This was said gravely and was much cheered. As the cheering went on, a smile gradually bent the speaker's broad expressive mouth; the crowded benches became silent, waiting the fulfilment of the smile's promise. A roguish look came into Quisante's face, he glanced at his audience, then at his friends on the platform, lastly at his wife who sat on the other side of the chairman's table. He spoke lower than was his wont, colloquially, almost carelessly, with an amused intonation. "At any rate," he said, "I trust that Henstead may once more be thought worthy of the presence of----" He paused, spread out his hands, and sank his voice in mock humility--"of other ladies besides--my wife." It was well done. May's ready laugh was but the first of a chorus, and Quisante, sitting down, knew that his shaft had sped home when somebody cried, "Three cheers for Lady May Quisante!" and they gave them again and again, all standing on their feet. Alas for the Dean! For some men there are many ways out of a corner. CHAPTER XIII. NOT SUPERHUMAN. "I don't set up for being superhuman," said Alexander Quisante with a shrug and a smile at his sister-in-law, "and I should very soon be told of my mistake if I did. I had nothing to do with putting the story about. I never countenanced it in any way. But since it got about, since Mildmay chose to give himself airs and make a fool of himself, and then come to me to get him out of his trouble, I thought myself entitled to give him one little dig." "Of course you were," agreed Fanny. "And if they choose to decide the election on that instead of on the Government policy, why, in the first place we can't help it, and in the second we needn't talk about it." He paused and then added with greater gravity, "I have nothing to reproach myself with in the matter." "What's Mr. Williams going to do?" "Oh, he made one solemn protest and now, at my request, he'll hold his tongue." "He's done all the mischief, though," said Jimmy Benyon with much satisfaction. It was true enough, and the triumph at the Bull equalled the depression at Moors End, where the Dean was aghast at the result of his diplomacy, and Sir Winterton began to perceive that he had vindicated his honour at the cost of his good sense, and his dignity at the price of his popularity. It was not Henstead's moral sense that was against him now, but that far more formidable enemy, Henstead's wounded vanity. The best judges refused to estimate how many votes that ride on the high horse was likely to cost him; but all agreed that the bill would be heavy; even Smiley, his own agent, shook a rueful head over the probable figure. And all this advantage had accrued to the Quisante faction without involving any reproach or any charge of unfair tactics; rather were they praised for moderation, magnanimity, and good-nature.