The only trouble that there was in carrying out her scheme was in regard to the regulation of the crowds of people who flocked from every quarter to see Mrs. Wingfield respond to the challenge that her husband had accepted on her behalf. The local police were quite unequal to the duty of marshalling the crowd. Volunteer stewards had to assist them to prevent the hall being rushed. But in spite of all their exertions the doors had to be closed several times during the afternoon. At the dinner hour of the working population the whole street was packed with interested young women and still more interested young men, and the sound of their cheering was as continuous as the firing of a battery of machine guns. “What chance have I against that kind of thing, Forrester?” enquired Jack’s opponent of the manager of Mr. Wingfield’s party. “I suppose this is another of your clever tricks” he added, “I should be proud to be able to father it, but I am not,” said Mr. Forrester. “You mean to say that you did not arrange for that challenge?” “I do indeed. It was sprung on us--the whole thing was sprung on us. I give you my word for it. The fellow sang out some rot from the gallery, and while they were calling to put him out, Mrs. Wingfield saw her chance. She put Wingfield up to it, and he only did what she told him. I didn’t know where I was standing when I heard him accept the challenge; but in a minute or two I saw what could be made of it.” “Butter! I don’t know what we are coming to in England when the grave issues of an election contest are decided in this way--I really don’t.” “I’m not sure that that young woman hasn’t inaugurated, a new state of things. Speech-making is played out as an election force.” “And butter-making is to take its place! Why not have a milking match between the candidates to decide which of them should be returned? Mrs. Wingfield is a clever young woman, and her husband’s a lucky man. We all thought him a bit of a juggins.” “So he was; but she has made a man of him.” “She has made a member of Parliament of him,” said Jack’s opponent; and whatever enthusiasm he may have felt at the thought, he managed to prevent it from being noticed in his voice. He spoke the truth. Mrs. Wingfield’s husband was returned as the Parliamentary representative of the Nuttingford division of Nethershire by a majority of eleven hundred and sixty-one votes. When the enthusiastic electors and non-electors--the latter are invariably the more enthusiastic--blocked the street in front of the hotel and shouted for Mrs. Wingfield, that lady appeared on the balcony, but after a long interval. Everyone saw that she was smiling, but only those people who were close to her saw that her smile was that of a woman who has wept and is still weeping. CHAPTER XXV