The House at Riverton

This section contains the central revelation of Grace’s parentage, information that redefines her identity and shapes her agency. Her choice to reject Alfred’s proposal and remain with Hannah is not merely an act of a loyal servant but the acceptance of a newly understood familial bond. This knowledge does not liberate Grace from the hierarchical structures that define her life; instead, it reframes her servitude as an unbreakable, self-imposed duty. Her promise to Hannah solidifies into a sacred pact the instant she realizes they are half-sisters. This decision powerfully illustrates The Impact of Class and Gender on Lineage and Opportunity. Grace’s identity becomes inextricably linked to her instinctive connection to the Hartford family, a connection that paradoxically reinforces her subordinate position. She chooses a role as Hannah’s confidante over a new life with Alfred, revealing a belief that her value is derived from service, now further intensified by the blood tie. 

The frame narrative is instrumental in exploring Remembrance as a Means of Emotional Resolution and Legacy Preservation. Grace’s experience at the spring fair acts as a catalyst, with the “odd foggy sensation” (269) she feels mirroring both the London fog of her past and the fragmented nature of her recollections. Her eventual collapse in the historical society tent is a physical manifestation of memory’s oppressive weight, but also of her approaching death. A question about Robbie Hunter’s suicide proves too potent, shattering the dam that has held back 70 years of trauma. This moment is a step forward in Grace’s progress towards acceptance of her painful past. The photographs of Riverton compound this effect, representing a “cruel, ironical art” (301) that freezes moments in time, creating a false sense of clarity that contrasts with the painful reality of lived experience. The narrative structure, which filters the past through Grace’s triggered recollections, immerses the reader in the fractured personal process of remembering.

The recurring motif of methods of storytelling is woven into the theme of Sibling Loyalty versus Romantic Love, highlighting how communication both conceals and reveals. Hannah’s note to Grace, written in the “secret language” of shorthand, functions as a private testament to their bond, but its secrecy forces Grace to seek an external interpreter. This act of translation inadvertently leads Grace to the painful discovery of Alfred’s outing with Lucy, illustrating how one secret can have unintended consequences. The content of the note—“[you are] more like a sister than a maid” (320)—is laden with dramatic irony, as Grace receives this confirmation of their emotional closeness just before uncovering the biological truth. This layered secrecy underscores the complexity of their relationship, a bond built on unspoken truths that exist outside the master-servant dynamic. The shorthand note, much like the locket in Part 2, contains a hidden truth about identity, but its unlocking precipitates a crisis, demonstrating that the preservation of one secret often leads to further deceptions.

Through the contrasting characterizations of Hannah, Emmeline, and Deborah, the narrative offers a critique of the limited avenues for female agency in the post-war aristocracy, highlighting The Impact of Class and Gender on Lineage and Opportunity. Hannah’s desire to work at a socialist press represents an intellectual and political rebellion against the domesticity expected of her. Her ambition is swiftly suppressed by her sister-in-law, Deborah, who acts as a warden of patriarchal convention and uses the threat of social ruin as a tool for control. Emmeline’s form of rebellion, in contrast, is naive and risky. Her elopement with an exploitative filmmaker is driven by her desire to be “love[d] the best” (315). By placing Hannah’s thwarted intellectual aspirations alongside Emmeline’s perilous romanticism, the narrative explores the different, yet equally constrained, paths available to women of their station. Both sisters seek an escape from their prescribed roles, but their attempts are thwarted, illustrating the social control of female autonomy.

The physical settings function as reflections of the characters’ internal landscapes. In Paris Hannah is captivated by a sketch of a powerful woman—a piece of art she recognizes as “dangerous.” Her desire for it signifies a longing for an authentic part of herself. Teddy’s refusal and his substitution of a mink wrap—a symbol of conventional possession—marks the beginning of her spirit’s suppression. The transition from Paris to Grosvenor Square charts Hannah’s psychological journey from hope to disillusionment. The London townhouse becomes her gilded cage, a place of suffocating obligations where she feels “dead on the inside” (326). Similarly, the squalid film studio where Emmeline is found is a physical manifestation of her corrupted romantic fantasy, a dark, claustrophobic space of exploitation. For Grace, the London house is a site of profound isolation, where Mrs. Tibbit’s malice is a foil for the staff “family” at Riverton, mirroring her emotional loneliness and intensifying her longing for Alfred. Each setting serves as an extension of the characters’ psychological states.