“Foolish or not, you must promise me,” Marjorie Moore insisted.  Then she turned earnestly to Ruth.  “I know you have a great deal of influence with your friend.  If she will not agree to what I ask her, won’t you make her promise you this:  She is not to consent to do a favor for any one this afternoon, no matter how simple the favor seems to be.  Do you understand?”

Ruth looked at Marjorie Moore blankly, but something in the newspaper girl’s earnest expression arrested her attention.

“I don’t see why you won’t make Miss Moore the promise she begs of you, Bab,” Ruth argued.  “It seems a simple thing she has asked you.  And I don’t think it is very nice of you, dear, to refuse her, even though her request does seem a little absurd to you.”

“But won’t you tell me why you ask me to be so exceedingly unaccommodating, Miss Moore?” Bab retorted.

Marjorie Moore shook her head.  “That’s just the trouble.  Again I can’t tell you why I ask this of you.  But I want to assure you of one thing.  It would mean a great deal more to me, personally, to have you agree to do the favor that may or may not be asked of you this afternoon.  I am the only outside person in Washington who knows of a certain game that is to be played.  It would mean a big scoop for my paper and a lot of money for me if I would just let things drift.  But I like you too well to hold my tongue, though I am not going to tell you anything more.  And I certainly won’t beg you to do what I ask of you.  Of course you may do just as you please.  Good-bye; I am too busy to talk any more to-day.”  Before Barbara could make up her mind what to answer, the newspaper woman hurried away.

Ruth looked decidedly worried after Marjorie Moore’s departure.  But Barbara was still incredulous and a little bored at being kept so completely in the dark.

“Look here, Bab,” Ruth advised, as the two girls walked slowly home together, “you did not promise Miss Moore to do what she asked of you.  But you must promise me.  Oh, I know it seems absurd!  And I am not exactly blaming you for refusing to make that promise to Miss Moore.  But, Bab, we cannot always judge the importance of little things.  So I, at least, shall be much happier at this particular tea if you will promise me not to do a single thing that any one asks you to do.”

Both girls laughed gayly at Ruth’s request.

“Won’t I be an agreeable guest, Ruth?” Bab mimicked.  “If any one asks me to sit down, I must say, ’No; I insist on standing up.  Because I have promised my friend Miss Stuart not to do a single thing I am requested to do all afternoon.’  I wish I did not have to go to Mrs. Wilson’s tea to-day.”

“You need not joke, Bab,” Ruth persisted.  “And you need not pretend you would have to behave so foolishly.  I only ask you to promise me what you would not agree to, when Marjorie Moore asked it of you:  ’Don’t do any favor for any one, no matter who asks it of you this afternoon!’”