“Don’t try your patronizing faculty airs on me,” Madeline warned her. “I may say in passing that in my humble opinion no faculty should be caught belonging to a nice frivolous affair like the ‘Merry Hearts.’ A kindly desire not to exclude our faculty friends of 19— from our councils was of course my chief object in promoting the more dignified cult of the B. C. A.’s.”
“B. C. A.—Betty Can’t Argue.” Mary, who had been lost in thought, burst out with her solution. “She can’t, you know. She always smiles and says, ‘I don’t know why I think so, but I do.’”
“Beans Cooked Admirably,” suggested Emily. “Then the obvious entertainment would be Saturday suppers à la Boston.”
“Butter Costs Awfully,” amended Christy. “Then the obvious procedure would be to open a savings account.”
“Better Come Again,” was Rachel’s contribution. “That sounds nice and sociable and Madelineish.”
“Thanks for the compliment. You’re getting the least little speck of a bit warm,” Madeline told her encouragingly.
“Brilliant Collegians’ Association,” interposed Betty eagerly. “That must be right, because you’re all brilliant but me, and I’m the exception that proves it. Have I guessed, Madeline?”
Madeline shook her head. “Certainly not. Brilliance should be seen, not heard, Betty, my child. Besides, according to my well-known theory of names, a good one should bring out subtle, unsuspected qualities. That’s why editors get so excited, and even annoyed, about the titles of my stories; they aren’t generally subtle enough themselves to get my subtle points.”
“Well, I may say that I sympathize with the editors,” declared Mary feelingly. “Hurry and give a guess, Helen Chase, and then maybe she’ll tell us.”
“Bromides Can’t Attend,” said Helen timidly. “I suppose that’s wrong too.”