“And yet, here you are with more notes and graphs.”
“Allow me to explain. I made up a new measure, which I shall callQuality of Life[xxi], to map a person’s life experience.It is obviously terribly imprecise, but I tried to take everything I could read in each month and give it a numerical value. I accounted, as far as I could, for health, wealth, comfort, and general feelings of happiness. The scale runs from 0-100. 90 would be a loving, happy, and healthy person, free from want and strife, surrounded by loving children sitting before a warm fire. 10 would be a miserable life—someone sick, in pain, and desperate. I presumed most people muddle along somewhere around 50 and tried mapping people’s lives onto this scale. By this measure, my aunt and uncle would spend most of their lives around 80, while my parents would be lucky to break 50 on a good week, and mostly hover around 35. I next tried mapping Anne’s life similarly. It is rough, approximate, probably incorrect, and in all ways insufficient, but I hope you might find it enlightening.”
Lady Catherine leaned forward with some interest. “Fascinating.”
Elizabeth showed them another line graph, much like the first.
“As you see, in her 15thyear—her life bounced up and down between 10-20 on this scale. It is almost the inverse of the previous graph, but with added factors, and in the last month she did not think herself likely to die even once.”
Lady Catherine studied the paper. “I remember that year. To be honest, the first graph could probably be measured in the volume of my tears. This tells the same story.”
“This is interesting, Lizzy,” Anne said after a good look. “To tell the truth, I can hardly remember that year myself, and I never had the courage to read the journal. You know my words better than I do.”
Elizabeth pulled out another graph.
“Let us look at your 16thyear. You started about 20—a considerable improvement—then you bounced up and down between 20-30, much like the previous year. You ended your 16thyear around 30, which did not seem particularly wonderful, but it was a clear improvement over your 15th.”
Both ladies examined the graph carefully, and Anne said, “I remember approaching my 17thbirthday feeling life had slightly improved, so that correlates with what you said, but I would have thought it a very minor improvement.”
“Let us look at that year. You somehow clawed your way up from the low to the upper 30s by the end of the year, and things seemed to improve. You were not by any stretch of the imagination healthy and happy, but you were improving.”
“Out of curiosity, where do you generally fall on this scale, Miss Bennet? Have you done the exercise on yourself?” Lady Catherine asked.
“To be honest, for most of my youth, I would have been in the 30-40 range, but that was mostly because of self-inflicted wounds. My own behaviour both disturbed my equanimity and drove people away, leaving me lonely and brittle, even though my own actions caused the problems. A good friend helped me overcome them, and I feel as if I have lived in the 60-70 range these last few years. I am generally healthy and happy.”
“I envy that,” Anne sighed.
Elizabeth refrained from comment. “Shall we continue?”
“By all means.”
Elizabeth uncovered another graph. “Let us look at your 20thyear. As you can see, you were floating around between 30-50, but here it falls sharply.”
“That was the year I caught a terrible cold in the winter, and it lasted for months.”
“Exactly. I have so far not really told you anything a little reasoning would not divulge. The interesting point, though, is that you were down for a few months, and climbed back to your accustomed level of around 40 very quickly. You see it here? See how steep the line is, indicating rapid improvement.Thoseare the insights a graph helps you see.”
The ladies examined the graph, and Lady Catherine ventured, “Your charts show that that if you get sick, then get well, your life improves.”
“Correct! But let us look here, a few months later. You had a long, mostly flat period, much as in the previous year—the status quo, correct?”
Both ladies nodded.
“It took a dramatic turn for the better just here, a few months before your 21stbirthday. It may not have seemed dramatic, but it rose as high as 55 over just 3 months, a score you had never previously achieved.”
Anne looked carefully at the graph. “I do not remember that period as being particularly happier than any before it, but I will take your word for it.”
“No, you shall not. I am the mirror, remember. You must do your own thinking.”
Anne stared at it for a while. “Icanremember that period gradually becoming better and better if I put my mind to it. Can you account for it?”
Elizabeth trod carefully. “I shall not attempt a scientific explanation, but I can point to a correlation—though I caution you that correlation is not causation. The upturn in your fortunes happened immediately after Dr Choak died.”
Anne and her mother gasped, and demanded to see the entry. They had never put the two incidents together, since theyboth thought of one physician as much like another; and Anne had been sickly both before and after the doctor’s demise.
Elizabeth continued as if anxious to get the miserable chore over. “He conveniently died when you were in a relatively good place. He was still treating you at his death, but… well, let me ask this outright. Did he have you taking treatments, even though by any objective measure you were not terribly unhealthy, though you had been for some time?”
Both ladies considered it, and Lady Catherine said, “It seemed prudent, after so many years of illness, and all the physicians agreed.”
