A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [17]
“And how will you do that?”
“I intend to introduce the important philosophical ideas and the teachings of the masters in such a way that students are turned towards their own personal experience as a path to understanding. I would see my role, ultimately, as one tasked with inculcating a sense of wonder regarding the self.”
“A lofty ambition.”
“I may be an idealist, but I believe that when one enters teaching, one’s ambitions should be lofty.” Maisie’s eyes met Liddicote’s once more, and she wondered if she had not overdone her reply.
Liddicote cleared his throat. “Something you should know about how we go about education—educare—at St. Francis: we offer the study of English, both language and literature; European languages and literature; and the moral sciences, which you studied at Girton, though you would have had the benefit of a more scholarly intensity than our students, for whom the study is introductory by comparison. Yet they take it no less seriously. The concept of peace—peace among men, among nations—underpins our work here, which is why we encourage and welcome students from the Continent. There are German and Austrian students here, as well as students from France, Italy, Spain, the Netherlands, and Belgium. This blend of cultural origin is reflected in the staff as well. Do you have any objection to working with those with whom this country has been at war in the past?”
“Of course not. I would not have applied for the job if my personal sentiments had leaned towards such a position.” Maisie took a deep breath and was aware that her voice trembled a little as she began to speak. “I do not hold with the idea that we should fight each other towards an end goal of mutual destruction.”
“Go on.” Liddicote leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk in front of him. They were the hands of a boy barely out of his teens, as if Liddicote had never lifted anything more heavy than a pen. His nails were manicured and seemed unsullied, except for a smudge against the inside of the top joint of his middle finger, where the ink from his fountain pen had leaked onto his skin. Maisie often bore a stain in exactly the same place.
“And I believe,” said Maisie, “that the study of philosophy, of the meaning of life itself, helps us to consider the problems that face mankind from a new perspective—from multiple perspectives when all students engage in broad conversation based upon their study of both traditional and new works. And if we then know more about ourselves and each other—as I said in response to your earlier question, with that sense of wonder—surely we will be less inclined go to war.”
There was silence as Liddicote leaned back and regarded her. He nodded. “Come, let me show you around the college here; a short meander around the grounds. I’ll tell you more about our founding as we walk, and we’ll continue discussing your application in the gardens. I’m a great believer in walking, you know.”
Maisie stood up. As they made their way along the corridor to the doors that led into the grounds, she noticed several other candidates waiting in the room to which she had been taken when she arrived at the college, and she wondered if Liddicote had remembered that he had other people to see. She felt there were more specific and challenging questions to come as they walked through the college and around the grounds, though she was now more confident. She had felt a welter of warmth when he’d said, “I’m a great believer in walking, you know.” Though his tone and presence were quite different, it was a sentiment shared by Maurice, and there was a comfort in that.
A “short meander” around the college grounds was extended to reveal a larger property than Maisie had at first imagined, and included Greville