His countenance cleared immediately; indeed, he was angry, and despised himself that he could have been uneasy, or doubted her for a moment. He grew animated and cheerful, and asked so pleasantly who she had met there, that, excited by her success, or “escape,” as she would have called it, she mentioned the gentlemen, among whom she even boldly named Mr. Cooper, who had been Miss Pearsall’s guests. “Emma,” he said, after a moment’s pause, “perfect confidence must exist where there is perfect affection; so I will be frank with you at once. I do not like that gentleman’s manner toward you. It seems to me as if there were some secret between you;” and he fixed his searching eyes upon her with an inquiring expression. She felt now that he had seen too much to be satisfied of the contrary, even if she denied it; so she said, “Well, to be frank with you, there is something between us; but as it is not a secret of mine—I do not know that I am authorized to tell even you of it.” He looked grave, as he replied, “Certainly, if it is the secret of another, I have no right, nor wish, even, to inquire further. But I hope in future, Emma, you may have no secrets, even of others, from which I am excluded.” It was half affectionately, half gravely said; and Emma promised most fully to have no reserves from him henceforth. “Do you know,” continued he, smiling, though still not looking quite satisfied, “that I imagined it was something concerning that ring that Cooper sports?” Emma felt again that she was treading on ice, that might give way the next instant, and that denial was unsafe, so she answered boldly, “You are right again. And, upon the whole, I don’t know why I should not tell you the truth just as it is. I do not suppose Ellen will care about your knowing it, particularly as you, of course, will not repeat it. She gave him that ring, and wanted me to get it back for her.” “Why did she not ask for it herself?” he said, somewhat sternly. “She was afraid of her mother’s knowing it,” replied Emma. “You know what a prim, particular old lady Mrs. Pearsall is.” “Foolish girl,” he said, contemptuously, “and worse than foolish, to be deceiving those she should most trust.” Emma felt her heart die within her; but there was no help for her—so she agreed to all his animadversions on Miss Pearsall, and only said, “Yes, so she is; but say nothing about it. Make no allusion to her, or to any one else.” “Of course not,” he replied; and the subject dropped. To Emma’s great relief she heard, a few days afterward, that Mr. Cooper was going to Europe very soon. Expected to sail, indeed, in the course of a fortnight. “I have a little package for you,” he said; “when can I call,” he added, smiling, “when Mr. Dashwood is not at your house?”