She pointed to the window. “Don't you see it, my dear? It's like the figure of a woman. The people have left the house because it is haunted.” “Rubbish!” I answered. “I can’t see anyone.” “Well,” she repeated, “it looks to me like a woman.” I saw nothing, and said so. The next afternoon I was sitting by myself in the garden, looking up at the bow window, when to my amazement a shadowy figure as of a woman appeared on the pane. I was terrified and went indoors, but I would not say a word to anyone for fear of being laughed at. For the next six weeks I saw that figure constantly and always in the broad daylight, at 8:30 a.m., when I started for college, at one or four, or any time in the full light of day. The house was empty; I found that out. I hated the shadowy thing, but there it was. After about six weeks had passed it disappeared, and I have not seen it from that day to this. So far as I know, there is no mystery connected with the house, which is quite a modern one in a very unromantic situation. I can only say that to the best of my knowledge this is the truth, and I should be only too glad to understand what the apparition was. WHAT WAS IT? MY house is in a quiet corner of a quiet square. We are sheltered from wind and noise, even when it is stormy. About three years ago I was living here quite alone and, while undressing, about eleven o'clock one night, when there was not a breath of wind or a sound to be heard, I suddenly heard a noise in the hall below, like air moving swiftly round and round with a swishing noise, as when something is swung from the end of a string. Then it began to move and come up the stairs. I was very frightened and said to myself—although I knew it wasn't—“This is wind; it will pass out at the landing window.” But it didn’t; it turned the corners—two corners, in fact—and came straight along the corridor and shook the handle of my bedroom door strongly. Then all was quiet as before. I should very much like to know just what it was. SOMEBODY WAS BITING HER EARS