The next moment her eyes filled with tears.
In spite of her resistance, Alban took her hand.

"Dear Miss Emily," he said, "you distress me: you have not done me justice.

Your interests only are in my mind." Answering her in those terms, he had not spoken as frankly as usual.

He had only told her a part of the truth.
Hearing that the woman whom they had just left had been landlady of an inn, and that a murder had been committed under her roof, he was led to ask himself if any explanation might be found, in these circumstances, of the otherwise incomprehensible effect produced on Mrs.Rook by the inscription on the locket.
In the pursuit of this inquiry there had arisen in his mind a monstrous suspicion, which pointed to Mrs.Rook.It impelled him to ascertain the date at which the murder had been committed, and (if the discovery encouraged further investigation) to find out next the manner in which Mr.Brown had died.
Thus far, what progress had he made?
He had discovered that the date of Mr.Brown's death, inscribed on the locket, and the date of the crime committed at the inn, approached each other nearly enough to justify further investigation.
In the meantime, had he succeeded in keeping his object concealed from Emily?
He had perfectly succeeded.

Hearing him declare that her interests only had occupied his mind, the poor girl innocently entreated him to forgive her little outbreak of temper.