In this passage, the author uses personification to capture an important moment of introspection for Josephine toward the end of the story. As she drifts into a mixture of memory and daydream, Josephine observes that:
The sunlight pressed through the windows, thieved its way in, flashed its light over the furniture and the photographs. [...] The rest had been looking after father and at the same time keeping out of father's way. But now? But now? The thieving sun touched Josephine gently. She lifted her face. She was drawn over to the window by gentle beams.
Here, Mansfield gives human characteristics to the sunlight, which invades the room and interacts with Josephine as if it were a person. Initially, the sun aggressively "presses" and "thieves its way in." Because the house has been so shut up in mourning, this feels incongruous. It gives the sunlight a sense of action and intent as it illuminates the room and its contents.
As the sun "touche[s] Josephine gently," the narrative shifts, using personification to reflect a change in Josephine's internal state. The sun, which Mansfield just described as “stealing” its way in, now offers a comforting caress to the confused and mourning woman. It goes from being an unpleasant reminder of the invasive outside world to one that seems inviting and pleasant. Rather than showing Josephine things in the house that she doesn’t want to see—like the “furniture and the photographs”— she is "drawn over to the window by gentle beams" to look outside at the world beyond.
Toward the end of the story, Mansfield uses visual imagery and personification to describe Josephine’s melancholy reflections on how absent her mother seemed in comparison to the Colonel. The sun coming through the window prowls around the house investigating its contents:
When it came to mother's photograph, the enlargement over the piano, it lingered as though puzzled to find so little remained of mother, except the ear-rings shaped like tiny pagodas and a black feather boa. Why did the photographs of dead people always fade so? wondered Josephine.
Mansfield personifies the sun as an animate entity who "explores" the room here. Of course, it’s not actually the “sun” who is exploring. The narrator uses the “sun’s” gaze to reflect the elements of the room around her, which are attracting Josephine’s attention. The “sun” and Josephine are both “puzzled” as they consider the scant remnants of her mother's existence within their home.
The visual imagery Mansfield uses here is striking and purposeful: things that would otherwise seem unique and characterful lose their power and importance. The mother’s earrings, which are shaped like tiny pagodas and a black feather boa are odd, memorable items. However, even though they’re still there, compared to the overwhelming presence of the Colonel, they barely register. Much like her fading photograph, Josephine and Constantia’s mother recedes into the backdrop of their father’s more assertive legacy.
The photograph, which Josephine observes is slowly losing its clarity, symbolizes the mother's roles and legacy in a patriarchal society. Women, the story seems to suggest, are shadowed and diminished by the dominant presence of male authority. The mother's near-absence is part of the story’s narrative about the marginalization and erasure of women's identities in this period.
