Nothing happened to make her regret her choice. Socknersh proved, as she
had expected, a humble, hard-working creature, who never disputed her
orders, indeed who sometimes turned to her for direction and advice.
Stimulated by his deference, she became even more of an oracle than she
had hitherto professed. She looked up "The Sheep" in her father's
"Farmer's Encyclopædia" of the year 1861, and also read one or two more
books upon his shelves. From these she discovered that there was more in
sheep breeding than was covered by the lore of the Three Marshes, and
her mind began to plunge adventurously among Southdowns and Leicesters,
Black-faced, Blue-faced, and Cumberland sheep. She saw Ansdore famous as
a great sheep-breeding centre, with many thousands of pounds coming
annually to its mistress from meat and wool.

She confided some of these ideas to Arthur Alce and a few neighbouring
farmers. One and all discouraged her, and she told herself angrily that
the yeomen were jealous--as for Alce, it was just his usual silliness.
She found that she had a more appreciative listener in Dick Socknersh.
He received all her plans with deep respect, and sometimes an admiring
"Surelye, missus," would come from his lips that parted more readily for
food than for speech. Joanna found that she enjoyed seeking him out in
the barn, or turning off the road to where he stood leaning on his crook
with his dog against his legs.

"You'd never believe the lot there is in sheep-keeping, Socknersh; and
the wonders you can do if you have knowledge and information. Now the
folks around here, they're middling sensible, but they ain't what you'd
call clever. They're stuck in their ways, as you might say. Now if you
open your mind properly, you can learn a lot of things out of books. My
poor father had some wonderful books upon his shelves, that are mine to
read now, and you'd be surprised at the lot I've learned out of 'em,