A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [16]
The second knock had the desired effect, for this time even Maisie could hear Liddicote call, “Come!” without having her ear to the door.
“Miss Dobbs.” Upon entering the room, the woman announced Maisie’s name in a loud voice, and waited for acknowledgment.
Liddicote swiveled his wooden captain’s-style chair around to face Maisie, and beckoned her towards the visitor’s chair; then he cast his eyes down to refer to the sheaf of papers that she assumed contained both her letters of reference and her curriculum vitae. She could see that he had scribbled notes in a small, precise hand underneath several paragraphs, and along the margins.
“Thank you, Miss Linden.”
Maisie noticed that his eyes did not meet those of his secretary, and that as she closed the door behind her, her face was like stone.
Liddicote set the papers on the desk in front of him and clasped his hands under his chin as he leaned back in the chair. The swivel chair had clearly seen better days and seemed as if it might give way at any moment. As he looked up at her once again, Maisie thought Liddicote might apply some sort of dye to his hair, for it seemed unnaturally dark brown, like the polished boot of a solider. The color was particularly incongruous against his face, which was lined, though no more than one might expect of a man past sixty; she would have thought it more natural if a few wisps of gray were evident. His clothes appeared more expensive than one might expect of a professor, and she suspected he might always be prepared for a meeting with a person of importance, one who had the funds to make a bequest to the college.
“I’ve read your application in some detail, Miss Dobbs. Your references are impressive.”
“Thank you, Dr. Liddicote.”
“But why do you now want to teach?”
Without preamble, the question felt as if it had been shot from a gun.
“I have long wanted to teach, Dr. Liddicote. It was always an ambition, inspired and encouraged by my own beloved teacher, Dr. Maurice Blanche.” She paused. “Dr. Blanche began directing my education when I was a girl—at the time I was struggling to teach myself Latin.” She took a deep breath, wondering how much of herself she should reveal. “My years of formal learning—which could best be described as ‘limited’—ended when I was twelve, due to my mother’s death and my father’s circumstances. So I set out to teach myself, and was fortunate when my employer consulted with Dr. Blanche regarding my future. It was Maurice Blanche who taught me that the word ‘education’ is rooted in the word educare—or ex ducare—and the most important aspect of the definition is that it has two meanings; one being to acquire knowledge—from books and study—and the second to explore and understand that which is within us. Dr. Blanche underlined that the second is a search, a journey leading to the places where wisdom lies and is crucial to who we might become. In taking up the teaching profession I am not only imparting knowledge but playing a part in each student’s personal pilgrimage of learning. It represents a great responsibility, but one that is rewarding, without doubt.”
Liddicote looked at Maisie and held her gaze for longer than was comfortable, though she did not look away. She felt it was as if he were assessing her response and looking for evidence of where she might be on that personal pilgrimage.
“And what if the student shows no talent for introspection, Miss Dobbs? How would you deal with such a situation, if your ambition is to lead your students towards a nirvana of personal wisdom?”
His tone verged on sarcasm, though she suspected he was playing devil’s advocate.
“I see my role as being instrumental in introducing the study of philosophy in a way that has meaning for my students, rather than regurgitating a series of lectures on modern thought, as if it were biology