“Wildly,” Madeline assured her.
“And also senseless, I should say,” added Mary. “What in the world are Bromides?”
“People who ask foolish questions,” explained Christy, “like that one you’ve just propounded. The others are Sulphites. Get the book from Helen, who had it presented to her to read on the train, and then you’ll know all about it. Now, Madeline, tell us quick.”
Madeline shrugged her shoulders and stirred her tea with a provoking air of leisureliness. “It’s nothing to get excited about. Really, after all your ingenious guesses, the humble reality sounds very tame and obvious. We are the B. C. A.’s—the Back-to-the-College Again’s. It sounds simple, but like all my titles it involves deep subtleties. Why are we, of all the 19—’s who would give their best hats to be here, ‘elected’ to honor Harding with our presence? What have we in common? The answer is of course the sign of the cult and the mark of eligibility. It’s rather late to-day, so probably we’d better postpone the discussion until the next weekly tea-drinking.”
“Oh, do we have weekly tea-drinkings?” asked Christy. “Goodie! now tell our fortunes, Madeline.”
“Yes, that’s a lot more fun than a silly old discussion,” said Betty, holding out her cup.
“Wait a minute, Betty,” interrupted the methodical Rachel. “She hasn’t told us the object of the cult yet.”
Madeline swept the circle with a despairing glance. “As if perfectly good tea and talking about that ever-interesting subject, Ourselves, wasn’t ‘object’ enough for anybody. But you can have an ‘object’ if you like. I don’t mind, only you know I always did refuse to get excited over objects and causes and all that sort of thing.” Madeline reached for Betty’s cup, and promptly discovered a tall, fair-haired “suitor” in the bottom of it. “He has an object,” she declared. “Can you guess what it is? It’s Betty Wales.”
“Well, I’m sure Betty’s a worthy object for any suitor or any cult,” Rachel declared. “If you don’t believe it, watch her blush.”
“I’m not blushing,” Betty defended herself vigorously. “I’m only thinking—thinking how nice it would be if the B.C.A.’s would take me for an object. I shall need lots of help and advice, and maybe other things, and I shall make you give them to me anyway, so you’d better elect me to be your object, and then you won’t mind so much.”