"Don't mention it."
"Mr. Mole, farewell. You know I feel more like an orphan than ever now I am parting from you."
"Don't talk like that, Figgins," said Mole.
"I can't help it, indeed, I can't. Farewell, my dear friend, farewell!"
And Figgins retired to his City home, where he still lives, though he is getting very feeble.
Still, he brightens up whenever he speaks of his old friend and travelling companion, Mole.
It is hard to part with old friends, but the decrees of fate cannot be avoided, so we must conclude our story.
It will be hardly necessary, we fancy, to inform our readers that young Jack eventually married little Emily, and Harry Girdwood led Paquita to the altar.
And as weddings are very much alike, we will not describe the ceremony, but content ourselves with saying that as much happiness as this world can afford was and is theirs.