Before Manoharon took our bags and led us up the twisting staircase, Peterson determined what time we would like breakfast and that we had no food allergies.
The centerpiece of our room, No. 24, is the angular red brick chimney running up one wall. It's fitted with an electric stove that creates a cozy flame and a surprising amount of heat. A desk and leather-upholstered armchair sit on one side of the fireplace. On the other side, a deep, padded chair and ottoman invite you to stretch out with a book. Blue floral fabric coordinates with the rug and the blue and white quilt on the unusually high queen-size four-poster bed. A tall neoclassical armoire, positioned between two windows, hides the TV and VCR (tapes available at the desk). The large room also has a walk-in closet and bath with pedestal sink and combination tub-shower.
While we settled in, Manoharon delivered a welcome basket consisting of a thermal carafe of boiling hot water, two mugs, and packets of tea, coffee bags, hot chocolate, and powdered hot cider mix. Oh, yes, and two big chocolate chip cookies.
While the inn does not serve dinner, it doesn't let its guests starve, either. In the double parlor on the first floor, a table was set with a pod-style espresso maker and pots of hot water for other beverages. A glass jar full of cookies sat next to a plate of chocolates. There's even a small pantry and refrigerator on the third floor stocked with beverages and snacks for purchase on the honor system.
''We'll be putting out the wine and cheese around 4:30," Peterson told us as we set out to explore the neighborhood. The inn is just over three blocks from Yale's Old Campus, but we lingered along Chapel Street to check out the boutiques and study the menus of the ethnic eateries.
We perused the Yale Center for British Art (1080 Chapel St., free), completed in 1977, three years after architect Louis Kahn's death, and a building as much an attraction as the paintings and sculptures inside it. Kahn's deft use of smooth concrete and pale woods created a sequence of galleries where formal 17th-century portraits, George Stubbs's 18th-century animal paintings, and small bronze castings by Henry Moore are equally at home.