When Fair came up to Barbara, she was almost as glad to see him as John supposed, and brought her every wit and grace to bear for his retention, with a promptness that satisfied even her father, viewing them from a distance.
"Miss Garnet, I heard a man, just now, call this very pleasant affair a jamboree. What constitutes a jamboree?"
"Why, Mr. Fair," said Barbara, in her most captivating drawl, "that's slang!"
"Yes, I didn't doubt. I hope you're not guilty of never using slang, are you?"
"O no, sir, but I never use it where I can't wear a shawl over my head. Still, I say a great many things that are much worse than slang."
"Miss Garnet, you say things that are as good as the best slang I ever heard."
"Ah!—that's encouraging. Did you ever hear the Misses Kinsington's rule: Never let your slang show a lack of wit or poverty of words! They say it's a sure cure for the slang habit. But if you really need to know, Mr. Fair, what constitutes a jamboree, I can go and ask Uncle Leviticus for you; that is, if you'll take me to him. He's our butler to-night, and he's one of the old slave house-servants that you said you'd like to talk with."
"But I want to talk with you, just now; definitions can wait."
"O you shall; there's every facility for talking there, and it's not so crowded."