In Volume 1, Chapter 1, the narrator uses a simile and a metaphor to depict the power of Lucy's radiant personality:
Wherever she went she seemed to take joy and brightness with her. In the cottages of the poor her fair face shone like a sunbeam.
The simile in this passage likens Lucy’s face to a “sunbeam.” She is so happy to be visiting the homes of others—as she is in this passage—that it shines from her “fair face” as if she is herself a source of light. This comparison does two things. It points to the universal appeal of her physical beauty, as it seems to radiate from her and affect everyone she meets. On a symbolic level, it also suggests that her less fortunate companions might like her for more than the simple fact of her company. Her beauty and positivity are so intense, Braddon suggests, that they are also gifts that she gives to the less fortunate. This passage portrays Lucy’s presence as a source of light in the dreariness of their lives.
The metaphor of "taking joy and brightness with her" solidifies this idea. The narrator speaks about "joy and brightness" as if they're tangible things that Lucy can carry in her hands. This also suggests that when Lucy departs, these positive emotions might leave with her. The relationship Lucy seems to have with the happiness of those around her is clearly outlined in this passage. Whether she’s present or absent, Lady Audley is a central figure who influences people’s feelings and desires.
Lucy’s beauty and ability to attract people is regularly referred to in ways that make it seem almost supernatural. Here, as Lucy sits painting and talking to Mrs. Dawson, Braddon uses hyperbolic language and a metaphor referring to an angel’s halo to emphasize its power:
The governess lifted her head from its stooping attitude, and stared wonderingly at her employer, shaking back a shower of curls. They were the most wonderful curls in the world—soft and feathery, always floating away from her face, and making a pale halo round her head when the sunlight shone through them.
Although Lucy is always described as ravishing, it seems unlikely that her hair is more wonderful than that of anyone else on the planet. Here, the hyperbolic statement, "the most wonderful curls in the world," serves to exaggerate Lucy's beauty to emphasize its constant draw. Even if her hair isn’t actually a cloud of "the most wonderful curls in the world," that’s how Mrs. Dawson perceives them. This exaggerated language establishes the younger woman’s beauty as something beyond the ordinary. She is seemingly irresistible, even to this gossiping older woman. In moments like this, the author’s use of hyperbole points to the irresistible pull Lucy’s appearance exerts. The passage assists in building a plausible foundation for the extreme heights to which beauty raises the soon-to-be Lady Audley. It also provides a rationale to explain some of her questionable behavior toward others.
The metaphor that her hair creates "a pale halo round her head" when it’s illuminated by sunlight is another step in this direction. By comparing her curls to a halo—a symbol traditionally associated with saints and angels—the author implies that Lucy’s appearance is a vital part of her quest to seem innocent. It’s especially relevant at this early moment in the novel because Mrs. Dawson has just suggested Lucy could make Sir Michael Audley marry her if she wanted. Because Lucy looks so innocent, people are inclined to think she has pure intentions, as Mrs. Dawson does here. Rather than being a true reflection of her character, Lucy’s angelic “halo” is a disguise that allows her to avoid accountability and suspicion for her choices.
In this passage from the first Chapter of Volume 1, Braddon portrays Sir Michael Audley's intense love for Lucy in metaphorical language. The narrator presents his adoration of her as a serious, all-consuming fever, foreshadowing the troubles to come with Lucy’s relationships:
What had been his love for his first wife but a poor, pitiful, smoldering spark, too dull to be extinguished, too feeble to burn? But this was love—this fever, this longing, this restless, uncertain, miserable hesitation; these cruel fears that his age was an insurmountable barrier to his happiness [...] wakeful nights and melancholy days, so gloriously brightened if he chanced to catch a glimpse of her sweet face behind the window curtains [...] told only too plainly that, at the sober age of fifty-five, Sir Michael Audley had fallen ill of the terrible fever called love.
There are technically two metaphors in this passage, but they are related by a common theme of heat. Sir Michael’s first marriage, he feels, was not passionate compared to his craving for Lucy. His first wife made him feel a “pitiful, smoldering spark,” which he found barely worthy of his attention. Lucy, by contrast, consumes him utterly. He is so in love with her that he can't sleep, suffering “wakeful nights and melancholy days.”
By describing his love as a fever, Braddon makes the consuming and passionate nature of his emotions clear. It suggests that his love for Lucy is unhealthily all-encompassing, to the point where it becomes a feverish obsession. The passage also hints at the idea that Lucy may not be entirely good for him, creating suspense and intrigue for the reader. This metaphor of feverish love foreshadows the potential consequences of his infatuation with Lucy.
