“All in good time,” Mr. Bastin said. “I am not yet finished with them. New inspiration has hit me today.”
Ottilie felt his eyes on her back and worked to quash the quivering in her stomach. Inhaling deeply, she squared her shoulders and strolled to the settee. “I hope we aren’t keeping you from your work,” she said, taking a seat opposite the two gentlemen.
“Not at all. I only wish you’d come sooner. Hudsyn never told me he had such a charming cousin. Where has he been hiding you?”
Ottilie ignored the flirtatious comment. “I live in Canterbury, but I’ll be in London for the duration of the summer holidays.”
“Summer holidays?” Mr. Bastin cocked his head. “From what?”
“From school.”
He laughed. “You look far too grown up to be a schoolgirl and not nearly dowdy enough to be a schoolmistress.”
“As a matter of fact, Iama teacher at Canterbury Ladies’ College.” She lifted her chin.
“A ladies’ college?” Mr. Bastin raised his eyebrows. “And what do you teach there? Sewing? Piano? Dance? French, perhaps?”
“Mathematics, mostly.” She suppressed a smile, secretly delighting in her ability to surprise him.
“Mathematics?” he repeated as if to confirm he’d heard her correctly.
“Our college is an academic institution that provides quality secondary education for women. We don’t teach sewing, manners, piano, or dance. But we do have an excellent science and mathematics department. In addition, we have a classics department where our young ladies learn Latin, Greek, and classical literature.”
“I’m impressed.” Mr. Bastin leaned forward as though genuinely interested. “And does this ladies’ college of yours have many students?”
“We had twenty borders and sixty-day students last year. The school has grown steadily since it opened in 1862.”
“Fascinating!”
“Why do you sound so surprised? Many women have a strong desire to learn and are interested in a host of subjects. Is it fair that only men should have the pleasure of knowledge?”
“I knew a girl once who sounded exactly like you.” Mr. Bastin smiled, but Ottilie detected a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“Did you?” She waited for him to volunteer additional information, but when none came, she broke the silence, saying, “She sounds like someone I would have loved to meet.”
“It was a long time ago.” He brushed away Ottilie’s comment but retained his wistful look.
“It might impress you even more to know that fifteen of our students took local examinations at Cambridge last year.” Ottilie steered the conversation back to the college.
“Truly?” Mr. Bastin folded his hands together. “Are women permitted to attend Cambridge nowadays?”
“Of course not!” Henry interjected.
“Unfortunately, Henry is correct,” Ottilie said. “Although, we won’t stop fighting until women are permitted to earn degrees from Cambridge, Oxford, and every other university open to men.”
“A lofty goal indeed.”
“It is, but not because women aren’t capable. We’ve already proven that when given the chance, ladies do as well as gentlemen academically.”
“How did you manage that?”
“We worked hard to convince Cambridge to allow our students and those from other ladies’ colleges to take their local examinations—and they eventually agreed.”
“Other ladies’ colleges, did you say?”
“Indeed, there are several and the number grows every year. All of which are run and funded by dedicated women.”
“And what is the point of these examinations when women cannot attend Cambridge?”
