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Then he and Leslie visited Signor Sardi's shop and looked at osele and sixteenth-century visiting cards. Peter said he knew nothing about either personally, but quoted Hilary in the Gem, to Leslie's satisfaction. "Your brother's a good man," said Leslie. "Knows what's what, doesn't he?
A light was shed on Signor Leroni, who was, said the Gem, a good dealer in plaques, and who was, Peter had thought, a bare-faced purveyor of shams. Peter began to question the quality of the osele, that Leslie had purchased from Signor Sardi. How curious it was; and rather tragic, too. For Hilary, like Lord Evelyn, had known once.
"So I am gathering," Peter said. "I'm reading about osele, marked with the Mocenigo rose. Signor Antonio Sardi seems to be a man worth a visit. I must take Leslie there. That's just the sort of thing he likes. And sixteenth-century visiting cards. Yes, he'd like those too. By all means we'll go to your friend Sardi. You wrote this, I suppose?" Hilary nodded.
Hilary, who was looking worried, said, "Lord Evelyn wants us to dine with him to-night," and passed Peter a note in delicate, shaky handwriting. "Good," said Peter. Hilary wore a bored look and said, "I suppose we must go," and then proceeded to question Peter concerning Leslie's shopping adventures. He seemed on the whole more interested in the purchase of osele than of the Berovieri goblet.
If he says these are good osele, we may take it that they are good osele, though we don't know one osele from another. That's right, isn't it?" Peter said he supposed it was, if one wanted osele at all, which personally he didn't care about; but one never knew, of course, what might come in useful.
He was reading an article called "Osele." Hilary glanced at it, with the slight nervous frown frequent with him. "What have you got hold of?... Oh, that." His frown seemed to relax a little. "I really don't recommend the thing for your entertainment, Peter. It'll bore you. I have to provide two things food for the interested visitor, and guidance for Lord Evelyn's mania for purchasing."
Peggy's grey, Irish eyes were at the moment a little speculative, touched with a dispassionate curiosity and a good deal of sisterly and wifely and maternal and slightly compassionate affection. She was so fond of them all, the dear babes. Peter had gone on from osele to ivory plaques.
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