In this section from Lady Audley's Secret, the author introduces information about the chilly, rigid character Harcourt Talboys. To highlight certain aspects of his personality, the narrative uses a simile referring to architecture and a metaphor comparing intelligence to sunlight:
Nobody ever remembered getting upon what is popularly called the blind side of Harcourt Talboys. He was like his own square-built, northern-fronted, shelterless house. There were no shady nooks in his character into which one could creep for shelter from his hard daylight. He was all daylight. He looked at everything in the same broad glare of intellectual sunlight, and would see no softening shadows that might alter the sharp outlines of cruel facts, subduing them to beauty.
The simile that likens Harcourt Talboys to "his own square-built, northern-fronted, shelterless house" gives readers a clear idea of what his personality is like. Just as his house is rigid, uncompromising stone, Talboys is unyielding and without pretense. The narrator lists descriptions of the “square-built, northern-fronted, shelterless” dwelling one after the other, drawing a parallel between this diction and Talboys’s way of operating with others. He’s as relentless and “square-built” as this list of compound words.
The metaphor that aligns intelligence with “daylight” further solidifies this characterization. Braddon refers to him as being "all daylight" and as being only able to see things in the “broad glare” of "intellectual sunlight." This metaphor suggests that Talboys is transparent in his beliefs and thoughts. He never shies away from the truth, and he’s uninterested in the nuances or gray areas. By describing him in this manner, Braddon highlights Talboys's unwillingness to see the "softening shadows" that might otherwise change the way he views other people and their behavior.
When George and Robert visit his house in Ventnor, Braddon depicts Lieutenant Maldon's state of confusion and intoxication through a metaphor of weak sunlight and uses a simile to illustrate the slow clearing of his alcohol-induced mental fog:
The old man's drunken imbecility was slowly clearing away like the heavy mists of a London fog, through which the feeble sunshine struggles dimly to appear. The very uncertain radiance of Lieutenant Maldon's intellect took a considerable time in piercing the hazy vapors of rum-and-water; but the flickering light at last faintly glimmered athwart the clouds, and the old man screwed his poor wits to the sticking-point.
In this passage, Braddon metaphorically represents Maldon's slow realization of what's happening to feeble sunshine attempting to pierce through a heavy London fog. Maldon’s wits are the “sunlight” that is struggling to pierce the “vapors” of his intoxication. This metaphor conveys the confusion and lack of clarity in his thinking, emphasizing his slow struggle to regain sobriety and coherence.
London fogs in the Victorian period were notoriously thick and soupy, in part because of all the dust from coal fires that filled the air in the city. The simile in this passage illustrates the impenetrability and density of Maldon’s stupor. He doesn’t just come suddenly to consciousness. He has to “screw his poor wits to the sticking point” to dissipate the dense mist that surrounds his clarity.
As the narrator reflects on the role of beauty in Lucy’s life, they delve into the profound implications of its influence on her moral compass. In order to do this, they engage personification and use a metaphor presenting her as an enslaved person:
Did she trace every sin of her life back to its true source? and did she discover that poisoned fountain in her own exaggerated estimate of the value of a pretty face? [...] the master-passions of her life had become her rulers, and the three demons of Vanity, Selfishness, and Ambition had joined hands and said 'This woman is our slave; let us see what she will become under our guidance'.
The metaphor of Lucy's beauty as a "poisoned fountain" points the reader to the double-edged nature of her attractiveness. A fountain is typically a source of coolness and nourishment, one that often symbolizes cleanliness and life. However, the descriptor "poisoned" as Braddon uses it here implies that Lucy's beauty is a toxic resource to draw upon. This metaphor insinuates that Lucy's fixation on her beauty is actually the root cause of her ethical problems.
As if this weren’t enough of a condemnation, the author then employs personification to animate the abstract qualities of “Vanity, Selfishness, and Ambition.” The narrator treats these aspects of the personality as if they had agency of their own, leading Lucy down a dark path. In turn, the novel reinforces the idea that beauty’s failings govern Lucy’s actions. This personification illustrates how beauty can corrupt a person. Lucy has been led so astray by "Vanity, Selfishness, and Ambition" that the narrator is almost in disbelief that Lucy herself doesn’t see the link between her vice and her physical appearance.
