I have never before been quite sure of the seriousness of Mary’s regard for Edmund but on this read I have begun to feel she very well may be disposed to accept an offer. Mary had been angry with Edmund for ‘adhering to his own notions, and acting on them [ordination] in defiance of her’ (29) but when his absence lengthened she missed him and in a fit of jealousy tells Fanny:

‘Sir Thomas Bertram’s son is somebody; and now he is in their own line. Their [the Miss Owens] father is a clergyman, and their brother is a clergyman, and they are all clergymen together. He is their lawful property; he fairly belongs to them.’ (29)

When Edmund finally returns to MP with ‘spirits ready to feed on melancholy remembrances, and tender associations’ he is surprised to receive an unquestionably friendly welcome from Mary. Fanny unhappily notes their attachment has destroyed his scruples and her hesitations and feels there is nothing to stop an engagement once Edmund follows Mary to town:

Alas! …On his side the inclination was stronger, on hers less equivocal. His objections, the scruples of his integrity, seemed all done away, nobody could tell how; and the doubts and hesitations of her ambition were equally got over—and equally without apparent reason. It could only be imputed to increasing attachment. His good and her bad feelings yielded to love, and such love must unite them. (37)

It seems Mary has decided to accept Edmund and when she closets with Fanny in the East Room for a farewell tête-à-tête instead of immediately speaking on behalf of her brother she drifts into revelry about their rehearsing Amelia and Anhalt. It starts out rather romantic, Edmund’s urging matrimony to her Amelia and then Mary is suddenly inspired into a triumph on overcoming his scruples against acting:

“The scene we were rehearsing was so very remarkable! The subject of it so very—very—what shall I say? He was to be describing and recommending matrimony to me. I think I see him now, trying to be as demure and composed as Anhalt ought, through the two long speeches. ‘When two sympathetic hearts meet in the marriage state, matrimony may be called a happy life.’ I suppose no time can ever wear out the impression I have of his looks and voice as he said those words. It was curious, very curious, that we should have such a scene to play! If I had the power of recalling any one week of my existence, it should be that week—that acting week. Say what you would, Fanny, it should be that; for I never knew such exquisite happiness in any other. His sturdy spirit to bend as it did! Oh! it was sweet beyond expression. (36)

It seems bending Edmund to her will was a sweeter pleasure than his urging matrimony. I think this is partly because Mary thinks it shows consideration for her and partly because she enjoys intrigues and manipulating people. However considering her feelings when Edmund was away and her feelings upon his return I am a little surprised. I thought maybe she had begun to value a real emotional connection over the shallow triumph of intrigues and take-ins. Fanny feels Mary displayed ‘a mind led astray and bewildered, and without any suspicion of being so; darkened, yet fancying itself light’ (36). Mary may be ready to accept Edmund but her tastes and principles have not changed which bodes ill for compatibility—however the narrator holds out some hope for Mary’s redemption:

Experience might have hoped more for any young people so circumstanced, and impartiality would not have denied to Miss Crawford’s nature that participation of the general nature of women which would lead her to adopt the opinions of the man she loved and respected as her own. (37)