The old woman's
force of character was colossal; pettinesses, small passions, were
unknown to her. Had her sphere been larger her promptitude of resource,
keenness of perception, resolute look onwards and upwards, solidity of
purpose, and incisive action might have graven her name on the tables of
history. Stagnating in the shallow pools of the unstoried rocks in which
she passed her life, these grand qualities were wasted and perverted.
She lost no time now in recrimination; a few sharp questions enabled her
to judge how far the weakness of affection had played the traitor with
the old woman, whom she left to settle matters with her own conscience.
She saw Garthmund, and told him that, in consequence of the
unsatisfactory augury of the last sacrifice, she had decided to postpone
the marriage. Nor did she appear to notice the indifference with which
the chief, who could not pretend that he ardently loved a bride who was
practically a stranger to him, received the decision. It took her some
time to discover where Hilda had taken refuge; it speaks ill for female
reticence that she discovered it shortly after the girl's removal to the
sisterhood.
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