“As _circumstances_, named Tom Scott and Jack Redfern, intervened, our housekeeping is at an end,” said Jane decisively. “I think I am the one to whom all apologies should be made. Of course, with you two gone, I could not bear starting the same sort of thing again with anyone else, but it has certainly been a most successful experiment. Has your dress come home yet, Marion?” “Yes; and fits very well.” “It is the prettiest dress you can imagine,” said Jane to Ada. “A grey Sicilienne skirt, with a grey glacé silk bodice, and cherry-coloured velvet at the throat and waist. A dear little cherry-coloured toque to wear with it, and a smart grey velvet cape with a delicate design in steel on it. I can’t help talking like a fashion plate when I think of it! Our dresses are sent back at last, and there is nothing that needs alteration.” Jane and Ada were to wear their new winter dresses of green cashmere and brown velvet; big brown “picture” hats with rowans under the brim. Marion’s wedding-day dawned bright and sunny. The wedding was to be at two o’clock. Jane had arranged to go over to Norfolk Square early to superintend the laying of the breakfast before the party went to church. The table was decorated with white flowers in specimen vases. Azaleas, chrysanthemums, and orange-blossoms, and sprigs of rowan-berries were laid on the pretty white satin table-centre which Ada had worked for her friend. And now they are off to church. Marion makes a charmingly pretty but very nervous bride. Everybody is bright and cheerful and there are no tears. Soon they come back and sit down to the breakfast, prepared with so much care. And now the time has come for us to bid farewell to our young housekeepers, whose plans and contrivances our readers have followed for so long. If their example will induce any to try the experiment for themselves, Mrs. Scott, Mrs. Redfern, and Miss Jane Orlingbury will feel that they have not worked in vain. [THE END.] [Illustration] LETTERS FROM A LAWYER. PART XI. The Temple. MY DEAR DOROTHY,—As you are one of the members of the committee for the bazaar in aid of the Nursing Home for Old People, I may be able to give you a few useful hints to avoid certain illegalities which beset the path of the unwary promoters of such charitable entertainments. The great feature of a big bazaar should consist in having as many side shows as possible, so that people may be able, by the expenditure of a shilling or two, to escape from the importunities of the stall-holders into a concert-room, waxwork show, or other attraction, and not be driven out of the bazaar altogether.