"Congratulations," said he.
"I meant to ask Mr. Temple if I could have a couple of reserved seat tickets for the patriotic meeting to-night," said Tom, "but I was kind of flustered and forgot about it. I could get them later, I guess, but if you have any here I'd like to get a couple now because I want to give them to some one."
"Yes, sir," said the secretary, in genial acquiescence; "just a minute."
Tom went up in the elevator holding the two tickets in his hand. If his joy was darkened by any growing shadow of apprehension, he put the unpleasant thought away from him. He was too generous to harbor it; yet a feeling of uneasiness beset him.
As he entered the office, Margaret Ellison, smiled broadly.
"You knew what it was?" he said boldly.
"Certainly I knew, and isn't it splendid!"
"I got two tickets," said Tom, "for reserved seats down front. They're in the third row. I was going to give them to Roscoe and tell him to take—to ask you to go. But he's—he's late—I guess he stopped to register. So I'll give them to you, and when he comes up you can tell him about it."
"I'll give them to him and say you asked me to."
"All right," Tom said hesitatingly; "then he'll ask you."