The house was quite quiet while my father was here. Seems that we have an hospitable spook who doesn't want to scare our guests.
This morning, however, as I was walking up to the third floor, I heard someone playing in Elsie's toys. For a split second, I thought I had forgotten to take her to school. Then I checked under the beds, because I'll never quite get used to this sort of thing being "normal."
edited to add:
I very distinctly just heard someone call me from downstairs. Perhaps I should answer?