Chapter 40
Resilience the companion seemed to have a fount of useful tricks to impart.
Georgiana asked, “Mrs Annesley, would you say you have seen quite a few young ladies make the transition from childhood to adulthood?”
“I would expand that considerably. I was the wife of a parson, but the daughter of a gentleman. He was a simple country squire, much like Mr Bennet.”
“You know about my father? You only met me a few hours ago.”
“When a statue speaks, one takes note.”
Unfortunately, Elizabeth was sipping tea at that moment, so she spat most of it out and laughed wildly for some time.
Eventually, she regulated herself enough to answer. “I beg your pardon. That was unexpected.”
Mrs Annesley gave her a knowing smile, and Georgiana giggled.
“Unexpected, yes, but that might well be the second or third most amusing thing that has happened in this room in my lifetime.”
“I shudder to think what the first might be.”
“At the risk of sending you into another fit, Lizzy, I would say that the statue speaking was the first. Can you tell me why you found it so funny?”
Elizabeth had never been in such harmony with any two new acquaintances in her life, so she replied, “I cannot… well, I mean, I will not tell you the entire story, but… well… let me tell you about the mirror and the statue.”
She spent a quarter-hour on the subject, while her companions passed from shock to amusement, then to outright laughter.
Eventually, Georgiana controlled her mirth—barely. “That presents quite an image.”
“I confess I pictured a statue covered in bird dung speaking, and it was just too much to maintain my equanimity.”
Everyone smiled, and Mrs Annesley called them back to the topic at hand. “The master spent some time talking about you. He, of course, said nothing untoward. It was all quite complimentary, but… the sheer quantity of discourse was notable.”
What should she think about that?
Elizabeth returned to the original topic. “You have seen many ladies grow up.”
“I have, but I must correct your wording. Change ladies to women and you will be nearer the mark. I was the second daughter, the last of my parents’ children.
My elder brother inherited, and my elder sister married well.
My father thought I married beneath me when I accepted my Harold, but I was a stubborn creature, not to be swayed by pretty words or even not-so-pretty words. I eventually prevailed.”
“I am always happy to meet another stubborn creature. I imagine you saw all classes in your parish, and if you were as active as I surmise, you probably observed many transitions. With your husband and son involved in the marrying and burying, you must have had a good vantage point.”
“Precisely. I must shamefully admit that I looked down on the so-called lower classes at first. I am not certain what changed my attitude. Perhaps it was that St Peter said, ‘Truly I understand that God shows no partiality’; or it was merely living with people day by day, seeing that they were neither better nor worse than the gentry. It is hard to say. In the end, I treated them all the same, and I was the better for it.”
“That is admirable. Do you know anyone else of the gentry who does that?”
Quite to her shock, Mrs Annesley stared her down like a disappointed governess. “I understand your father is lazy, but that is no excuse for following his example. You know the answer perfectly well.”
Elizabeth was neither intimidated nor troubled by the stare. “I suppose that is what a good statue should do.”
“Exactly. I do not claim to know Mr Darcy well, and I am the first to admit that he was an overly proud and dismissive man to certain classes of individuals, but I can tell you what you already know. Talk to anyone in Lambton or Kympton, or to his tenants or servants, and the question will answer itself.”
“You are correct. I thank you for the intelligence.”
“Our discussion is like a river in flood,” Mrs Annesley said. “It seems to wander every which way. I never answered the question about young women, if there was one.”
“I have a question, if you do not mind,” Georgiana said. “What is the most important thing young women lack that might make the difference between success and failure in becoming a proper adult?”
“You wish me to give away all my secrets, so you have no further need of my services?”
“Of course not!”
“There are two things they need—resiliency and imagination.”
Elizabeth leaned forward. “An interesting choice, and I would say sound. My father has many failings, both parents actually, but my father boasted recently that he at least raised 5 resilient daughters. I cannot necessarily fault his reasoning. Whether that is the best attribute to have is debatable, but I hope I have some measure of it.”
“I would like to be half as resilient as you, Lizzy,” Georgiana said.
