Jofrid thanked her mother-in-law. “But now we won’t trouble you anymore.” And she picked up the child, who was now reaching out for his mother and wanted to go to her, and they left the room.
Kristin put away the honey box. Then she continued to sit there, with nothing to occupy her hands. The chests on the gallery could wait until Ingrid came in.
It had been intended that she would have Frida Styrkaarsdatter as her maid when she moved out to the old house. But then Frida married one of the servants who had come with Helge Duk, a lad young enough to be her son.
“It’s the custom in our part of the country for our servants to listen to their masters when they’re offered advice for their own good,” said Jofrid when Kristin wondered how this marriage had come about.
“But here in this parish,” said Kristin, “the commoners aren’t accustomed to obeying us if we’re unreasonable, nor do they follow our advice unless it’s of equal benefit to them and to us. I’m giving you good advice, Jofrid; you should keep it in mind.”
“What Mother says is true,” added Gaute, but his voice was quite meek.
Even before he was married, Kristin had noticed that Gaute was very reluctant to speak against Jofrid. And he had become the most amenable of husbands.
Kristin didn’t deny that Gaute could stand to listen to what his wife had to say about many things; she was more sensible, capable, and hardworking than most women. And she was no more loose in her ways than Kristin herself had been. She too had trampled on her duties as a daughter and sold her honor since she could not win the man she had set her heart on in any better way. After she had gotten what she wanted, she became the most honorable and faithful wife. Kristin could see that Jofrid had great love for her husband; she was proud of his handsome appearance and his esteemed lineage. Her sisters had married wealthy men, but it was best to look at their husbands at night, when the moon wasn’t shining, and their ancestors weren’t even worth mentioning, Jofrid said scornfully. She zealously tended to her husband’s welfare and honor as she perceived it, and at home she indulged him as best she could. But if Gaute suggested that he might have a different opinion from his wife regarding even the smallest matter, Jofrid would first agree with such an expression that Gaute would begin to waver, and then she would bring him around to her point of view.
But Gaute was flourishing. No one could doubt that these two young people lived well together. Gaute loved his wife, and both of them were so proud of their son and loved him beyond all measure.
So everything should have been fine and good. If only Jofrid Helgesdatter hadn’t been . . . well, she was stingy; Kristin couldn’t find any other word for it. If she hadn’t been stingy, Kristin wouldn’t have felt annoyed that her daughter-in-law had such a desire to take charge.
During the grain harvest that very first autumn, right after Jofrid had returned to the estate as a married woman, Kristin could see that the servants were already discontented, although they seldom said anything. But the old mistress noticed it just the same.
Sometimes it had also happened in Kristin’s day that the servants were forced to eat herring that was sour, or bacon as yellow and rancid as a resinous pine torch, or spoiled meat. But then everyone knew that their mistress was bound to make up for it with something particularly good at another meal: milk porridge or fresh cheese or good ale out of season. And if there was food that was about to go bad and had to be eaten, everyone simply felt as if Kristin’s full storerooms were overflowing. If people were in need, the abundance at J?rundgaard offered security for everyone. But now people were already uncertain whether Jofrid would prove to be generous with the food if there should be a shortage among the peasants.
This was what angered her mother-in-law, for she felt it diminished the honor of the manor and its owner.
It didn’t trouble her as much that she had discovered firsthand, over the course of the year, that her daughter-in-law always saved the best for her own. On Saint Bartholomew’s Day she received two goat carcasses instead of the four she should have been given. It was true that wolverines had ravaged the smaller livestock in the mountains the previous summer, and yet Kristin thought it petty to hold back from slaughtering two more goats on such a large estate. But she held her tongue. It was the same way with everything she was supposed to be given from the farm: the autumn slaughtering, grain and flour, fodder for her four cows and two horses. She received either smaller amounts or poor-quality goods. She saw that Gaute was both embarrassed and ashamed by this, but he didn’t dare do anything for fear of his wife, and so he pretended not to notice.