Alma was left very much to herself; her husband had little time to spare for entertaining her. When he was not busy with his sermons, he was occupied out of doors.
The cattle were brought in for water, and the sheep called down from the mountain pastures where they had grazed throughout the summer. Their numbers had to be checked, according to the list prepared when they had first gone out, to see if any were missing. Then came the question as to how many should be kept during the winter. The hay in the lofts was measured out in horse-loads; one sheep needed but a single horse-load for the whole winter, this being eked out by the winter grazing grounds, which gave a certain amount of feed each year, on the hillsides or down by the shore. A cow, on the other hand, would need forty horse-loads, whereas a horse could manage with ten. All these and other details had to be considered.
Then came the killing season, and large droves of sheep were sent off, either direct to the slaughter-houses or to the market.
There were repairs to be undertaken, buildings and outhouses to be seen to; altogether, there were many things which claimed Sera Ketill’s attention, and often his personal supervision, especially the sale and slaughtering of the stock.
Indoors, too, there was much to be done; supplies of dried, preserved, and pickled provisions were invariably laid in for each winter.
Alma herself had not much to do. When it was fine enough she went for long walks; otherwise, she spent most of her time reading or sewing. Now and again she would go out into the kitchen, and try to talk to the maids. When Kata was at liberty, Alma sought her company, either in the kitchen or in the sitting-room. Kata preferred the former; it seemed to her a mark of favouritism to be invited into the inner rooms. Alma had come to appreciate highly the old woman’s straightforward earnestness and her power of maintaining discipline when necessary, and old Kata had no greater wish than to do all in her power for her young mistress. She carried out her duties faithfully, and saw to it that the other servants did the same.
Alma had thus plenty of time to consider her own position. But it was a difficult matter to arrive at any clear conclusion out of the maze of moods and fancies that filled her mind.
At times she even thought of returning home to her people, but only for a moment. She felt she would never be able to take up the threads of her old life again. And indeed, from a practical point of view, it seemed impossible. What would her husband say to such a step? Moreover, she would probably be having a child before long.
Apart from these considerations, however, she could hardly bring herself to leave the country; it had made a powerful impression on her from the first, and she felt herself strangely under its spell. Here, at least, she could live, even if she had to renounce all idea of any happiness in her domestic life with her husband. If she went away now, she felt that a part of her being would be left behind; to live elsewhere would be spiritless, intolerable.