“Do not fret. You have more than I could boast of at 16. There is no great hurry.”
Georgiana looked ready to argue, but turned back to Mrs Annesley. “What of imagination? Why do you list that so prominently?”
“Because life holds so much that cannot be known. Imagine a child who has barely learnt to count to 5.”
Both her charges nodded.
“That child not only cannot count to 20 or 100; he cannot even conceive of such a number, nor any possible need to count that high. It is beyond his imagination. He does not have the basic concepts due to lack of experience. In some cases, it can even go beyond childhood. Some explorers find natives who count 1, 2, 3, many. That is all they know, and it is sufficient for their needs.”
“I never thought about it that way,” Elizabeth said, “but it makes sense. I have trouble connecting that to our situation, though.”
“At your age, you must make decisions that will affect your whole lives, but most young women base them on something akin to the child that can only count to 5. There is no way you can understand the scope and scale of a lifetime commitment. You cannot imagine what it is like to eat breakfast or share a bed with a man every day for decades.”
Both ladies blushed at the direct reference, but the companion winked. “Consider that training in resiliency.”
They giggled and signalled her to continue.
“At your age, you do not have the experience to know what the future holds. None of us know that, but with more years you can have a better idea. You cannot understand the pain of childbirth unless you stick your hand in a blacksmith’s forge.
You cannot understand the unbridled joy of holding a child in your arms for the first time unless you…
well, there I cannot even begin to find an analogy.
You cannot understand the vicious rows that you will undoubtedly have with your husband unless you have particularly disagreeable siblings.
You cannot understand the joy of coming together after such a huge row, unless you…
well, that one I cannot think of a good example, and I shall not be explicit. ”
She paused for breath.
“Returning to your Miss Lucas, you will eventually have to decide how to spend your lives, without knowing all or even most of the facts. Such is life, but at your age, you must make high-stakes decisions. You hope for the best but prepare to do what is necessary. You can get advice from your elders, but you still have to make some effort to project your life forward.”
"I can well agree with you about imagination,” Elizabeth said. “I have an imaginative technique I use that is little different from daydreaming, but useful."
Georgiana and Mrs Annesley waited for her to explain.
“For example, I wanted to determine whether I was unfair to Mr Darcy with my implacable resentment. In other words, I was the child who could only count to 5, but also insisted that 5 must be 4 because numbers were stupid, and my numbers were better than yours.”
Georgiana giggled, and Elizabeth continued.
“I tried an experiment Miss Lucas taught me. I imagined a particular scene, a ball at Netherfield, in as much detail as I could, right down to the smell of the candles and taste of dinner. I replaced your brother with my sister, my sister with some poor fool, and so forth. I completely reframed the problem to see it from your brother’s point of view. ”
Georgiana asked, “And?”
Elizabeth sighed. "Your brother was mostly absolved, and I wanted to thrash my own family."
Mrs Annesley said, “A very useful technique. Might we try something similar with Miss Darcy?”
Elizabeth expressed all the enthusiasm in the world for the scheme, while Georgiana grudgingly agreed to go along.
Mrs Annesley said, “Miss Darcy, let us try it. Lean back and close your eyes.”
The young lady followed the instruction.
“Now picture yourself in some future function that you consider both enjoyable and important. You might pick a ball, a house party, something of that nature.”
“Very well, I shall pick a ball.”
“Now imagine what kind of lady you would like to be. Imagine a scene with you talking to friends and enemies alike. Imagine you handling it as you would wish. As Miss Bennet suggested, add as much detail as you can… the colour of your dress, the jewels you wear, the smell of the candles, the music.”
They sat back quietly for a few moments to let the young lady accustom herself to the idea.
“That might have been difficult yesterday,” Georgiana said. “It seems you chose your moment well.”
“I usually do, dear. Describe how you feel and what you do.”
Georgiana described the ambience of the ballroom with surprising accuracy, considering she had never attended one. She detailed several hypothetical friends, followed by the approach and speech of someone she named Miss B, whose identity was obvious.