~I had to change this a lot. The preface is a lot longer then before. 'Cause I didn't like the way it sounded and looked. Enjoy, anyway.~

The hot wax dripped ever so slowly down the cream colored, white candle stick, which was making it harder to hold. The fire on the candle, flickered casting dark shadows within the hallways presence. The shadowed figures, were hustling down the creaking floor board. Chestnut floors and whispers from servants and maids made the night haunting and yet daring. Daring enough to talk about death as it lingered throughout the dark walls of the household.

The house, itself, spoke of the dying as it came closer. Closer as death came, everyone waited in silence. Except the loud ticking sound coming from the clock worried a young girl as she sat at the edge of her life. She held tightly around the handle of the burning candle waiting for the end. Waiting for the answer of her dying father.

At the age of fifty-four, Sir George Selwood was in his deathbed and any moment would be his last. He had been a great father and lived a life of prosperity. Sir Selwood was a man of many possibilities and had a heart of gold. He cared so much for his only child and would do anything for her to make her happy in life. Except the man would never see his grandkids and be a grandfather.

Through the whispering atmosphere outside the walls of the room, servants went away with their business. They cared for their master who was dying and prepared for his death. The house servants knew by morning that the elderly master would be long gone. Passed away from the world and it's discoveries.

Even though the candle's fire was trying to heat her up, she was shivering in the cold. I will not worry about me shivering, but of my deathly ill father. She wrapped the thin, tan shawl closer around her thin and fragile body. She had the opinionated mind of her mother's, but a caring heart of her father's. As time was ticking away, she waited in the only source of light coming from the candle.

The young girl, Miss Sophia Selwood was told by the aging doctor to not disturb her father until he came to get her. Several times through out the night, the doctor would come out of the room and give updates from the dying man. Why is he taking forever? I need to see my father, before he dies.

Sophia paced back and forth in the hallway, as worry swam all through her chilled bones. What will become of me, if he dies? Will I be looked down upon or worse fend for myself? Thoughts about being orphaned or living with an unknown relative scared Sophia.

Minutes passed and Sophia was becoming tired. She placed the candle on the chestnut floor board and sat down. Sophia's eyelashes were becoming heavy. She tried not to drift off to sleep. Come on, Sophia! Stay awake, for your father. The only way she thought of staying awake was pinching her arm.

“Ouch.” She squeezed her eyes shut of the pain, for a second, then looked down at her pink arm. At least it kept me awake. Then the grand clock downstairs, struck ten o'clock. Calm down, Sophia. It's only ten o'clock.

Suddenly the sound of a creaking door made Sophia jump and panic rose deep within her. Do not panic! She turned and saw the doctor come out. His graying hair and wrinkled skin showed his age.

“You may come in, Miss Sophia.” He sounded and looked exhausted from checking on her father for the past hour. Don't worry, Sophia, it can't be that bad.

As Sophia calmed herself down she followed the doctor into her father's room. The moment she stepped into the clearing, she rushed to his bedside. “Father!” He looks terrible and worn out. I have to help him.

His white hair was balding and he was tucked away underneath the thick covers. He was getting worse after his wife died sixteen years ago. He didn't even think of another wife, because he thought that would break Sophia's heart if she had a new mother.

Her father opened his tired eyes and slightly turned to face his only child. “Sophia.” His voice was ragged and so Sophia took the glass of water from the end table and tilted the glass for him to take a drink. Hopefully this works.

When he was done, she put the glass back down on the table. “Sophia, my dear.”

“Yes, father?” She spoke with awareness.

“Promise me.” He was starting to drift out and in of conscience. Please don't go, father. Not now.

“Promise what, father?” Sophia took her father's sweaty hands and held them close to her heart. Her relationship with her father was dear to her. She was always by his side when she was younger.

Her father closed his eyes for a mere second and spoke, “Promise me that you will marry one of them.”

Sophia's ocean blue eyes widened. “Who?”

“Your three suitors.” And at those last given words, Sir George Selwood gave his last breath.