Capella, miserable and disillusioned, buried alive in a country place--for such must existence in Beechcroft mean to a man of his inclinations--had discovered a startling contrast between his passionate and moody spouse, and the bright, pleasant-mannered girl whose ill-fortune it was to create discord between the inmates of the Hall.
This theory did not wholly exonerate the Italian, but it explained a good deal.

The barrister saw no cause as yet to suspect Capella of the young baronet's murder.

Were he guilty of that ghastly crime, his motive must have been to secure for himself the position he was now deliberately imperilling--all for a girl's pretty face.
The explanation would not suffice.

Brett had seen much that is hidden from public ken in the vagaries of criminals, but he had never yet met a man wholly bad, and at the same time in full possession of his senses.
To adopt the hasty judgment arrived at by Hume and Mrs.Eastham, Capella must be deemed capable of murdering his wife's brother, of bringing about the death of his wife after securing the reversion of her vast property to himself, and of falling in love with Helen--all in the same breath.

This species of criminality was only met with in lunatics, and Capella impressed the barrister as an emotional personage, capable of supreme good as of supreme evil, but quite sane.
The question to be solved was this: Why did Capella and his wife quarrel in the first instance?
Perhaps, that way, light might come.
He asked a footman if Mrs.Capella would receive him.