Later on, as they went home to Hof, Ketill rode in silence, with never a word to his wife all the way.
Alma’s heart was full of conflicting emotions. She was sorry that there should be any coolness between herself and her husband; but her conscience at least was clear. And why could he not talk to her; tell her what it was that evidently troubled him? It struck her that he had never really confided in her, save in regard to matters of no account.
Suddenly she realized that they were really strangers. She had never really known him, after all; he had never opened his heart to her. And the distance between them seemed so tangible that it was hard to realize that they were actually married. Despite the intimacy of their relationship, they were separated by a veil of darkness and uncertainty. And so they were to live, side by side, year after year, bound one to another by a bond that could not be broken,—ay, and by another that would soon be evident,—to live in each other’s company through every day. And the thought was so painful to her that she found herself unwilling to contemplate that her children would have to call this man their father.
The change in her feelings, or more properly, her sudden realization of the true state of things, the recognition of her thoughtless rashness in entering upon this marriage, came to her as something overwhelming; she hardly knew herself. All in a moment she was changed; she was no longer the light-hearted, innocent girl, but a creature unknown, with unknown possibilities.
It was done now, and she was helpless. She had given vent to thoughts and feelings which, as her old self, she would never have dreamed of. So unaccustomed was she to act on the dictates of her own feeling and not by custom and tradition, to measure things by her own ideas and not by orthodox, accepted standards, that she felt herself now a dangerous person, a criminal, forced to seek refuge in silence and emptiness from words or thoughts that might lead to disaster.
There was her husband now, riding ahead, and paying no heed to how she managed on the way. Where was the courteous gentleman who had stood by her side at the altar? And she had told herself—and others—that she had found the ideal partner for life! A priest, moreover, a servant of God, set in the forefront of humanity as an example to others!
Little by little she worked herself up to a state of bitter scorn. Once she had let herself go, she knew no bounds.
And she did not spare herself, now that she had once ventured to form her own judgment of things and people, herself included.
Oh, what an irresponsible fool she had been in her self-deception! Trustful and idealistic—yes, and narrow-minded and unwittingly a hypocrite. A doll, a child, a foolish butterfly thing.... Heavens, how little and mean and stupid, wicked and ridiculous, she had been—she and so many others of her kind.
There was her husband, riding ahead ... yes....