My Dear Sophy by Kimberly Truesdale

cup down and moved to the edge of his seat. He was in a chair across from Sophy, who had seated herself on the sofa that Freddy had occupied since Wednesday.
    “ Miss Wentworth,” he began. “Sophy...” The sound of her name crossing his lips drew her attention to his face. He looked eager and anxious all at once. He tried to smile, but it came out crooked.
    “ Miss Wentworth,” he repeated. “I have something particular I would like to say to you.” Her breath caught in her lungs and so her “yes” came out almost as a gasp. Her emotion seemed to mirror his.              
    “ Miss Wentworth, I...” he paused and his features worked. “I have meant to speak to you for some time now. But what happened the other afternoon...I...” Was he going to ask her? Or was he trying to tell her he did not feel that way about her. Sophy could hardly concentrate on what he was actually saying.
    Mr. Hollingson cleared his throat, clearly nervous of what he was about to say. His speech came out in starts and stops. “... I have held you in high esteem ever since coming to this town. Right away I saw how you are a light to the people around you. And you have come to be a very dear light in my life, too.” He looked shyly at her. “But the other day...I … I... our embrace...” He was looking at her quite intently again. “When we... I want to protect you always. I want to love you.” He looked at Sophy directly, making sure she heard the significance of his words. “I do love you, Sophy.”
    Her heart had gone from not beating to running as fast as a racing horse. She could hardly breathe. Mr. Hollingson loved her. This dear, caring, quiet man who treated her brothers so well. And he loved her. Sophy waited expectantly for his next words.
    The two had been so focused on each other that they had not heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward them. So they were both startled to hear Papa's loud voice say, “Mr. Hollingson! I was not informed that you had come to call. But I am glad to see you. I have wanted to speak to you about the boys...”
    Papa settled himself into the chair next to his guest and asked Sophy to fetch another warm pot of tea. He did not seem to realize that he had interrupted the most important conversation of her life. Sophy looked desperately at Mr. Hollingson as she left, unsure what else to do, unsure how to signal to her father that she and Mr. Hollingson needed to be alone again. There seemed to be nothing for it.
     
     

Chapter VII
     
    There had been no time during the rest of his visit for a private word with Mr. Hollingson, for a time together to renew the significant conversation they had started. Her father – not realizing that his daughter's future happiness was in question – had monopolized all of his guest's attention with talk of how his sons were progressing. Mr. Hollingson had played his part valiantly, remaining attentive to her father's conversation. Papa had not suspected anything and they had passed a maddeningly normal evening.
    All the while, her mind had been racing. What had Mr. Hollingson been about to say to her? And how did she feel about it? She was almost certain he had been about to offer for her. If that was so, he would try again. What would she say to him? She hardly knew him and yet... Yet his embrace had been thrilling. Would it always be like that?
    Sophy's mind had been in such a whirl that she had not fallen asleep until the small hours of Saturday morning. She was still abed when a cry rang out from down the hall.
    “ Papa! Sophy! Come quick!”
    It took a moment for the words to penetrate her heavy sleep. Sophy had trouble telling if they were in her dream, until she heard them again.
    “ Papa! Sophy! Come quick!” Edward sounded panicked. She heard her father's footsteps running as she took up her robe and flung open her bedroom door. The uncarpeted floor was cold on her feet as she ran down the hall, but she had no thought of