She summoned courage to question Mary Jane a little, but found her exceedingly ignorant on the great topic that absorbed her.
"I believe girls do color photographs in some places, but then you'd have to know a good deal to get a situation like that. I guess only rich girls have a chance to learn drawing and painting."
"But when it comes natural," said Charlie slowly.
"Well, I'll ask him;" and Mary Jane smiled, and nodded her head. "He knows most every thing."
"Are you going to marry him?" Charlie asked innocently, understanding the pronoun.
"Oh, I don't know!" with a toss of the head. "I mean to have some fun first. Some girls have lots of beaux."
Charlie colored. She had not the judgment or the experience to assist her in any sort of analysis; but she felt that these Wilcoxes were very different from their household. They had always been poor, lived in an old tumble-down cottage, with a bed in the parlor; were a noisy, frolicksome, romping set; given to slang, Flossy's great abhorrence; and yet—there was a clean, pure element in them all,—a kind of unconscious refinement. Florence's fine-ladyisms had not been entirely useless or wasted.
Refinement was the idea floating so dimly through Charlie's brain. In after years she understood the force of Hal's example, and the many traits Joe had laughed at as being girlish. But now she could only feel that there was a great gulf between her and Mary Jane; that the latter could not enter into her hopes and ambitions.
However, Charlie's drawings were brought to Mr. Brown for inspection.
"Why, you're a regular genius!" he exclaimed in surprise.