no more attention to it than she could help. It had lasted now nearly a
year, and she was heartily sick of it. It filled the papers with
monotonous news which tired her attention--which she did not really try
to understand. Now she supposed she would have to understand it. For
George, her new brother-in-law, was sure to talk a terrible amount of
shop.

Sir William was very tall certainly, and good-looking. He had a short
pointed beard, a ruddy, sunburnt complexion, blue eyes and broad
shoulders--the common points of the well-born and landowning
Englishman. Bridget looked at him with a mixture of respect and
hostility. To be rich was to be so far interesting; still all such
persons, belonging to a world of which she knew nothing, were in her
eyes 'swells,' and gave themselves airs; a procedure on their part,
which would be stopped when the middle and lower classes were powerful
enough to put them in their place. It was said, however, that this
particular man was rather a remarkable specimen of his kind--didn't
hunt--didn't preserve--had trained as an artist, and even exhibited. The
shopwoman in B---- from whom Miss Cookson derived her information about
the Farrells, had described Sir William as 'queer'--said everybody knew
he was 'queer.' Nobody could get him to do any county work. He hated
Committees, and never went near them. It was said he had been in love
and the lady had died. 'But if we all turned lazy for that kind of
thing!'--said the little shopwoman, shrugging her shoulders. Still the
Farrells were not unpopular. Sir William had a pleasant slow way of
talking, especially to the small folk; and he had just done something
very generous in giving up his house--the whole of his house--somewhere
Cockermouth way, to the War Office, as a hospital. As for his sister,
she seemed to like driving convalescent officers about, and throwing
away money on her clothes. There was no sign of 'war economy' about Miss