. Thereupon he
makes it, blackguarding and wiping the floor up with a millionaire
brewer. Does the brewer wait for his turn to get even with him? Not a
bit. Miss Luck takes a hand in and the brewer falls on Peter's
breast-bone, and loves him ever afterwards. My cousin writes him, and he
snubs her. Does she annihilate him as she would have other men? No. Miss
Luck has arranged all that, and they become the best of friends."

"Lispenard--" Miss De Voe started to interrupt indignantly, but
Lispenard continued, "Hold on till I finish. One at a time. Well. Miss
Luck gets him chosen to a convention by a fluke and Peter votes against
Costell's wishes. What happens? Costell promptly takes him up and pushes
him for all he's worth. He snubs society, and society concludes that a
man who is more snubby and exclusive than itself must be a man to
cultivate. He refuses to talk, and every one promptly says: 'How
interesting he is!' He gets in the way of a dynamite bomb. Does it kill
him? Certainly not. Miss Luck has put an old fool there, to protect him.
He swears a bad word. Does it shock respectable people? No! Every one
breathes easier, and likes him the better. He enrages and shoots the
strikers. Does he lose votes? Not one. Miss Luck arranges that the
directors shall yield things which they had sworn not to yield; and the
strikers are reconciled and print a card in praise of him. He runs for
office. Do the other parties make a good fight of it? No. They promptly
nominate a scoundrelly demagogue and a nonentity who thinks votes are
won by going about in shirtsleeves. So he is elected by the biggest
plurality the State has ever given. Has Miss Luck done enough? No. She
at once sets every one predicting that he'll get the presidential
nomination two years from now, if he cares for it. Be it friend or
enemy, intentional or unintentional, every one with whom he comes in
contact gives him a boost. While look at me! There isn't a soul who ever
gave me help. It's been pure, fire-wit