No living might fall in for years to come.

The cousins went on corresponding sadly and fondly: the betrothed woman, hard, jealous, and dissatisfied, complaining bitterly, and with reason, of her Francis's altered tone.
At last things came to a crisis, and the new attachment was discovered.
Francis owned it, cared not to disguise it, rebuked Martha with her violent temper and angry imperiousness, and, worst of all, with her inferiority and her age.
Her reply was, that if he did not keep his promise she would carry his letters into every court in the kingdom--letters in which his love was pledged to her ten thousand times; and, after exposing him to the world as the perjurer and traitor he was, she would kill herself.
Frank had one more interview with Helen, whose mother was dead then, and who was living companion with old Lady Pontypool,--one more interview, where it was resolved that he was to do his duty; that is, to redeem his vow; that is, to pay a debt cozened from him by a sharper; that is, to make two honest people miserable.

So the two judged their duty to be, and they parted.
The living fell in only too soon; but yet Frank Bell was quite a grey and worn-out man when he was inducted into it.

Helen wrote him a letter on his marriage, beginning "My dear Cousin," and ending "always truly yours." She sent him back the other letters, and the lock of his hair--all but a small piece.

She had it in her desk when she was talking to the Major.
Bell lived for three or four years in his living, at the end of which time, the Chaplainship of Coventry Island falling vacant, Frank applied for it privately, and having procured it, announced the appointment to his wife.