Reviewing that intoxicating evening in a calmer mood, he was dissatisfied with his conduct. In vain he said to himself that he had but followed a universal custom; that all his acquaintance would have laughed in his face, had he told them of the resolution so bravely kept during six years. The remembrance of his mother's counsels came freshly to his mind; and the accusing voice of conscience said, "She was a friendless orphan, whom misfortune ought to have rendered sacred. What to you is the sanction of custom? Have you not a higher law within your own breast?" He tried to silence the monitor by saying, "When I have made a little more money, I will return to the North. I will marry Loo Loo on the way and she shall be acknowledged to the world as my wife, as she now is in my own soul." Meanwhile, the orphan lived in her father's house as her mother had lived before her. She never aided the voice of Alfred's conscience by pleading with him to make her his wife; for she was completely satisfied with her condition, and had undoubting faith that whatever he did was always the wisest and the best. [To be continued.] CHARLEY'S DEATH. The wind got up moaning, and blew to a breeze; I sat with my face closely pressed on the pane; In a minute or two it began to rain, And put out the sunset-fire in the trees. In the clouds' black faces broke out dismay That ran of a sudden up half the sky, And the team, cutting ruts in the grass, went by, Heavy and dripping with sweet wet hay. Clutching the straws out and knitting his brow, Walked Arthur beside it, unsteady of limb; I stood up in wonder, for, following him, Charley was used to be;--where was he now? "'Tis like him," I said, "to be working thus late!"-- I said it, but did not believe it was so; He could not have staid in the meadow to mow, With rain coming down at so dismal a rate. "He's bringing the cows home."--I choked at that lie: They were huddled close by in a tumult and fret, Some pawing the dry dust up out of the wet, Some looking afield with their heads lifted high. O'er the run, o'er the hilltop, and on through the gloom My vision ran quick as the lightning could dart; All at once the blood shocked and stood still in my heart;-- He was coming as never till then he had come! Borne 'twixt our four work-hands, I saw through the fall Of the rain, and the shadows so thick and so dim, They had taken their coats off and spread them on him, And that he was lying out straight,--that was all! THE CATACOMBS OF ROME. [Continued.] Custodit Dominus emnia ossa eorum. Ps. xxxiii. 20 III.