Portrait of a Lady

It was improper to tell, but Jane had been ever so kind to her. 'Yes,' she admitted at length, her words punctuated by a searing guilt. 'The only thing I want in life is to marry Mr. Rosier. But papa doesn't approve...Mr. Rosier has too little money for his liking.' For a moment she contemplated in silence, and when she spoke next her voice caught in inaudible gasps, as if she had spent many hours kneading it to smallness in her mind. 'We shall never be together, for I never disobey Papa.'
Jane glanced at the floor; regret flitted across her face like a fleeting moth. She nodded sympathetically. 'Yeah....Dad and Marianne didn't approve of Chris,' indicating the photograph, 'He moved to Queensland six months ago anyway, so it makes little difference. Rarely hear from him these days.' She hesitated in the doorway, hand on the knob. 'Try not to think about it too much. It gets easier with time.'
Pansy nodded, having since recomposed herself. Mrs. Osmond had advised her wisely. She owed Papa all the pleasure she had in her power to give...how light her own petty wants and needs were when weighed against his!
'Sleep well now - holler if you need me or Marianne.' With this, Jane switched off the light and closed the door after her, plunging the room in a cosy darkness.
'Holler?' Pansy wondered vaguely. But, too exhausted to fathom the word's meaning, she merely closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.
Too chatty, should have cut back on 'girly' talk at beginning but works well at the end where it attempts to show how women's status has changed.
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