As they entered the main gate at the Broad Street Station, a tall, handsome man took Beth's valise from her hand and bent to kiss her. A moment later Dolly had been introduced to Beth's father. A carriage was waiting for them outside the station, and as they drove to Beth's home, Dolly scrutinized Mr. Newby's features closely, trying hard to find therein the explanation of much that had mystified her in Beth. He was evidently a man of culture and brains. Dolly could not imagine him in a temper or exhibiting any lack of self-control. Why did he and Beth not chatter more familiarly, though? He was asking questions about the college in the same fashion that he might have asked them of Dolly herself, and Beth was replying in the same formal, courteous way. Even Mr. Newby's kiss of welcome at the station had seemed a perfunctory duty-kiss, not at all like the spontaneous ones given by Dolly's father. And Beth could chatter fast enough! Why wasn't she doing it now? Though, if Dolly had only known it, both Beth and her father were making a great effort to have the conversation lively and animated. Dolly had gained no light when they reached the pleasant suburban home where the Newbys lived. On the broad veranda she could see a lovely, gracious woman and three children. They must be Roy, Hugh and Nell, she knew. The carriage drove rapidly up the lawn along the smooth driveway. Mrs. Newby hastened to meet them. She kissed Beth a little wistfully, Dolly thought, and gave Dolly herself a very cordial, hearty welcome. The children were well-mannered and decidedly attractive. Dolly fancied that Roy did not look very strong. Mrs. Newby took them upstairs presently. She had given the girls adjoining rooms, and went in with them to see that everything was in perfect readiness. The house was roomy and delightful, and Dolly drew in a deep breath of surprise and enjoyment. "How nice your home is, Beth. You funny child, never to have told me anything about it." "I'm glad you like it. How about the people in it?" "How do I like them, do you mean? Why, I have hardly seen them yet, you know, but I think that you must feel proud of your father; and Mrs. Newby has one of the sweetest faces I ever saw. The children seem very nice, and you know how I love children." "Yes, I know--well, I am glad if you like us and our home." That was all Beth said. Dolly watched quietly and shrewdly. Something was ajar, and she longed to know if it were not something that could be adjusted. Whatever it was, it was spoiling Beth's life. But she could see nothing. Beth was as reserved as ever, even in her own home. Both of her parents seemed to treat her more as a guest than as a daughter of the house. Her wishes were consulted, and she was deferred to more as a stranger would be, Dolly thought, than as a daughter whose preferences they were supposed to know.