“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.
“Are you comfortable?” Mrs Annesley asked.
“Oh yes! Someone like her, I just swat away like a fly.”
“Have you ever tried to kill a fly?” Elizabeth asked. “They are tricky, and move so fast it is nearly impossible to swat one. Most of the time you merely annoy them, and they return immediately.”
Georgiana giggled. “True, that has been my experience so far… but this is my dream, so my ball, and my reactions. I slay the dragon with the first strike.”
Elizabeth laughed with Mrs Annesley. “How would you describe yourself in this situation?”
“I look like myself, but I am as fearless as Lizzy.”
“How so? You dragged me to this house and extracted more of my private business than my sister will ever know, in less than a day, Georgiana. What more could you possibly want?”
Georgiana sat up, opened her eyes, and stared at Elizabeth.
“You are a special case, Lizzy Bennet. Had you met me in Lambton before my statue started talking, you would have considered me painfully shy… worse than your first impression of Anne.”
Elizabeth flinched, having once called Annesickly and cross.
“Touché. So, you think you lack resilience?”
Georgiana considered. “I think so. How did you become so tough?”
Not in the mood to reveal her childhood difficulties, the real cost of her resilience, or the very real possibility that many would consider her more than a touch mad, Elizabeth replied carefully, “That story is private, but perhaps I can help you with a different example. Do you know how the army turns ignorant farm boys into soldiers?”
Georgiana looked startled at the suggestion, but being resilient should at least include allowing her best friend to meander onto a different topic.
“I will bite.”
"Napoleon, Wellington, and Caesar used similar methods, allowing, of course, for the nearly 2,000 years that separate them. They start with a boy, put a heavy pack on his back, and march 20 miles. They repeat it day after day while a sergeant yells at him, half instruction and half intimidation. They continue with various trials, pushing the men to their limits and beyond. They accustom them to gunfire by first having them fire muskets, then have others fire over their shoulders, and eventually have others fire over their heads while they crawl through the mud. I am of course vastly oversimplifying, and any real soldier would laugh at the limits of my knowledge, but you understand the idea. It is like Milo’s bull writ large."
Georgiana stared in shock, while Mrs Annesley smiled gently.
“Do you mean Richard did this?”
Elizabeth leaned forward and took her hands. “He endured all that and far worse. He then went out to find men who were shootingat himrather than over his head, trying their best tokill him—dead.”
“You do not spare us in your analogies, do you?”
“A wise old man once said excess is its own reward.”
“You just made that up?”
Elizabeth chuckled.
