The Ragged Edge. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. I had no curiosity of that kind. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again.
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