Peter wondered if Cheriton’s latest crusade was against Hilary’s taste in art, and if so what Urquhart thought on that subject.  It was an uncomfortable thought.  He characteristically turned away from it.

“The intense blue of the sea, contrasted with the fainter blue of the Euganean Hills,” said Leslie suddenly, “is most remarkable and beautiful.  What?”

He was proud of having noticed that.  He was always proud of noticing beauty unaided.  He made his remark with the simple pleasure of a child in his own appreciation.  His glance at Peter said, “I am getting on, I think?”

The others agreed that he was correct.  He then bent his great mind to the completion of St. Mark’s, and Urquhart discovered what Peter had long known, that he could really play in earnest.  The reverse art—­handling serious issues with a light touch—­he was less good at.  Grave subjects, like the blue of the sea or the shape of a goblet, he approached with the same solidity of earnestness which he brought to bear on sand cathedrals.  It was just this that made him a little tiring.

But the three together on the sands made a happy and congruous party of absorbed children, till Cheriton the energetic came swinging back over the sand-hills.  Peter saw him approaching, watched the resolute lunge of his stride.  His mother was about to be married for the third time:  one could well believe it.

“I hope he is going to be nicer to me to-day,” Peter thought.  Even as he hoped it, and before Cheriton saw the party on the sands, Peter saw the determined face stiffen, and into the vivid eyes came the blank look of one who is cutting somebody.  Peter turned and looked behind him to see who it was, and saw Mr. Guy Vyvian approaching.  It was obvious from his checked recognition that he thought he knew Cheriton, and that Cheriton did not share the opinion.  Peter saw Vyvian’s mortified colour rise; he was a vain and sensitive person.

Cheriton came and sat down among them.  His words as he did so, audibly muttered, were, “The most unmitigated cad!” He looked angry.  Then he saw Peter, and seemed a little surprised, but did not cut him; he hardly could.  Peter supposed that he owed this only to the accident of Urquhart’s presence, since this young man seemed to go about the world ignoring everyone who did not please his fastidious fancy, and Peter could not hope that he had done that.

Peter looked after Vyvian’s retreating figure.  He could detect injured pride in his back.

He got up and brushed the sand from him.

“I must go and talk to that man,” he said.  “He’s lodging with my brother.”

The situation for a moment was slightly difficult.  Leslie and Urquhart had both heard Cheriton’s description of Peter’s brother’s lodger.  Besides, they had seen him, and that was enough.

It was unlike Peter to make awkward situations.  He ended this one abruptly by leaving it to itself, and walking away after his brother’s lodger.