Near the beginning of the story, Waythorn reflects on what he likes about his wife Alice, using a simile and hyperbole in the process:
Her composure was restful to him; it acted as a ballast to his somewhat unstable sensibilities. As he pictured her bending over the child’s bed he thought how soothing her presence must be in illness: her very step would prognosticate recovery.
The simile here—in which the narrator describes Waythorn’s belief that Alice’s composure “acted as a ballast to his somewhat unstable sensibilities”—communicates how Waythorn relies on Alice for emotional stability. Ballasts are heavy materials (such as sand, iron, or lead) stored at the bottom of vehicles like ships in order to stabilize them. Like a ballast, Alice grounds Waythorn and keeps him from acting in erratic, emotionally-driven ways.
This is one of the positive effects of Alice’s commitment to prioritizing social etiquette above all else. That said, Waythorn’s expectation that Alice exists as a ballast in order to “stabilize” him suggests that he sees her as an object who exists for his benefit, a sexist belief commonly held by men at the time. He does not seem at all concerned about the possible negative effects this would have on her or if she would like him to offer her this kind of stabilizing support.
The hyperbole here—in which Waythorn claims that Alice’s “very step” would “prognosticate recovery”—is clearly an exaggeration, as it is not possible that simply by walking in a soothing manner Alice would be able to help her daughter heal from typhoid. The language here helps readers understand just how infatuated Waythorn is with his wife and how much he admires her composure (something he will, later in the story, come to deeply resent).
Near the beginning of the story, the narrator describes Alice’s constant composure using hyperbolic language, as seen in the following passage:
The nurse spoke as reassuringly, and after a moment of alarm Mrs. Waythorn had adjusted herself to the situation. She was very fond of Lily — her affection for the child had perhaps been her decisive charm in Waythorn’s eyes — but she had the perfectly balanced nerves which her little girl had inherited, and no woman ever wasted less tissue in unproductive worry.
When the narrator states that “no woman ever wasted less tissue in unproductive worry,” they are using exaggerated and hyperbolic language in order to communicate something important about Alice’s character. While many would expect a mother to have an intense emotional reaction to finding out that her daughter was sick with typhoid (which, at the time, often resulted in death), Alice only has a single “moment of alarm” before “adjust[ing] herself to the situation” and not giving into “unproductive worry.”
This moment is significant, as it establishes early on in the story that acting in a composed manner is core to Alice’s character. As an upper-class woman in a society that prizes social etiquette above all else, she knows that she must prove to her husband and the doctors that she is able to control her emotions, even in this objectively upsetting situation.