jority of every class in every
country, thought that Preacher Joe would make trouble, and looked
forward hopefully to a row. For at least a month after the announcement
every drawing-room and public-house in South Sussex was rife with
malicious and sometimes amusing stories. The authors of them were doomed
to disappointment. Not only was Mr. Longstaffe quietly and obviously
happy, but he and his son-in-law, who was but five years his junior,
showed themselves to be unusually good friends.

And there was no doubt the marriage was a success. The content on
Patience Woodburn's face was evidence enough of that.

How far the strange and apparently ill-assorted couple affected each
other it was difficult to say. Outwardly, at least, Old Mat remained Old
Mat still, and Patience, although she became Ma Woodburn, went her
strong, still way much as before her marriage. Bred on the land and
loving it, inheriting a wonderful natural way with stock of every kind,
she was from the first her husband's right hand, none the less real
because unsuspected and to a great extent unseen.

She was never known to attend so much as a point-to-point, but when a
colt wasn't furnishing a-right, or a horse entered for a big event was
not coming on as he should, it was Ma who was sent for and Ma who took
the matter in hand.

"I've nothing against horses and racing," she would say. "God meant 'em
to race and jump, I reck'n. But I don't think he meant us to bet and
beer over 'em."

From the first she was a power in the Putnam stable.

Except in a crisis she interfered little with the lads, but when they
went sick or smashed themselves, she took them into her house and nursed
them as though they were her own. If they were grateful they did not
show it; but in times of stress some spirit whose presence you would
never have suspected made itself suddenly and sweetly apparent.

The Bible Class for the lads in her husband's employ she had started on
the first Sunday of her reign at Putnam's.

It was voluntary for those over fifteen; but all the lads attended--"to
oblige."

That class at the start had been the subject of untold jokes in the
racing world.

There had even been witticisms about it in the _Pink Un_ and other
sporting papers.

And when Mat had been asked what he thought of it the story went that he
had answered:

"I winks at ut," adding, with a twinkle: "I winks at a lot--got to now."

Ma Woodburn kept the class going for twenty