"Go on, Guildea," he said, "you haven't finished." "No. I felt that night positive that somebody had entered the house, and remained in it, and my conviction grew. I went to bed as usual, and, contrary to my expectation, slept as well as I generally do. Yet directly I woke up yesterday morning I knew that my household had been increased by one." "May I interrupt you for one moment? How did you know it?" "By my mental sensation. I can only say that I was perfectly conscious of a new presence within my house, close to me." "How very strange," said the Father. "And you feel absolutely certain that you are not over-worked? Your brain does not feel tired? Your head is quite clear?" "Quite. I was never better. When I came down to breakfast that morning I looked sharply into Pitting's face. He was as coldly placid and inexpressive as usual. It was evident to me that his mind was in no way distressed. After breakfast I sat down to work, all the time ceaselessly conscious of the fact of this intruder upon my privacy. Nevertheless, I laboured for several hours, waiting for any development that might occur to clear away the mysterious obscurity of this event. I lunched. About half-past two I was obliged to go out to attend a lecture. I therefore, took my coat and hat, opened my door, and stepped on to the pavement. I was instantly aware that I was no longer intruded upon, and this although I was now in the street, surrounded by people. Consequently, I felt certain that the thing in my house must be thinking of me, perhaps even spying upon me." "Wait a moment," interrupted the Father. "What was your sensation? Was it one of fear?" "Oh, dear no. I was entirely puzzled,--as I am now--and keenly interested, but not in any way alarmed. I delivered my lecture with my usual ease and returned home in the evening. On entering the house again I was perfectly conscious that the intruder was still there. Last night I dined alone and spent the hours after dinner in reading a scientific work in which I was deeply interested. While I read, however, I never for one moment lost the knowledge that some mind--very attentive to me--was within hail of mine. I will say more than this--the sensation constantly increased, and, by the time I got up to go to bed, I had come to a very strange conclusion." "What? What was it?" "That whoever--or whatever--had entered my house during my short absence in the Park was more than interested in me." "More than interested in you?" "Was fond, or was becoming fond, of me." "Oh!" exclaimed the Father. "Now I understand why you asked me just now whether I thought there was anything about you that might draw a human being or an animal irresistibly to you." "Precisely. Since I came to this conclusion, Murchison, I will confess that my feeling of strong curiosity has become tinged with another feeling." "Of fear?" "No, of dislike, of irritation. No--not fear, not fear."