" One evening, when the household had all retired to bed, the staff gathered by the raging servants'-hall fire. Mr. Hamilton and Mrs. Townsend formed bookends on either side, while Nancy, Katie and I huddled between on dining chairs, squinting in the flickering firelight at the scarves we were dutifully knitting. A cold wind lashed against the windowpanes, and insurgent draughts set Mrs. Townsend's jars of dry goods to quivering on the kitchen shelf. "

― Kate Morton , The House at Riverton