She was not. Her words were light and saucy, but she was as demure and decorous a little New Englander as need be desired; and she could not help it if the hearts of the unattached young men of whom the town was full, warmed towards her.
Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one day in their first week.
"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to tea this afternoon," she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew sharply.
"At his house. He has 'a home of his own,' you know. And he particularly wants you, Mrs. Pettigrew—and Miss Elder—the girls, of course."
"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked with serene indifference, but Susie did.
"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! A man's home!—and we may never get another chance. He's such a bear!"
Dr. Hale's big house was only across the road from theirs, standing in a large lot with bushes and trees about it.
"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair told them. "That's an old inhabitant for us. He boarded in that house for a while; then it was for sale and he bought it. He built that little office of his at the corner—says he doesn't like to live where he works, or work where he lives. He took his meals over here for a while—and then set up for himself."